BBQ

The food service industry is NOT my calling in life. That, at least, is a lesson I've learned today.

I just planned and executed a fundraiser BBQ for 100 people.

Menu:
Baked chicken marinated in garlic, onion, ginger, soy sauce, limes and wine
Korean BBQ Beef
Sausage, mushroom, bell pepper and onion Kebabs
Rice and Salad


I made all the food myself. ALL OF IT. I had help assembling and grilling, but the gruesome parts were left to me. I think I cooked my weight in food.

Ever sink your arm up to the elbow in a vat of raw chicken? It's a feeling that stays with you--not to mention the lingering raw meat stench--for days.

Lovely. Just lovely.

I usually salivate at the thought bbq kebabs, chicken and Korean beef. But I've spent so much time in such close proximity with all of these things the past few days that I don't think I'll be eating anything any of it for awhile.

Wrestling with 30 pounds of raw meat, scurrying around all over the damned city to buy supplies and ingredients, I started to become a little disgruntled.

It's all for a good cause, of course. But goddamn, it was a LOT of work.

I have a newfound respect for restauranteurs.