สิบสอง (S̄ib s̄xng)

When you become a proud citizen to the world of hospitality, it is not far fetched to constantly be asked,
"So what made you decide to cook?, or "How did you end up here?". It's interesting because both of my parents are blue collar, professionals. My mom is the administrator for a global law firm and my dad is the CEO of a construction company in N.Y.
At the tender age of 15, when I decided to get my hands dirty in the kitchen; I'm sure they hoped that my passion was just going to be a phase. To be honest I always knew this life was meant for me and in hind sight, I realized how it actually saved me! A few years ago I was so shy and reserved, I went through an awkward adolescent stage, like most. But the kitchen made me get out of my own head. It made me focus on exactly what I was doing, instead of others. Speaking to strangers in dining rooms created a more sociable and sometimes funny Jamila. I never in a million years would think that I would be living in foreign country, managing a very diverse team who could easily double my number years in the industry. But, here I am! I remember only 6 years ago, I started working at an up and coming contemporary-American restaurant in Yonkers. Own and ran by Westchester's own, Iron Chef winner, Peter Kelly.

It was dinner service. I was shadowing an unkept, and quite frantic to be honest, JWU grad. He was here, he was there, he was everywhere! When you step into a kitchen for the first time you feel these vibes, whether it's a controlled chaos or a shit show, you can feel it. In this kitchen everyone was in rhythmic control, except for Mike! But it was all good, this was an opportunity to learn from all of his  unfortunate mistakes.

As he plated the watermelon salad, I WATCHED. I mean, like a fucking hawk, I watched his every move. I knew it was going to be my turn next and I didn't have the time or patience to mess up. He plated the irregular shaped watermelon on to a round plate. He used a small Global paring knife to trim the edges and it was beautiful. He completed a vibrant circle of yellow and red melon. After, he topped his creation off with crumbled goat cheese and pepitas. I thought to myself, "okay, I can do that". And all of a sudden he shouted, "Thai Shrimp!" to the opposite end of the line. I stepped back from my station, unsure of what exactly was about to happen.

Within minutes, 3 jumbo-sized shrimp arrived in the pass, Mike urgently arranged the main components on to the salad. Each shrimp was glazed with a honey brown sauce that dripped down the crustaceans, to the base of melon, it looked like money! "Thai basil" he said, "Thai basil!" he projected again. "Oh shit", I didn't realize that he was talking at me. I looked up and delicately placed the purple finishings, in the center. He glanced at me like I wasn't moving quick enough. I threw the dish in the window, and out the swinging door, it went.

That adrenaline rush was amazing, like nothing I've ever felt. Just the thought of our masterpiece going out into the world, and being devoured, was incredible. I wanted to shriek as it went into the dining room "I helped make that!" I was ready for the next ticket. "Here we go, 'member the Caesar?", my mentor asked. "Yupp!" and I began. I knew every dish on the station at this point except for the Spinach Salad. It was only needed with the raw tuna dish, and no one ever ordered it. Next ticket, read "2 Thai Sal". I was in my own rookie world as I quickly worked, "watermelon slices...then cheese, okay...pumpkin seeds, oh shit the shrimp!" I politely called out to the grill "Thai Shrimp, please". The guy on Sauté just looked at me. "Gotta be louder, hun!" Oh, damn it, I thought. Alright,  I barked, "2 Thai Shrimp!!!".
"There it is! Sauté replied and winked at me.
I smiled back and set the basil garnish aside, ready for the shrimp to arrive in the pass.

Xo
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