Self Cooked Stone Steaks
The service industry has become obsessed with ramming do-it-yourself down our throat. It’s made out to be some amazingly great thing. Where we are supposed to feel good about doing duties and tasks that others used to get paid to do... primarily because nobody else would want to do this for free.
We’ve become like children who get duped into cleaning up their room by a parent who says “let’s make a game of it!”
As a result... we now check ourselves in at airports. This started out good. Only a few adventurous sorts would tackle the machine while others lined up to be served. A quick line to drop your bag and you’re on your merry way.
Only now, everybody gets their own boarding cards. So the baggage drop off line is just as long now as the boarding pass line used to be. Nothing is saved unless you decide to travel with no baggage at all.
Still, airport self serve is a fairly painless one. How about the one that gets me the most... and the longest running one... all you can eat buffet.
So the deal here is that you can eat as much as possible as long as the people preparing the food have nothing to do with serving it to you. The long lines to get a scoop of rice are one thing. But we have to put an awful lot of trust into the idea that the strangers who wander up to the troff ahead of us are sanitary. Fingering an egg roll hardly seems beyond the realms of possibility. And what of the heat lamp? Should we feel good about eating food that’s been left to simmer under glorified light bulbs? The end result is that you eat more food than you actually need in you and it’s at a low end quality. Yet we go nuts for the deal and elbow each other out of the way for the last scoop of dried out lasagna.
Higher end restaurants have gone in on the action. Fondu places have been around forever. Raw meat and boiling water... somehow it seems to work. A social aspect to the meal enables it to be one of the few that get away with legitimate do-it-yourself. But yesterday I was at a restaurant that posted rock grilled steak.
For more money (about $3 extra) you have the privilege of finishing off the cooking process of your steak. It comes out to you half done on a stone that’s heated to 700 degrees. It’s then your job to turn it over, cut it, and see to it reaching your desired degree of cooking. Rare? Well done? Medium? From now on, you no longer have the option of sending it back to the kitchen complaining that it isn’t done to your liking. It’s all on you!
That’s a lot of pressure for someone who just wants to sit back, chat, and have a meal. The steak can be overdone by the simple slipping into too good of a conversation. And let’s not forget, you’re sitting inches from a 700 degree stone. Reach across the table for a napkin, and leave half the skin of your forearm sizzling there next to the meat. Your steak will surly be overdone as you take the time to get iced and gauzed. A perfect evening. All at an the bargain cost of $3 more!
Grocery stores are the worst though. We used to bring our food to cash registers and look at the cashier with a degree of pity. Remembering when we were a seventeen year old entering the adult world of the working. We’d watch as they fumble with an item, looking for a price tag or barcode. Exasperated, they’d get on the phone calling Bob to the cash for a price check. This was no job that I ever aspired to do. I was thankful for not doing it and sometimes felt like I should give them a little something extra just to help them out financially... anything to get them on to a better job.
Today, we are meant to feel overjoyed for stepping into the role of seventeen year old cashier. Bring your groceries to a scanner and do it all yourself! Only... I don’t want to weigh bananas... and I don’t want to try to scan a tin of soup. I don’t even know this Bob guy who’ll do my price check!
Somehow, businesses are giving us less service and trying their best to make the customer feel that this is a good thing. The funny thing is, quite a few people buy into it. They gleefully head for the self checkout line at the grocery store. And they seem confused as to the holdup, not knowing why that eighty-three year old woman is having trouble scanning her can of peas. What a glorious and advanced age we live in.
WEDNESDAY...
— Busy day at work. I’m pretty much doing it alone from 6 to 2:30. Once Phil gets in there, I’m pretty wiped out.
— Groceries and gas slow the getting home process. Just some baseball on TV to polish the night.
THURSDAY...
— Paranormal Activity... round two. It’s fun again to see.
FRIDAY...
— Quiet night at work... pizza comes in to make it go better. Getting cold... -10 with windchill tonight. Brrr.
SATURDAY...
— Scratchy throat, hot and cold, and some general aches... sick again. Work is quiet and I get through okay, despite feeling crumby.
SUNDAY...
— Get some much needed stuff at the store after work. Vitamin D and multi vitamins... and orange juice.
— Play ball even though I’m not feeling great. First game since I hurt my thumb where I don’t feel off in the field. Could still hit a bit better in this indoor league, but felt good in the field. Finally.
