Restaurant Line Dog Valuation:A Czars Menu

How to ascertain restaurant persons worth….. When dealing with cooks… they fall into no less than 30 categories.

1- Alcoholics

2- Functional alcoholics

3- Illegal aliens

4- High school kid- first job

5-Trained illegal aliens

6 Experienced wait staff trying the kitchen

7- Functional alcoholics with FOH experience.

8- Untrained high school kids

9- Busboy promoted to salad station

10-Experianced line Cook with no references

11- Dishwashers being promoted to salad station

12- Experienced High school kid that is flirting with making this business his life

13-Trained and experienced functional alcoholics

14- Trained and experienced line cooks with at least 2 years fast-food experience.

15- Trained and experienced line cook with full service experience.

16- Trained and experienced functional alcoholics that have run a kitchen

17- High volume line dawg with 1 out of two references.

18- High volume line dawg with 2 out of three references.

19- Certified functional alcoholics that have washed dished, prepped, and have at least one good reference.

20- Certified functional alcoholics that have washed dishes, prepped, and have at least two good references.

21- Lifer (has done everything for at least 5 years, uncertified)

22- Lifer (has done everything for at least 10 years, uncertified)

23- Certified Chef with no history

24- Certified Chef with history

25- Certified chef with good history

26- Certified Chef with Name recognition.

27- Former owner of their own restaurant with knowledge of everything pertaining to the culinary world.

28- Former owner of their own restaurant with knowledge of price points, inventory control, and a sparkling personality..

29- 23 yr old female functioning alcoholic, first time waitress with good taste and has sex with you.

30- Serious cook that cares about everything and knows that manning the grill = sex.

30+= Yourself.

Atlanta Cuisine

Well...looks like I've been BANNED from posting at Atlanta Cuisine all of a sudden. IT was fun and my favorite place on the web...but Alas,all good things must be ruined eventually.The thing that has me Flummoxed about all of this is, the AC site is such a quality place to be and must be for a reason and that Apparently I am a Horrible Person and at some point along the way, stepped out of line. If anyone so chooses to visit 'AtlantaCuisine' I highly recomend it if you are a foodie worth your salt...

HOLYHELL >>>>I Think Im Crazy

-----------------------(WARNING) ----- If you are a Line Dog or even a Former Line Dog, do not be too open about the feelings we have about those prissy little dandies on 'the Floor'.
Just remain civil...breathe...drink a beer but not TOO much beer... Search the forum board for any food topic you could consieve of, any technique and any ingrediant. I GuarAnteee you will find it thar...Also, They have my first ever Guerilla Chef diaries...If anyone that reads this is from the AC, let me just say I am missing you and will miss you all.
Oh..heres a picture of dirt dumb Chinese people prepping of a heaping helping of Dog meat.




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Hello, My name is Lamar,How may I help you?

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.............................................. ... ........... C'mon Ya'll, he Said he was Sorry...

Verry Happy Pizza

There we were, on our way back towards Ho Chi Mihn city after having been riding through Laos and Cambodia for the last 3 days we stopped at a Pizza parlor ,of all surprises... near the border.

It was '95 or '96.. the Khmer Rouge still had some zany pockets of rat bastids along this road so we were wearing our helmets. I waved my ‘crew' over to this Pizza shack and we all walked in together, to be met by a very amicable fellow that apparently had read us correctly as he first saw us entering his fine establishment and began chiming a practiced phrase of 'Welcome, You Try Very Happy Pizza! You Like the good gravy!”






