You're not playing fair

"Six-thirty and I've not broken a sweat. Where's all the action??" Job looks at his line mate.

"Check this out!" Cless flexes his bicep in front. The lateral head looking a bit plumper than usual.

"That's nothing. " Job kicked out his calves. Somewhat veiny.

"Eww...."

Then they start rolling in. The scan line droning of an Epson printer breaks the jocular atmosphere on set.


"Fire one squash, one cuzzinetti, one fromage, one truffle tag......." Montes shouts pertly down the line.

"Click, clack, click clack"

"Oder one turbot, one mussel, one duck" Keeping up.

"Click, clack, click, clack"

"Fire one tomato, fire a dozen oysters, fire one more tag....." Easy.

"Fire one neck, one trotter, one carpaccio."

"order a hali, order greco, no garlic,  order eggplant, no salt." No garlic? Okay.

The boys spin into action, muscle memory taking over. Sometimes memory is a mystery. Keep up!

Job starts the side of turbot in it's pan with some clarified butter. The toasty aroma offset by a pan full of egg noodles and truffle juice coming to a simmer.

"ive seen three-fifty-sevens, I've seen forty-fives on military special, I've seen twenty-two-zip guns, it's about things you think you'd never see on the streets..." Job snickered to the range.


No longer are they the victims of a self denying complex that is the result of inexperience. There is no chatter in the skull over whether or not the volume will over take the chef. When you know these processes back, forth, and in your bones, it's a simple motion of the arms, hands, and legs. We're at the point of fluidity, what your afternoon talk-show guru's call a 'flow state'. The incessant breathing becomes smooth, the torrent is apparent.


Cless rolling a crispy pigs foot onto some paper for seasoning and onto a pan with a puree of green plum, and some smokey peanut brittles. He hides a few balls of cabbage that envelop a creamy rice porridge inside.

"Trevor, are you set on the carpaccio?" Tracy echoes nearby

"oui, it's all up" Tracy flips the salmon neck onto it's skin and glazes with maple, some dried thyme, an punctuates it with the just-clipped-vines of a pea plant, still wet with dew somehow.  It's all these parts that make this canvas an art.

A quick orchestration is complete by a sub-communication of silhouette.

And that's dinner. Just a few more hours to go.

Try doing it for four years?

Can I see with 2nd sight? Can i really shine the light on? In my dreams it turns out right.

the chips are in .

Cless looks at his hand, its loaded but as the night wears on it, we can see its becoming less and less hot.

What thrills him is the numbers, the money on the table, and the possibilities.

What could go wrong? No one to disapoint yet, try keeping a healthy outlook. And we've got to take some risk every year.


The phone call would come in. And we're going to see a change in lifestyles soon.