Restaurants, commentary by Kellasandra Ferrara at
Zakaria Zayane



written by: Kellasandra Ferrara



I used to look forward to just a few hours off, let alone a whole morning or even a day.
Now I don’t know how to fill up the time.
Miss the bakery at 4am or the restaurant at last call. The vendors, the markets, the customers, hell even the inspectors.
Miss who would call out that day, figuring which station you would be at, knowing if you went on the line, they would worry about you going off menu & food costs would go up.
Miss putting on a clean apron to talk to customers, spending too much time at their tables.

Miss the ingredients, getting to be creative. No one ever minded being guinea pigs, screaming out ‘taste testers’ to see who comes running. Surprised when the parking valet showed up but hey, new set of taste buds, I didn’t care.
Miss burn cream, Band Aids, butterflies and super glue (don’t ask).
Miss walking down the street & peoples’ reactions of you walking by, usually of them getting hungry, my hair & clothes scented by Vanilla, Chocolate, Citrus & smiling when Matcha confounded them.
Still don’t like cooking for one. A Bowl of cereal will do, again.

Missing most are my fellow comrades – chefs, bakers, line cooks, dishwashers, runners, bartenders & servers.
Coming in everyday was an adventure. Whose day was it today always made it interesting. That person got to choose the music (dance moves in non skids are not recommended) learn new words (I know how to swear in at least 4 languages) & made our employee meals (garbage rice is the best).
Really only stuck to one type of schedule:
Bubble tea break @ 9a
Cortadita kick @ 2p
Wine tasting @ 4p
Bourbon @ 10p (they wouldn’t let me near the ice pick)
Find something open to eat after the shift ends.
I miss it all – conversations, meals, dancing, singing, drinks.
I miss being part of that ride, every day.

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