The name of the place was ‘Happy Pizza’ so it made sense that the man would be pushing the namesake of his location… but he was offering me and my American/Australian contingent a ‘Very Happy Pizza’. How could we resist? I figured a Pizza would be a safe bet to eat on this road side stand in a country where not an hour before I had passed by small cages full of dogs, a few of them hanging from hooks, already gutted and prepared for stewing…or whatever the simple but charming people that eats dogs do to a canine in order to eat it did. I was thinking about the ‘gravy’ comment as we took our seats at the only table available in front of the Happy Pizza Parlor and could only assume that some Navy S.E.A.L from DEEP Georgia had prowled through this area, years before, that being the reason why the sophisticated jack that stood before me now describing his amazingly potent marijuana pizza sauce as 'Gravy'. Most likely after 'The 'NAM" because our troops were never in Cambodia during the Vietnam conflict/Police action'.... , and people that called pizza sauce, gravy, don’t usually take the time to divert their ‘spendin money’ on a trip to Vietnam. Uncle Sam most likely footed the bill for whoever told this guy his sauce was 'gravy'. “You betcha! We’ll have three large very happy pizzas with olives, mushrooms and hot peppers, (I would have added pepperoni but I don’t eat sausage products in the far east) The Pies arrive and they were thin crust and very oily. Just the way I like it. We were packing a veritable mobile bar inside of our rucksacks and only needed a case of Coca-cola to mix our own drinks while we sat aside discussing the days events(that’s another post) and began to attack the molten disc with a vengeance, hunger would not be the proper term, we were attacking these pies once we tasted the ‘Very Happy’ Pizzas main ingredient in its sauce…Marijuana. I could tell that the person responsible for this variation of the classic pizza sauce knew their stuff. It was excellent. It was clear to me that while we were eating a simple pizza, that the person responsible for the sauce was quite adept at properly preparing Pot sautéed with Garlic and butter separately, before being combined with tomato puree’ and paste so that the taste offered to us was a actually a delicate blend of fresh herbs, spice and mature Sativa ‘fluff’. I had cooked many a brownie and made a few sauces with weed before, but only with the ‘shake’ leftover from a quarter pound, but never with actual mature and tasty buds… The pizza was exceptional to say the least and I couldn’t help but think that it was a shame that just because a bunch of crotchety old white guys decided to make Marijuana illegal just because some white party girls were hanging out with black jazz musicians in the 20’s and 30’s was just a Damned shame. We ate our share, and then began ordering slices with extra sauce. It was late in the day and we had to return our bikes to the ‘rent shop’ before 10pm or suffer an additional SEVEN dollar rental fee. The cost of the bikes didn’t concern us really, there were plenty of rental bike shops in ‘Nam, but we were going to be there for another 2 months and wanted to maintain good relations with the closest motorcycle rental proprietor, and the Aussies all had girls waiting for them back at the ‘Hotel’ we were all staying at in the ‘Ex-Pat’ district. I was prepared to ride up the road and to sleep in my one man capsule tent until I could see straight again, but…the Aussies were beginning to coalesce into a ‘Need to get back to base; we have Women waiting for us’ Group… and the 3 Americans, besides myself, wanting to just sit there and enjoy the sunset while eating more Very Happy Pizza. After about an hour transpired while we sat there before all of the Aussies and 2 of my own traitorous country men decided to mount up and return to their bikes and begin the 3 hour ride back to the ‘Bike Shop’. My friend and I decided to hang out and suffer the 7 dollar late fee and go it alone…maybe even slabbing with one of the local ladies. They just looked so sexy walking around with an Uzi strapped over their shoulder that it just called out to our simple man brains to stay and attempt the improbable. It is the improbable variants of male/female relations that enrich the life experience of persons of all cultures that makes the ‘Probable’ seem as if it were scripted. I would have none of that this vacation, so I paid the ‘Happy Pizza Parlor’ owner 3 dollars for a quart of his Very Happy sauce and I saddled up. I had to tie the quart of Very Happy Sauce to the handle bars of my bike within a custom web of twine. Thankfully I had earned by Wolf badge as a cub scout learning to tie nautical knots, else I would have wasted another hour trying to figure out how to mount the sauce to my vehicle, like a Home-Depot weekend warrior tying 4x4’s and 2x4’s to the top of his minivan. The next few hours are a bit cloudy, when I try to recall everything that occurred…, but I do remember one thing in particular. Me and my friend ,Mark, passed by three guys that flashed a sign’ SHOOT BOMB AT COW’…I could not ride past such an esoteric offering, as I am both crazy and curious. We turn around and go back to the man holding the sign and not a second after I have shut down the bike one of the fellows runs up to me, pointing his hand towards me while yelling ‘Happy Pizza!, Happy Pizza!’ He knew where I had just come from…. I spoke to the men as well as I could until I realized that they were basically charging 50 American dollars to fire a Vietnam War era ‘RPG’ (Rife propelled grenade) at a Water buffalo. I’ve been accused of doing crazy things before…but I would never fire an ‘RPG’ at an animal unless I intended to eat it afterwards, and I had just eaten almost 6 slices of very happy pizza and had no appetite. My buddy and I mounted our bikes and continued on our way down the dirt road towards Vietnam to take a hot shower and head out for a night on the town. I looked down and noticed the lid of the ‘very happy sauce’ had worked its way loose, from the jarring it was taking strapped to my handlebars. I pulled over and began working the twine over the top of the small bucket as a three wheeled Toyota ‘truck’( a wheel in the center of the front and two in back) sped by us, I could here the driver yelling something at us as he passed us by, a tall stack of empty baskets strapped to the bed of his vehicle as he bounced down the road to disappear around a turn, the sound of the truck soon absorbed by the jungle surrounding us on either side of the road. Finished with a new web of twined arrayed about the sauce we started the bikes up and continued on our way. About 20 minutes later I could see the 3-wheeled Toyota ahead of us, laying down on its side, the pile of baskets strewn across the dirt road. We slowed down as we approached the mess to see if we could be of any assistance before we realized that the driver was nowhere to be found and that the front of the truck was pocked with bullet holes. Fluids from the engine were pooling in the dirt as we watched. We could smell gunpowder in the air. But could do not hear nor see anything suspicious other than the empty Toyota on its side in front of us. Mark yelled “Let’s go man! Let’s Go!” as he lit the engines of his 500cc Honda dirt bike and not looking back as I could see him going into ‘speed’ position in his seat…He was a professional sport bike rider and I was not so as I twisted the throttle of my motorcycle all the way ,the front tire lifted off the ground and I almost lost control and came close to riding off the side of the road into a tree…or worse. I reached forward and pulled the small bucket of sauce out from the web of twine that was holding it in its place and tossed it aside, as I knew it would be splashing up on me very soon at the pace I had planned on maintaining as I put as much distance between me and that truck in as short a period of time as possible…unlike Mark though, I did look back. First in my mirror and then over my shoulder as I could see two men rushing out of the bushes along side of the road and appearing to level a rifle at me as I turned back around, laid myself down as much as possible and leaned forward as I gunned it, I wasn’t going to let the bike have a chance at bucking me off this time. I’ll end the memory of that day here, as it mostly has nothing to do with the ‘Very Happy Sauce’, but If we hadn’t of pulled over and that Toyota hadn’t have passed in front of us…who knows?

