Free Have Blade Will Travel: The adventures of a traveling chef by David Paul Larousse Page A

don’t have a clue what in the heck I imagined I was throwing towards, but it hit double-paned glass window on the far wall of the kitchen.  Needless to say, it was hurtling so fast, that its impact cut a hole not just through both panels, but both double panels, since the window was open.  The lemon struck just about dead center, and hurtled so fast, that it left a perfect outline of that lemon.  It reminded me of a scene from a Tom-and-Jerry cartoon, in which frightened Tom the Cat runs through a wall, leaving an opening in the wall in the exact outline of his fleeing body. 
    Malcolm was laughing, mouth covered, as he stood cowered in a corner.  I was in a similar state, but the chef, and the rest of the crew, did not find it amusing.  Two kids goofing off in the back of the kitchen, and look at what we did.  Manager Ricci wasn’t too far away, and hearing a ruckus, marched into the area  “What happened?!”  I could see he wasn’t pleased.  Just the kind of thing he could use to jump on my case.  “Um, I was sweeping up by that sink Fran, and slipped.  The broom handle hit the window and broke it.  Look, it’s broken.”  He was not amused either. 
    “I can see it is broken,” he said tersely.  “I just don’t understand how you managed to do it with the end of a broom handle?” 
    “I don’t know,” I stammered.  “It just happened.”  I prayed he would leave it at that.  He looked at the damage more closely, then looked at me, and said, “Well, in the future, be more careful.” 
    “Sure,” I said.  “I guess this floor can really get dangerous sometimes.”  Ricci left the kitchen, but by the way he looked at me as he walked out, I knew he didn’t believe me.  Mal and I cleaned up the mess and went back to work.
    The next day, early in the afternoon, Ricci was in the kitchen chatting with the chef.  At one point, he turned towards the back kitchen where I was working, and asked, “Hey Larousse.  How did you really break that window yesterday?”  Without hesitation, I replied, “Malcolm and I were horsing around back here, and I hurled a lemon through it.” 
    “It’s a good thing you told me that pal,” he responded.  “If you hadn’t, you’d be out of a job at this very moment.  And I don’t want any more horsing around in this kitchen.  Understand?!” 
    “Yes sir.”  He left the kitchen.  I had done just the right thing at that moment, which was easy – I had no reason to hide anything at that point.  After a long, hard, emotionally-and-physically-grueling summer, we were entitled to blow off a little steam.  Life is short.  Days in the kitchen are long.  I felt I had earned the right to get a little crazy after all these hours.
    At 6:00 PM the restaurant opened for business, and orders began to trickle in.  Chef Dave Jacobs, Sous-chef Billy Byrd, and first-cook Paul took their places on the main line.  Paul operated two four-rack convection ovens on one end, where all of the baked items originated, including Baked Stuffed Scrod, Baked Stuffed Shrimp, Baked Cape Cod Scallops, and a Fish of the Day.  Billy Byrd was at the far end of the line operating the broiler station, which produced steaks, chops, brochettes, and grilled fish.  The middle station was occupied by the chef, charged with slicing the Roast Prime Rib of Beef au jus, deep-frying breaded shrimp, scallops, and veal – mock veal, that is – as well as dishing up vegetables, rice, steamed clams, and so on.  The duties of the various stations were not cast in stone, but allowed considerable overlap.  If one station-master was occupied with one task, another might step in to work on another of his orders. 
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Baked Stuffed Scrod   (Serves 4)
For the stuffing (Use for all three fish dishes)
1 cup (240 mL) Panko bread crumbs
½ cup (60 mL) melted butter
¼ cup (60 mL) chopped parsley
1 cup (240 mL) premium crab meat
1 teaspoon (5 mL) “Old Bay” seafood