Cliche’s are like stereotypes: they exist for a reason. But unlike stereotypes, when it comes to tracing cliches back to their origins, people are a little more excited to share their knowledge of the source.
Did you know that in the middle ages, when people thatched the roofs of their houses with layers and layers of straw, animals would often burrough and take shelter in these layers of straw? Well as you may know, wet straw is very slippery, so when it rained, all these animals would slide out of their roof-homes and onto the passersbys below. You may have guessed by now, that this is the origin of the phrase “It’s raining cats and dogs!”
If you’ve ever had any question or confusion about where that one in this title comes from, let me help you out: IT’S FUCKING HOT IN KITCHENS!!!
First I’ll set a bar for you, and then I’ll do some explaining.
When I was in my fifth year of cooking, I was working the sauté station at a neighborhood bistro in Chicago that the Chef of my previous restaurant had agreed to open up. It was a lovely (but not ideal) restaurant space, but the kitchen was a fucking logistical nightmare. Skipping ahead to the pertinent details, the linear “galley-style” kitchen dead-ended on one end of the line. So the airflow was limited, and I still haven’t figured out if the high ceilings were a positive or not. Now this was during an historic heatwave (2012, for those of you who might remember), during which there were three consecutive weeks where the temperature sat comfortably in triple digits every day. One night, the whole city block the restaurant was on lost power, because everyone was blasting their air-conditioners so hard, that it fucked up the whole power grid. You can imagine how hot it might have been for us standing over stoves.
I’ll fast-forward to the juicy bits: That kitchen was so hot then, that we would frequently step outside for some “cool air”, when it was 103 degrees outside. At one point during a busy service, I noticed a thermometer dangling on a shelf right next to my station reading 135F. And to answer your question of “how?”, I stopped trying to drink my cup of ice-water, and just had servers bring pitchers of it, that I would periodically just dump over my (at-the-time bald) head, and keep cooking.
This might sound stupid for me to say here, but heat comes from many sources in a professional kitchen. Usually if heat beyond what should reasonably be expected is an actual problem, rarely is it the fault of cooking equipment. This is why the cliche is so fitting for public use: If everything is working just fine, and you can’t take the heat of a regular service hot-line (a grill. a broiler. a deep fryer, etc.) you should very much get out of the kitchen. It is a little different, however, when you have all those things to deal with and then the restaurant AC goes out. Or you’re in an area of a kitchen where there’s no circulation. Or maybe the kitchen you work in is so upscale and expensive, that the broiler they bought and installed right in your face is the top-of-the-line broiler that pumps out 600 degrees all the time “guaranteed!!!”. Or perhaps the power-outage described above, kills the power to your restaurant on a Saturday night, half an hour before closing time (this actually happened to me at two different restaurants). Now you have to put out the rest of your plates by a combination of tea candles and the light from the fire from your stove… and it’s still 116 fucking degrees.
All dramatics aside, kitchens really are hot as the devil’s butt crack. The heat alone is a big reason I tell those who ask me about going to culinary school or not, to work in a kitchen for six months before making a decision. But that is gonna be for my next post!…
Salt and Love 