MOONBAT MANIA

I was attending my first press conferance as a journalist when I noticed Chelsea Clinton making lude gestures directed towards me.I avoided eye contact with her and when I turned to face Sen. Clinton I felt my underwear creeping up between my legs as she began to release a low unearthly hum and began gesturing at me. This in response to a question I posed to her, "Mrs. Clinton,Do you think it ethical for your husband to be carrying Helen Thomas to and from the Arab Embassy in a swaddle blanket?"

7th Cavalry

Among the many places I've traveled during the previous 2 months time perhaps my greatest culinary experiance was found in a large mess tent in the middle of a vast desert. It was there that I stayed for two nights with the United States 7th Cavalry, the deadliest and most overworked members of the famous/infamous 'Blackjack Battalion'. These men spend their days scouting and chasing extremely bad guys but at night they rustle through their allotment of M.R.E's to offer to the most skilled 'foodie' among them... First Sgt. Allison 'Chef' Garland, to formulate their govt. issued loveless mash into a taste of home. Our boys don't get shown a lot of love over there but 'Chef' makes sure they have bacon,butter and sweet kernel corn to transform the cold meals that they are given into something much better..far better..than the food these repressed and forgotten souls have ever been allowed to pursue to eat. The fact that the '7th' eats bacon with ALL of their M.R.E's is a point of pride among these sons of mothers, in a land where it is forbidden and is assured to them because of previous agreements hastily formulated so that the 7th would risk themselves to relieve and more often 'SAVE' the beaten down divisions that seemed to have been forgotten by their own battalion commanders in the previous 6 Wars( including Indian,Mexican, WWI,WWII,Korean,Vietnam and Iraqi missions.) Around here if you say you don't want bacon added to your 'Chicken Chow Mein,Chicken n Dumplings,Salisbury steak or Lasagna Meal Realy to Eat... you better run like hell, because the 7th will call in a gunship to smoke your sorry ass... Vegetarians and people that don't eat Bacon are not fit to fight and think too much before pulling the trigger. Everyone eats bacon round here. It's 6:30pm and the base is preparing to eat... Imagine... a squad of 130 Soldiers having earlier handed over their agreed upon and govt. issued M.R.E base ingrediant for the night and sauntering into the mess tent and being seated..wanting to eat Anything, but expecting it to be as close to Mommas home cookin as possible, and you're the cook, and your customers all have high powered assault rifles... One would think that in the year 2005 the Pentagan would equip our most at risk soldiers the common decency of fresh garlic cloves, Olives,butter, Kosher Salt, Peppercorns and perhaps even Shallots... but NOOOoooooo.... apparently we have not achieved the level of technology of logistics to provide such essential culinary items for men and women stuck in a situation that may require that they die all of a sudden.... In the absence of such foresight.. Sgt.'Chef' Garland has procured these and more for his fighters. The Meal began with Hot Coffee and caramelized figs,the figs being purchased from the local village Fig Farmer for the princely sum of 5 dollars. He only wanted 2 dollars but these were good figs,legendary even, so Mansu was paid 5 dollars. He handed over an armload of amber colored sugar snap candies in return for the gracious purchase. These went well with the after dinner Hot Tea that is becoming popular with most of the veterens. First course was portioned into the Army issued 'cups' in the form of a thick soup. Thick with barley and mutton,3 Military issued Crackers dusted with garlic and served with goat cheese. Delicious after being drizzled with the tart yogurt recieved from a wonderful Arab family in exchange for 'information'. 2nd course(Also the Main course) was (per individual) One ladle of Bacon flavoured Chicken Ala King, studded with corn kernels flash fried in bacon grease and combined with the ramen noodles every soldier ask for and recieves from back home. (Yes, it seems as though Ramen noodles are now and forever going to be desired and consumed by American men..in college,unemployed or in the military). Dessert was comprised of standard issued Military cookies( Cookie:Chocolate covered) sounds delicious! well it is when dipped into heated pots of reduced Figs spiced with cloves and sugar. This meal was prepared by 6 men under the strict guidance of Sgt. Garland and is always well recieved... If they don't like it, thats ok... the 7th Cav is an American force... and makes sure that crazy people recieve latrine duty. I'm back and I'm talking...

