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Critic-Turned-Cook Finds the Kitchen Can Be A Major Pain

Posted by Leslie Kelly, October 15, 2009 at 2:30 PM

[Photograph: Leslie Kelly]

If you were standing next to me earlier this week, you might have wondered, "What stinks?"

It wasn't onions or garlic, day-old fish, or durian—it was the spicy scent of Tiger Balm (like Ben-Gay on steroids).

While I was rushing out the door Monday morning on my way to my job as cook's assistant at Alpha Sigma Phi frat house at the University of Washington, I wrenched my back. It's an old injury and, frankly, I'm shocked it hasn't flared up sooner with all the bending down and heavy lifting I've been doing on this culinary journey from the keyboard to the kitchen.

As any seasoned pro can attest, cooking can be mighty treacherous. If there's ever a lull in the conversation when you're in the back of the house, ask a cook and they'll show you the battle scars. I've heard plenty of horror stories about twisted limbs and sliced flesh. One guy I met went to the ER with a serious burn, but came back to try and finish his shift. (He was sent home to dull the pain with meds.)

So far, I've been lucky. Besides some minor nicks and burns and the occasional bonking my head in a cramped pantry, I've managed to avoid injury. (Not so on the critic front. I broke my foot a couple of years ago after paying the tab at a restaurant I was reviewing. No, I don't think the chef intentionally tripped me up. And, no, I wasn't drunk.)

When my back acts up, I typically throw myself on the bed sobbing, gobble Ibuprofen like candy and alternate between ice packs, the heating pad and bouts of despair. But a friend turned me onto this book called End Back Pain Now that basically said: If you can keep moving, the pain will go away more quickly. In other words, man up and get on with your day. Of course, that's not going to work for everybody, but I decided to try and power through the spasms, and do it with a smile on my face.

The first day was a challenge. I groaned out loud while hoisting bins of flour and sugar, wrestling with the food processor, slinging pots in the dish pit. But I didn't complain; I kept moving. By Day Three, when I was assembling the ingredients for meatballs, it hit me: I was feeling just fine.

That's what so many cooks have to do, isn't it? When you feel bad, you just gut it out and work through it. Cooking while you're hurting might seem like a marathon that never ends. Well, until the end of the shift and then there's the chance to put your feet up, have a shot of Pappy Van Winkle and slather on the Tiger Balm.

About the author: Former Seattle Post-Intelligencer restaurant critic Leslie Kelly has been working in professional kitchens since the newspaper folded in March and chronicling her culinary journey from pen to pan for Serious Eats. She also blogs at LeslieKellyWhiningandDining.blogspot.com and recently launched a story-telling project for Northstar Winery following one wine from the vine to the table.

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Tags: Critic-Turned-Cook