...and here it is, ROBRO-CHAPS!
21.1.08
20.1.08
18.1.08
Experiencing a Causal Crisis
When considering the need for a superhero it is important to consider the causal requirements of their manifestation. One must ask the questions: Is their appearance the result of some unknown need in the populace, a silent call for help? Or is it accidental, the result of a series of serendipitous events whose need was, prior to their appearance, altogether unknown?
In other words, do the likes of Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne appear because we as human-beings need the help of these superheroes to secure our survival? Or do we merely create the illusion of that need as a result of their appearance?
These same questions could be asked with equal importance about our friend Brochaps. Has the term Brochaps existed for countless millennia, laying all-to-silently dormant in the human experience, waiting only for its bearer of fate to appear in the existence of the world and don its title, and by doing so, answer the silent call of humanity? Or was it the day to day tediums of kitchen work: the lack of sunlight, the fumes of too many chopped onions with too little ventilation, the slow torture of sounds produced by the constance of mixing bowls and the ceaselessly droning convection of ovens, the countless hours spent standing on our feet, subjecting ourselves to the extremes of heat and cold that are produced when entering and leaving walk-in freezers? Could the slow torture of these daily events coupled with the perpetual threat of monotony and combined with the haphazard appearance of the One we call Brochaps actually have retrospectively created our need for a Brochaps?
The answer is: I don't know.
In other words, do the likes of Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne appear because we as human-beings need the help of these superheroes to secure our survival? Or do we merely create the illusion of that need as a result of their appearance?
These same questions could be asked with equal importance about our friend Brochaps. Has the term Brochaps existed for countless millennia, laying all-to-silently dormant in the human experience, waiting only for its bearer of fate to appear in the existence of the world and don its title, and by doing so, answer the silent call of humanity? Or was it the day to day tediums of kitchen work: the lack of sunlight, the fumes of too many chopped onions with too little ventilation, the slow torture of sounds produced by the constance of mixing bowls and the ceaselessly droning convection of ovens, the countless hours spent standing on our feet, subjecting ourselves to the extremes of heat and cold that are produced when entering and leaving walk-in freezers? Could the slow torture of these daily events coupled with the perpetual threat of monotony and combined with the haphazard appearance of the One we call Brochaps actually have retrospectively created our need for a Brochaps?
The answer is: I don't know.
12.1.08
7.1.08
The Verbology of Brochaps
For those of you who don't know, in a kitchen, the dishwasher shift-change is akin to the changing of the guards: a highly symbolic ceremony whose importance and necessity is all too often overlooked. Kitchens and societies alike rest on the shoulders of this rite and it is therefore absolutely necessary that this exchange be executed flawlessly.
Earlier this week, as one dish-tech* replaced another, something went awry. Emotions escalated, tensions mounted, and a series of suppressed rants left the mouth of the recently arrived dish-tech in the form of whispered curses and insults.
We suspect that the sabotage was deliberate and premeditated. When PM dish-tech replaced AM dish-tech, he found an excessive amount of unwashed sheet pans, hidden, dirty mixing bowls, an unclean, grimy sink area, overflowing garbage cans, and a backup of dirty silverware and dishes. In short, when PM dish-tech arrived, he was, what we in the business call, in the weeds.
As PM dish-tech cursed and crashed pots and pans around in the sink area with dramatic flourishes, the head pastry-chef turned to him and nonchalantly said, "You just got brochapped."
*Note: Dish-tech is short for dish-technician and is the technical, politically correct term used to describe practitioners of the dish washing arts.
Earlier this week, as one dish-tech* replaced another, something went awry. Emotions escalated, tensions mounted, and a series of suppressed rants left the mouth of the recently arrived dish-tech in the form of whispered curses and insults.
We suspect that the sabotage was deliberate and premeditated. When PM dish-tech replaced AM dish-tech, he found an excessive amount of unwashed sheet pans, hidden, dirty mixing bowls, an unclean, grimy sink area, overflowing garbage cans, and a backup of dirty silverware and dishes. In short, when PM dish-tech arrived, he was, what we in the business call, in the weeds.
As PM dish-tech cursed and crashed pots and pans around in the sink area with dramatic flourishes, the head pastry-chef turned to him and nonchalantly said, "You just got brochapped."
*Note: Dish-tech is short for dish-technician and is the technical, politically correct term used to describe practitioners of the dish washing arts.
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