— Skip post game drinks in favour of a shower and soup... want to get rid of this sick thing.
MONDAY...
— Find out my new team to be at work. Come December I’ll be back in AFIS with a decent looking group. Pretty quiet day otherwise... Still not feeling 100% but improving for sure.
TUESDAY...
— Hockey night. Meet up with the crew and we eat at the Crazy Horse restaurant... then off to the stadium for the Oilers vs. Sens. Good game that goes to the cursed shootout. Ottawa pulls it out 4-3.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Making It Up As I Go Along #389
The Snow Tire Affair
There are connections between people. Connections that can span the globe where, without talking to or seeing them, you just know something is wrong. Such connections are most often spoken of between twins. One falls and breaks a leg... the other feels pain. One trapped under a fallen bookshelf... the other feeling a sudden urge to read. Hmm, maybe that isn’t completely right... but you get the idea.
The Brown family has had such a connection. Even though my sister is on the western end of the continent and my parents are in the far east. And even though I’m perched in the middle of them all... we came together last week. No phone, e-mail or text message played any roll. Perhaps we came together in our dreams. But last Wednesday, from coast, to middle, to coast... we all had winter tires installed on our cars.
Sure this isn’t as sexy a connection as those direct to video movies which star Pamela Anderson as a pair of twins. There are no double crosses, murders, or nation wide journeys where one can’t rest until they’ve reached the other, as they lay trapped. But it’s still pretty spooky. Hey, I mean really... if a Doritos chip can look like Jesus, this isn’t beyond the realm of the supernatural.
Some knowledge was shared the night before the event. A quick e-mail exchange between sister and I enabled us to realize we were both about to hit the garages the next day. But the plans were all set in motion well before these e-mails. Edena makes plans of this nature weeks in advance. It may have been first hatched as far back as May. You just really never know.
But in previous years, despite best intentions, I have found myself waiting until after the first major snowfall. When the car needs a good twelve hours of garage time before it’s ready to be picked up. For some reason, this year, something entered my subconscious. And I had to make the move while still able to walk back to work in a fleece and sneakers.
The eeriness peaked upon learning that dad had also brought the car in. Just a casual e-mail discussing the days events. Yet the mention of the snow tires stuck out on the electronic page as if it were written in blood and dripping down the wall. I sat dumbfounded at the coincidence.
Near a week has gone by since the Day of the Tire. I’ve been able to drive about with little need of them. Temperatures have stayed up and roads have remained clear. But this must have happened for a reason.
I suppose I should not be surprised in the fact that I can not understand this. The universe is a complex place... one that we are unable to fully comprehend. If a butterfly’s wings can create hurricanes, I’m sure the Simultaneous Snow Tire Affair also holds a greater meaning.
Last Wednesday, the Brown family set the wheels in motion for something magnificent.
TUESDAY...
— Work... not a real busy day... a staff meeting that meant nothing.
— Bit of TV in the evening.
WEDNESDAY...
— Officially out of CPSIC. It won’t happen until the beginning of December. At that time, it’s back to AFIS for me... mostly night shifts again. Back to eight hour days and regular weekends off. It’ll take getting used to in many ways.
— Movie night. After Phil drops me to get my car (snow tires put on) it’s supper at the mall and then Paranormal Activity at the movies with a crew of us. Sarah and I are the only two to really like it. Jamie thought it was alright. Everyone else (Phil, Jon, Sheila, Julia... disliked it).
THURSDAY...
— Find out that yesterday was a family bonding event from coast to coast... Edena, mom and dad, and I all put snow tires on the cars yesterday.
— Quiet time around the house waiting for night shift. Not a great afternoon nap, so we’ll see if tonight gets tough.
FRIDAY...
— Bad back. Big knot in the middle of the shoulders.
— Two phone calls before 9:30 this morning... which isn’t great when bedtime was about 7:20. Got back to sleep again after until about 12:15. So not too bad.
SATURDAY...
— Up around 11:30. Sleeping in to most but not when you consider I went down at about 6:30. Hang around the house... nap during the hockey game and watch a few movies.
SUNDAY...
— Quiet day around... then off to ball. We lose a close one. Supper with Nick, Dusty and Melissa afterwards and then home for some Sunday night TV.
MONDAY...
