Hell's Smitten

Thursday, June 27th, 2013

I notice Christina head towards the dorms, and I knew that Ramsay will be making his entrance soon. I check around the stations one last time to be sure everything looks as ready as it can be. Once I finish checking, I line up next to the stoves with the rest of the red team to await Chef Ramsay.

A few moments later, Christina returns with Red in tow. Red looks calmer now, but she still is embarrassed by all of the eyes on her. She quickly make her way to the chef lineup and stands at the back.

Chef Ramsay emerges from his office and comes to the head of the kitchen.

"I hope you all are ready to perform well. After all, your fish is a big part of the menu tonight. Tonight is seafood night, so those of you that would be on meat station will instead be a second fish station, understood?"

"Yes, Chef!" we shout.

"Good, excellent. Well, let's get started then shall we?" he turns his back to us and motions for the maitre d'.

"Jean-Phillipe, please open Hell's Kitchen for seafood night."

Jean-Phillipe nods and heads towards the entrance of Hell's Kitchen.

The seats fill up once more, giving us yet another full house to feed.

I am on appetizers tonight with Kalyani. Our two fish stations are being handled by Gail, Bella, Cindy, and Taylor. Red and Gina are heading up the garnish station.

Ramsay approaches our kitchen's head,

"Here we go, guys! First ticket in, appetizers. Two risotto, one scallop," his assertive voice echoes through the kitchen.

"Yes, Chef!" we respond, and immediately begin working on the ticket.

Being appetizers, the entire flow of the kitchen rests on Kalyani and I's shoulders. We each take to making risotto. As the risottos are nearly done cooking, I finish up the scallops, leaving my risotto next to Kalyani's.

Right as I finish searing the scallops perfectly, I hear Ramsay's exasperated voice.

"Oh come ON," he shouts, "these risottos are two completely different colors, Kalyani! I can't serve that at the same table! What were you thinking?"

I was too concentrated on getting the scallops exactly right that I didn't see Kalyani step away with the risottos! Cursing under my breath, I look up and lock eyes with Chef Ramsay, who is giving me a skeptical look.

"I would have thought you two could work better together than that. I expected much more." He not-so-delicately drops the pans down on the metal table at the head of the kitchen. Kalyani stands dumbfounded, still at the pass.

"Well, don't stand there like a buffoon. Combine the fucking things before they get cold! Honestly, good God..." Ramsay shakes his head, pressing his thumb and index finger into his temples.

Kalyani springs to life and immediately mixes the risottos. I bring up my scallops at the same time and set them next to Chef. He quickly makes eye contact with me as I set them down. There is an obvious incredulous air about him, but I see some hope regained as he touches the scallops and determines them good enough for plating.

After sending off the first appetizers, Ramsay calls out the next order.

"How long?" he asks, directing the question to our station.

"About eight minutes, Chef!" I shout back.

He nods then heads towards the boys' side.

"What are you fucking doing??" he shouts from the blue kitchen, then disappears behind the wall dividing the kitchens, likely to scold whoever has messed up.

A minute or so later, he returns to the front holding a full plate of scallops.

"Fucking insane. It hasn't even been thirty minutes, yet the blue kitchen has already run through half their scallops ON THE FIRST ORDER," he enunciates, slamming the full plate onto the table, sending scallops flying. He then picks up a rubbery scallop and lobs it at someone, I can't see who.

"You thought you could hide this fucking shitfest from me, yeah?" he continues shouting, "You fuck. Get the fuck out of my kitchen. Slimy LIAR!" his whole body shakes as he says this, the veins in the side of his neck bulging as if they wish they could pop out and beat whoever had screwed up.

"You, Dave and Jay, hop off that second fish station and finish up the fucking appetizers. Well, whichever of the appetizers we even still have available TO be made. Unbelievable..." Ramsay shakes his head and sighs exasperatedly.

When he heads back to our kitchen, thankfully we are prepared. We manage to get out the rest of the appetizers with no further missteps. Now, our kitchen is tasked with completing entrees.

After a few minutes of waiting for the first order of fish, Ramsay comes back over to the red kitchen and calls out,

"are you all done with your fish yet? Please, I can't take much more." He pleads with us.

"Yes, Chef!" the ladies from the fish stations call out, then Bella and Taylor bring up their trays.

"Behind you, Chef," Taylor says as she places down her tray. Bella follows suit and lays her tray down.

Ramsay quickly grabs the two trays and stops Bella and Taylor on their way back to their stations.

"Is this a fucking joke to everyone?" he spits out, his face turning red with anger.

"I asked for two white sea bass and one mackerel. Look what you've given me." He tilts the trays forward, six prepared fish fillets slide down the pan until they are at the edge.

"Six fucking fish fillets. For one table. You four are literally right across from each other and can't communicate over who's making what fish. It isn't fucking rocket science you inept simpletons!" The anger in his eyes inflames.

"I swear to fucking God I'm about to give up on both teams right now..." he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Neither team has managed to get more than one entree out to the hungry customers. Over an hour and thirty minutes have passed.

"If there is a SINGLE screw up from this point on, I promise, I will shut down both fucking kitchens. I don't even care anymore. Obviously, you all don't care, so why should I?" He throws up his hands in the air and juts his head forward, challenging us.

"Yes Chef!" we call out, our nerves wracking.

The second table's fish are prepared, and thankfully the two fish stations had coordinated themselves. Ramsay meticulously scans the fish for any defect...

"Service, please." his voice calls calmly from the front.

It feels like everyone in the red kitchen collectively relaxes at that moment, maybe we can still salvage what is left of dinner.

Or, maybe not.

"I'm done. I'm fucking done," comes Ramsay's voice from the front of the blue kitchen. The boys look confusedly at each other.

"Of the four of you on fish, you'd think at least one could check the fish before you send it up here. Raw. Fucking. Mackerel."

Ramsay shakes his head, then slams a fist down into the raw fish, sending scraps of it flying. He then turns and addressed both kitchens,

"Shut it down. Shut it all down. All of you. No one wins this service. Both teams, decide on two fucks that should get the hell out of Hell's Kitchen, and now all of you get the hell out of MY sight."

The venom in his words stings me, and my heart aches. Red can't take it and starts sobbing silently.

With our spirit broken, we make our way up to the dorms.

This isn't going to be pretty.