It must be happy hour, I’m alone behind the bar and a long order comes in.
“21 Gin Fizz Tropicals for the Lounge?”
“Everyone in that group wants the same cocktail?”
The server assures me this is the case.
“Well, that will be a while, Egg White drinks and all. I can only make 4 at a time.”
I set about making them…
Someone seems to have swapped out my measuring jiggers for others I don’t recognize.
Ack! I fumble around, trying to make sense out of the equipment.
Suddenly, for some reason, I’m also having a hard time remembering the recipe… Is it apricot liqeuer? How much Gin?
I awake with a start and quickly run through the Gin Fizz Tropical in my head, 2oz Plymouth Gin, 1oz Lime, 1/2 oz Orgeat, 1/2 oz Pineapple Gum, 1/2 oz Egg White. Dry shake, shake with ice. Soda.
Somehow I am working as a line cook during brunch at the Slanted Door.
The printer start chattering away and foot upon foot of tickets starts rolling in: large parties of people, huge numbers of entrees, items that are unfamiliar.
I ask my coworkers about the bizarre items on the tickets and they don’t really know.
Erik Adkins appears from somewhere and tells me, don’t pay any attention to the food, you just have to pick out the drinks.
I try to sort through the feet of orders, looking for drinks, but still, the items are unfamiliar.
“Where’s the Whey for this drink?” I ask, “I can’t find it in the reach in.”
He says, “Who ordered that drink? It’s been 86’d.”
Funny. It has been over 15 years since I worked as a brunch line cook, yet it is still the touchstone for my unconscious mind to express fear and anxiety.