Weekends do not belong to us

It is amazing that the week can either go blazingly fast or crawl at a snail's pace on dope. But to us in the culinary profession, weekends do not generally belong to us.
We are in cramped cockpit sized kitchens amidst the searing heat and dangerous knives, during nights and weekends, when the rest of the world has clocked out and enjoying the cosmopolitan they have worked so hard for. It is mostly a thankless job, as 99% of our guests do not even bother to know who cooked that monstrosity of a well done steak.
But we cooks trudge on, because we love creating things with what nature has bestowed upon us. Even though we will never be rocket scientists, but we will be able to cook food like no other professional, we can raise all manner of emotion and feeling in every bite, slurp and gobble. A simple tomato can make you wince with pleasurable acidity in a well made pomodoro, red snapper so tender that the flakes are still steaming on the fork. Rich sauces that could enhance the flavor of special meats, tender briskets made possible through careful braising.
In all, I think the cook lords over the fate of your evening, because it is the food that makes it. On the weekend, weeknights, days, holidays, every time a plate is in front of you carefully crafted for your enjoyment.

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