the line pt 1

Welcome to 'Line Dogs,' stories of a line cook's life on and off of the grille.  First of all- I work at a big corp chain- one that will remain nameless.  We'll do a couple of blogs to familiarize ourselves with me (Fat Mike) and the restaurant.

Let's go through the stations on the grille to familiarize ourselves with the line (we'll go from least important to most important)....

1) Pantry - Salads and desserts, this is the only station where saying 'I got my ass kicked today' might actually get your ass kicked.

2) Pizza- This is is Apps and pizza station- and the pizza guy is usually a girl or a guy being tested for toughness to move to another station.  (That's not sexism from me- I call it like I see it)

3) Fry- Fry sucks.  You have to filter the fryer grease very single night, and it has the most prep work of any station.  On a Friday you have 4 hours worth of prep and 2 hours to do it in.  Come in at 9, get slammed by 11.  Finish your prep after your shift.  The only plus of this filthy position is you end up getting more hours than most other stations if you milk it right.

2) Saute- Anything with pasta, and some other things like enchiladas and lobster tacos.  Saute is a solitary station not for the weak at heart.  Trying to time dishes to come out perfectly with broils erratic mess is sometimes very hard, and on the weekends you can expect a real ass raping.

1.5) Broiler- This is where the meats get cooked- this is the hardest job on the line.  Learning the tricks can be difficult, but once you've got it- you've got it.  I can look at a hamburger and tell you how it is cooked without seeing inside.  Medium well has a slightly bloody oil layer on top- I don't even need to touch them to know.  On Saturday when you've got 30 calls in the last 5 minutes, it's nice for everyone that the person working this station isn't a fuck up.  Any other station can handle a fucking douchebag worker- but not this one.  He/she sets the pace for the shift.

1) The Wheel- The wheel is named after a printer that sits directly in front of your face.  The printer wheels out tickets from hell, sometimes nonstop.  No one needs a break more than the fucking wheel printer.  A ticket prints and you say- 'walking in....' following by whatever the ticket says.  So 'walking in, two burgers - medium and medium well.'  If you don't say walking in- no one can hear you, and nothing will be done.