Welcome to the first installment of "Tales from the Fish House". Once a week I will share a story from my many years in the restaurant business, along with one of my own recipes. These tales, for the most part won't be clean. There are some sick people in the food service industry....Myself included. If you don't know what I'm talking about, see the movie "Waiting...." It's hilarious, and yes, some of us are that f**ked up. These events are true...The names of the not so innocent have been changed.For the first tale, I'm gonna go way back. I was 19 years old. I had jobs in kitchens since I was 13, but now I was in the big leagues...Summer, fine dinning seafood restaurant, run by a group of managers who couldn't stay sober for four hours....And when it came to perverts, these sick f**ks were the kings.
Back then we got our grated parm delivered in cartons, like milk cartons, but bigger. When they were empty, we washed them out and kept chicken scraps in them for when we made stock. We had found a couple with holes in them, and wonder what the hell is that about. Most of the time those got thrown away, but I can't be sure they did all the time.
So one afternoon, my boss Bill(a short, angry, drunk bastard), and I were shootin' the sh!t heading into the walk in cooler. He was going to get some fish to cut, and I needed to restock a few things on the line. We open the door and walk in....and there it is....One of the sickest things I've ever seen....This stoner, prep cook, named Ken, is cramming his ram rod into a carton of chicken scraps. I am not sh!tting you.
My boss's face was the reddest red you have ever seen. I thought his head was going to explode. Ken the prep cook, had that Oh Sh!t look on his face. You know that look....the look that only a stoner who is balls deep in a box of chicken scrap can have.
Bill starts screaming, "get the f*ck out of my restaurant before I f**king kill you! You f**king a$$h*le...What the F88k is wrong with you? Get the f**k out!"
There's nothing like seeing a stoner trying to figure out if he should pull his c**k out of the chicken before he runs, or if he should try and run with the box of chicken on his junk. It was hilarious...gross, but hilarious.
Maybe I'm just twisted....Okay I am. That was when I knew I was in the big leagues. I hope that doesn't ruin your Thanksgiving dinner.
Now, how about a recipe.
This time of year, we always need snacks, here is a salsa I make that my wife and a bunch of her friends like.
STRAWBERRY MANGO SALSA
2 Mangoes...peeled and diced
2 pints of strawberries diced
1 green pepper diced
half of a red onion diced
1 T of sugar
1 T of chives
1 t of minced garlic
1 T fresh chopped basil
couple dashes of hot sauce (the amount of heat is up to you)
salt & pepper to taste
Size of the dice is up to you...however chunky you like it.
Mix and serve....I like to serve it with Pita chips, but any chip will do.
I hope you enjoyed my tale, and I hope you try the recipe. Don't be afraid to come back next week for seconds.
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Thanks for reading, The BEEZE.
Alright it's that time again...Time to sit down with my Notre Dame hangover, and make my NFL picks. No science, no stats, just a blurry eyed dude giving his gut predictions. My gut wasn't that great last week. So here we go.
