Page 9 of Starfish and Coffee
“I think he did it for my benefit, not yours,” Matt offered as he followed Alex into the back of the restaurant. “He’s screwing with me.”
“You better watch it, boy,” Frank growled at him. “Or I’ll make sure you’re outta a job before you get started.”
“And rob yourself of the entertainment value y’all think seeing me try to do this job is gonna cause?” Matt snorted in disbelief. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I got job security until you’ve gotten your fill.”
“I don’t like your attitude.”
Matt stared at the burly gray-haired man with annoyed disinterest. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“This was definitely worth coming in early for,” Alex announced as he tossed his helmet up on a shelf by the back door. “My brother doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“You’re training him, smart-ass,” Frank countered, his eyes still narrowed at Matt. “It won’t be so entertaining when the first rush hits.”
“Yeah, I noticed you started him on Saturday. Nice of you,” Alex said drily as he walked down the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen. “Come on, Tarrington.”
* * * *
“What do you know how to do?” Alex asked as he started flipping on the various ovens, fryers, flattops, and hoods over the stove. “Do you have any skills that’ll be of value to me for the Saturday rush? We usually have tworealcooks on the weekends. Unfortunately, this little joke Frank is playing now involves me, and unlike you, I need this job. I can’t tell him off for it.”
“That guy is a total prick,” Matt said with a frown. “You need a better job than this.”
“You let me know when another line cook position opens up, and I’ll be sure to apply for it,” Alex said while walking to the refrigerator.
“What about all the restaurants on Bay Boulevard?”
“You need real culinary training for that.” Alex placed a large box of eggs on the deck. “Which I don’t got.”
“Why not try college?”
“I can’t afford school, and even if I could—no thanks. I’ve watched my brother stress over that shit for seven years.”
“So you’re just gonna do this”—Matt looked around the kitchen uncomfortably—“for the rest of your life?”
“The world needs line cooks too,” Alex said without an ounce of shame. “You never told me what good you are to me.”
Matt watched Alex work on gathering the rest of his supplies, walking over to the industrial-sized refrigerator and coming back with stacks of silver trays covered in cellophane.
When Alex gave him a look, making it obvious he was still waiting for an answer, Matt shrugged. “I work good under pressure. I take direction well.”
“Cooking skills?” Alex asked, sounding doubtful. “Is thereanythingyou know how to do in a kitchen?”
“No.” Matt winced. “But I’m a fast learner.”
“Great.” Alex sighed. “Frankwasfucking with you by hiring you. You’re about to be the story he tells every employee at the Christmas party.”
“I can do this,” Matt said confidently. “You show me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
“Okay, then, if you’re interested in actually learning this shit job, I’ll help you.” Alex sounded oddly determined as he worked at washing his hands. “We just need a game plan. First we’ll worry about prep, and then we’ll deal with breakfast. No sense in stressing about shit that hasn’t happened yet.”
Matt nodded and pushed the sleeves of his T-shirt higher up on his biceps. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“I’m gonna have you cutting all the tomatoes, peppers, and onions for the omelets. Even if you fuck it up, no one will really notice.” Alex grabbed a tomato out of a box in the corner and brought it to a cutting board on the counter. He reached for a knife hanging on a magnetized rack on the wall that sported all shapes and sizes of cut ware. “We’re dicing. Watch how I do it.”
Alex diced a tomato, then an onion and a pepper. He gave valuable suggestions. Keep your fingers tucked in. Cut away from your body. Make sure your knife is sharp. Don’t slice your finger off.
While Matt’s knife didn’t fly through the produce like Alex’s did, he thought he was picking it up fast once he got started. Alex assured him he was going slow as balls, but he didn’t seem annoyed by it. He’d just look over at the small, colorful stacks and then work quicker at whatever he was doing.
While Matt labored on his project, Alex had started cooking a huge stack of home fries on the flattop, had biscuits in one oven, and large sheets of bacon in the other. All the while he worked on setting up the kitchen. Some metal containers went in warmers, others went in a portable cooler station. Frank’s went through a shitload of cellophane because all the leftover food was covered from the night before and reused. Matt might have been nervous about it if he didn’t see Alex inspect all of it and toss whatever he felt was bad.
