So, having been back at work or a month or so, I've now been immersed in the Redondo/Hermosa/Manhattan Beach communities long enough to make a few observations, at least as they pertain to the lunch and rush hours.
I've taken a shine to a little Mexican greasy spoon just off of the beach. It's cheap, with good sized portions, and frankly, delicious. (Ironically, it's one of the few places I've seen WITHOUT Mexican kitchen help.) Anyway, I go there about once a week, and it continues to crack me up. Clearly, I've stumbled upon a little surfers mess hall, as the walls are lined with signed photos of surfers, as opposed to the usual head shot photos of mediocre celebrities (the kind that would actually think to carry head shots with them for just such an occasion) you'd see in a comparable diner. And apparently, within the surfer world, any semblence of understanding of the social contract is non-existant.
A week or two ago, on the first really hot day out here (like 85 degrees), I happened to go to this place for lunch. I get inside, and these dudes are chillin', eating their burritos, sporting nothing more than their Jams or wet suits. That's it. Not EVEN flip-flops. Jeff Spicoli in real-time, 3D. At first I was thinking, "Right on! Who needs the artificial constraints of society?! Be free!" Then I kept on thinking, "Wait a minute, I don't like to eat food in my own HOME in just a pair of shorts and no shirt! Not even my bagel with cream cheese on the laziest, sloppiest Sunday in the world. That's not even comfortable! And hot Mexican food?? That's just plain loco!"
I've also discovered that there is a revolution in physics taking place. They are literally, completely re-working our understanding of the workings of time out here. See, back in New York, I'd dash out to the deli or something at lunch, for a quick bite. This place would be like 8 deep on the line, and they'd still get me a HOT sandwich within 5 minutes. In the mornings, these 3 cooks would take these MASSIVE construction site orders, (one guy ordering for like 20 guys), each order more particular than the one before. "Gimme 3 eggs and bacon on wheat toast, with the top piece buttered, JUST on the outside, and the bottom piece with jelly, JUST on the inside. Make one egg poached, one egg scrambled, and one egg with the yolk leaking, eeeever so slightly." 20 of these orders at once, knives flying, fingers in constant peril, and they whisk us all in and out. Here, I go in, and there's like 5 people in the restaurant. 3 of them are already eating. So one guy has his order in already. "Cool. I'll be out of here in no time," I think. I order my quesedilla to go. 5 minutes pass. At 10 minutes, I see the first guy's come out. At 15 minutes mine comes out.
I started thinking, "How can this be? It defies everything I've ever learned. 20 people served in 5 minutes, vs. 2 people served in 20 minutes. What kind of f'd up inverse relationship is going on here? Did I used to live in a worm hole or something? Is someone, somewhere travelling at the speed of light, thus slowing down all sense of time?" I figured it out though. THEY DON'T MULTI-TASK here. Cook gets an order, and he doesn't move from it until it's DONE. Start to finish. No interruptions. Can't be disturbed, lest anything happen to the huevos rancheros.
But it's not just this one place. It's everywhere. I keep getting in trouble no matter where I go. On the busier days, I'm like, "Holly, I'll be right back. Gonna grab some lunch." I keep taking the bait, and keep getting burned. I just don't see how these places can afford to exist. They process like 10 orders/hour. For real. What kind of profit margins do they have where they can get away with this? I swear I'm gonna start my own restaurant. I can't cook worth squat, but hell if I wouldn't get the food out quickly.
I've taken a shine to a little Mexican greasy spoon just off of the beach. It's cheap, with good sized portions, and frankly, delicious. (Ironically, it's one of the few places I've seen WITHOUT Mexican kitchen help.) Anyway, I go there about once a week, and it continues to crack me up. Clearly, I've stumbled upon a little surfers mess hall, as the walls are lined with signed photos of surfers, as opposed to the usual head shot photos of mediocre celebrities (the kind that would actually think to carry head shots with them for just such an occasion) you'd see in a comparable diner. And apparently, within the surfer world, any semblence of understanding of the social contract is non-existant.
A week or two ago, on the first really hot day out here (like 85 degrees), I happened to go to this place for lunch. I get inside, and these dudes are chillin', eating their burritos, sporting nothing more than their Jams or wet suits. That's it. Not EVEN flip-flops. Jeff Spicoli in real-time, 3D. At first I was thinking, "Right on! Who needs the artificial constraints of society?! Be free!" Then I kept on thinking, "Wait a minute, I don't like to eat food in my own HOME in just a pair of shorts and no shirt! Not even my bagel with cream cheese on the laziest, sloppiest Sunday in the world. That's not even comfortable! And hot Mexican food?? That's just plain loco!"
I've also discovered that there is a revolution in physics taking place. They are literally, completely re-working our understanding of the workings of time out here. See, back in New York, I'd dash out to the deli or something at lunch, for a quick bite. This place would be like 8 deep on the line, and they'd still get me a HOT sandwich within 5 minutes. In the mornings, these 3 cooks would take these MASSIVE construction site orders, (one guy ordering for like 20 guys), each order more particular than the one before. "Gimme 3 eggs and bacon on wheat toast, with the top piece buttered, JUST on the outside, and the bottom piece with jelly, JUST on the inside. Make one egg poached, one egg scrambled, and one egg with the yolk leaking, eeeever so slightly." 20 of these orders at once, knives flying, fingers in constant peril, and they whisk us all in and out. Here, I go in, and there's like 5 people in the restaurant. 3 of them are already eating. So one guy has his order in already. "Cool. I'll be out of here in no time," I think. I order my quesedilla to go. 5 minutes pass. At 10 minutes, I see the first guy's come out. At 15 minutes mine comes out.
I started thinking, "How can this be? It defies everything I've ever learned. 20 people served in 5 minutes, vs. 2 people served in 20 minutes. What kind of f'd up inverse relationship is going on here? Did I used to live in a worm hole or something? Is someone, somewhere travelling at the speed of light, thus slowing down all sense of time?" I figured it out though. THEY DON'T MULTI-TASK here. Cook gets an order, and he doesn't move from it until it's DONE. Start to finish. No interruptions. Can't be disturbed, lest anything happen to the huevos rancheros.
But it's not just this one place. It's everywhere. I keep getting in trouble no matter where I go. On the busier days, I'm like, "Holly, I'll be right back. Gonna grab some lunch." I keep taking the bait, and keep getting burned. I just don't see how these places can afford to exist. They process like 10 orders/hour. For real. What kind of profit margins do they have where they can get away with this? I swear I'm gonna start my own restaurant. I can't cook worth squat, but hell if I wouldn't get the food out quickly.
1 comment:
That is what you get outside of New York. Slow people. Philly isn't so bad, but most of the rest of the country...your best bet though it has its own risks, is to do the buffet places for quick stops.
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