So I’ve been watching Hell’s Kitchen so much lately. It’s basically all I’ve been doing for the past few weeks.
Today in math my teacher asked “Do you understand?”
And I answered “yes chef” then buried my head in shame.
One of our drum majors looks like Gordon Ramsay, so it’s been a running joke in my section to always say “Yes, Chef!” whenever they instruct us to do something. One time we were practicing our formations and my section has to go from a straight line to a spiral. It was sloppy and the drum major yelled out “I can make a better spiral than that in my sleep, this is pathetic!” in a replica of Gordon Ramsay’s accent. Everyone laughed for over a minute, even the band directors laughed. I freaking love our drum majors.
It was so full of flavor because of her upbringing, the poverty that she came from. The preserving technique that made everything taste richer, deeper. The fresh chicken that she hand picked. Drying the bird, which gives you the perfect skin. The salting because she never trusted refrigerators, the two or three day’s worth of meals that she would create from one chicken because being poor makes you inventive.