Words

Scotland is starting to get cold. Last night I was out in a long coat and was still freezing. Every word I spoke misted on the air. Can’t wait for winter. It’s strange finding a 17° day warm enough to be riding in a T-shirt – at home it’d be jumper weather, but after almost two months here, it seems quite pleasant.

After ten days in the kitchen, accumulating cuts, burns and bumps, I feel I’ve almost hit my stride. I finished a shift on Friday night, the restaurant having served almost eighty customers (the most since I’ve started), feeling ecstatic, if exhausted. One of the chefs introduced me to someone as “the new chef”, which, while incorrect, made me feel good. I did have one depressing night where my micromanager joined me in the kitchen, but having recovered from that, I think I might actually enjoy this cooking-for-my-supper lark.