This is no joke.......
In all seriousness I have been attacked by an inanimate object that has most likely scarred me for life. The attack was startling and gruesome and overall I am just glad that I was able to get it to stop bleeding. Actually I am fine, but I was pretty irritated with the fact that I got bitten by the saran wrap cutter. I guess I will just add it to the rest of my kitchen battle wounds.
"You are a chef, aren't you?"
I have had this question laid upon me quite a few times in the past year. At first this used to surprise me because the people who are asking this question initially have no idea that is exactly what I am. When people make this distinction it usually requires that I am wearing a short sleeved shirt. Apparently anybody who is familiar with the kitchen trade is also familiar with the fact that you can "Sherlock Holmes" a distinctive physical clue for recognizing if someone is a chef.
Just look at our arms!
All these burn wounds from hot sheet pans, searing stove top misfortune, blistering oven mishaps, and accidental damages from my own chef's knife add up to an interesting new way for the world to identify me. My arms are marked with blemishes of all sizes, shapes and even colors depending on what degree of burn or depth of incision I have applied unintentionally. Personally I don't mind that my arms are no longer available for QVC Bracelet Jewelry Hour. Instead of tattoos, I have the shadows of injuries. It makes me feel tough! :)
The safer alternative- a slider!
Purposefully I hope that I can lower or diminish the number of casualties to myself. Between learning my new home kitchen, the school kitchens, and my work kitchens I should be able to maneuver a little bit safer over the next year. My fingerprints conversely are gone for good. The necessity of handling all things sizzling and scorching hot has eliminated that form of ID. I think I have accepted it. The experience I get every single day working in the kitchen, doing what I love, makes it all worth it!