|Crew devouring their meat.|
Storms flew in and out over the lake and dumped on us all day, threatening to rain on our barbecue parade, but just around 6ish, the rain stopped and the crew lined up to take fixings out to the picnic tables.
After everything was out the door and I was about to join them, Eve and I took a little pause and I vented about my future - a topic that's been on my mind a lot lately. I had just gotten an email from a captain of a boat in Los Angeles that I was hoping to work on in last November, but it didn't work out. I said to Eve that who knew what the future would bring, but let's face it, it was really unrealistic to think I might get on that new chef competition show I planned to audition for in Chicago.
Then the phone rang. "Hm," I said. "I don't recognize the number. But maybe I oughta answer it. Maybe it's the captain."
"That's not a Los Angeles number," she said. Though I have no clue how she would know this.
I answered. "Hello?"
It was the casting agency for the show. Did I really work on a boat? Did I go to culinary school? Had I worked in restaurants? And would I mind skipping the open casting call and coming directly to a call-back interview with her on Friday the 12th?
|A tall ship cook's wet dream.|
Hash with leftover short rib meat
Fritatta with leftover banh mi vegetables
Homemade garlicy dill pickles
Various salads and spreads and crackers
Parker House rolls with wheat flour and molasses
Macaroni and cheese
Spinach salad with blue cheese, dried cherries and bacon bits