Pakistan Parkay

We had recently been sent to this region of the province because of a recent natural disaster. Our mission was to inspect a historic artesian well that had been constructed by the engineers of Alexanders great army thousands of years ago. the last time I had been there,almost 20 years ago , the water was still perculating up and over the sides of the smooth natural stones that formed a large above ground open cistern from which all passers-by were welcome to drink from...and all that passed by the well did indeed drink from it, and drink deeply, for it is the best water on this planet, and the loss of the well would have been unfortunate historically but the well would have to be recreated in any event because people in the area relied upon this centuries old stone water tank as sure as we rely upon our 'Last Chance' gas stations. We arrived at the site to find it unscathed and the only people around it were those fortunate to have been in this open area of the valley during the great upheaval. As this place was a travel stop... most people that would need to find a pristine source of fresh water were largely prevented from making the trek here due to the sorry state of the roads. We were able to make it to this location only after 3 days of travel using all-terrain and tracked vehicles. a Camel or an Ass wouldn't have stood a chance... As the 'Foodie' of the team I was paying close attention to two women nearby that seemed to be preparing a meal. One was seated on the ground in front of a criss-cross of sticks with a goats bladder hanging down from the middle of the stand and she was pushing it back and forth. My first thoughts,from me to you, were 'Now why is she doing that?' ' It couldn't be water inside I'm sure...' The bladder seemed tight, as if full of air, and it bobbled slightly as if partially filled with liquid. The woman next to her was sitting at an oval shaped slab of iron heated by glowing embers beneath it as she spalts flats of dough down onto it and they release a crisp sizzle after striking the surface... like the sound of a thin glass rod snapping in half..or the tac of the pull of a quality rifle trigger. The girl in front of the swinging bag of 'something' responded to the women making the bread when she would call out to her by opening the bladder and passing a fingerful amount of its contents that would be in turn delivered to the searing hot surface of the flat iron. I had to know what this was all about... so I walked over to them and after a few seconds of each of making Sergio Leone type eye contact I communicated that I wanted to know what was inside of this bladder. The young girl kindly opened it up and held it over to me... it smelled sour..and once I pulled it open and held it towards the sunlight I could see inside that it was full of milk.. and full of butter curds... These two girls would be the envy of most of the upper percentile of Chefs that I know...just because of their adherance to a pure and simple recipe that is shared verbally only and must be performed perfectly or else hours of time are wasted. . . and the Main Bread Staple is at risk of ruination. I decided to buy some of their butter to use in the meal I had decided to prepare that night for my team and the people around us fortunate enough to be here...and not there. I pulled out my K-bar and grabbed a 5 dollar bill and walked over to the guy that seemed to be in charge of the small herd of goats and sheep... We were gonna have Sheep in a Blanket tonight...with the help of my two new friends.