— More goalie masks in the house! I end a walk of the pond and go to the mailbox to find my miniature masks arrive from the Hockey Hall of Fame. Gerry Cheevers and Grant Fuhr join the Fuhr autographed rookie mask mom and dad gave me on their visit. I’m just a goalie mask junkie. I love to look at them.
There are connections between people. Connections that can span the globe where, without talking to or seeing them, you just know something is wrong. Such connections are most often spoken of between twins. One falls and breaks a leg... the other feels pain. One trapped under a fallen bookshelf... the other feeling a sudden urge to read. Hmm, maybe that isn’t completely right... but you get the idea.
The Brown family has had such a connection. Even though my sister is on the western end of the continent and my parents are in the far east. And even though I’m perched in the middle of them all... we came together last week. No phone, e-mail or text message played any roll. Perhaps we came together in our dreams. But last Wednesday, from coast, to middle, to coast... we all had winter tires installed on our cars.
Sure this isn’t as sexy a connection as those direct to video movies which star Pamela Anderson as a pair of twins. There are no double crosses, murders, or nation wide journeys where one can’t rest until they’ve reached the other, as they lay trapped. But it’s still pretty spooky. Hey, I mean really... if a Doritos chip can look like Jesus, this isn’t beyond the realm of the supernatural.
Some knowledge was shared the night before the event. A quick e-mail exchange between sister and I enabled us to realize we were both about to hit the garages the next day. But the plans were all set in motion well before these e-mails. Edena makes plans of this nature weeks in advance. It may have been first hatched as far back as May. You just really never know.
But in previous years, despite best intentions, I have found myself waiting until after the first major snowfall. When the car needs a good twelve hours of garage time before it’s ready to be picked up. For some reason, this year, something entered my subconscious. And I had to make the move while still able to walk back to work in a fleece and sneakers.
The eeriness peaked upon learning that dad had also brought the car in. Just a casual e-mail discussing the days events. Yet the mention of the snow tires stuck out on the electronic page as if it were written in blood and dripping down the wall. I sat dumbfounded at the coincidence.
Near a week has gone by since the Day of the Tire. I’ve been able to drive about with little need of them. Temperatures have stayed up and roads have remained clear. But this must have happened for a reason.
I suppose I should not be surprised in the fact that I can not understand this. The universe is a complex place... one that we are unable to fully comprehend. If a butterfly’s wings can create hurricanes, I’m sure the Simultaneous Snow Tire Affair also holds a greater meaning.
Last Wednesday, the Brown family set the wheels in motion for something magnificent.
TUESDAY...
— Work... not a real busy day... a staff meeting that meant nothing.
— Bit of TV in the evening.
WEDNESDAY...
— Officially out of CPSIC. It won’t happen until the beginning of December. At that time, it’s back to AFIS for me... mostly night shifts again. Back to eight hour days and regular weekends off. It’ll take getting used to in many ways.
— Movie night. After Phil drops me to get my car (snow tires put on) it’s supper at the mall and then Paranormal Activity at the movies with a crew of us. Sarah and I are the only two to really like it. Jamie thought it was alright. Everyone else (Phil, Jon, Sheila, Julia... disliked it).
THURSDAY...
— Find out that yesterday was a family bonding event from coast to coast... Edena, mom and dad, and I all put snow tires on the cars yesterday.
— Quiet time around the house waiting for night shift. Not a great afternoon nap, so we’ll see if tonight gets tough.
FRIDAY...
— Bad back. Big knot in the middle of the shoulders.
— Two phone calls before 9:30 this morning... which isn’t great when bedtime was about 7:20. Got back to sleep again after until about 12:15. So not too bad.
SATURDAY...
— Up around 11:30. Sleeping in to most but not when you consider I went down at about 6:30. Hang around the house... nap during the hockey game and watch a few movies.
SUNDAY...
— Quiet day around... then off to ball. We lose a close one. Supper with Nick, Dusty and Melissa afterwards and then home for some Sunday night TV.
MONDAY...
— More goalie masks in the house! I end a walk of the pond and go to the mailbox to find my miniature masks arrive from the Hockey Hall of Fame. Gerry Cheevers and Grant Fuhr join the Fuhr autographed rookie mask mom and dad gave me on their visit. I’m just a goalie mask junkie. I love to look at them.
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