The Jazz Kitchen Horror

So, I'm still talking about Peru. One of the event's venues was a club called the Jazz Zone. I was going to order a snack at the Jazz Zone one night late, but Amy vehemently objected. The previous night, she said, she'd seen hideous things happening in the kitchen.

What do you mean? I asked, turning away from the musicians to concentrate.

Amy pointed out where the food came out of the kitchen via a 12" slot in the door -- the door was split in two, in other words. Visible from where she was sitting was a narrow glimpse into the kitchen. You couldn't see the counter, or the face of the cook, unless he bent over.

The walls were a pale, peeling green, and the view was of the preparation station where the food was assembled and spruced up before the waiters took it.

Amy said that she had seen the chef pick up a bowl of dip or sauce or spread, dip his finger in it, and then lick his finger to taste-test it. Apparently it passed, because he then poured it on the food. No, he wasn't wearing gloves. Yes, he did this more than once that night.

Amy went on to describe how this chef often made sure that lids would not drip when he removed them -- that's right, he'd lick the drips off it. He'd also occasionally snack on the food he was serving, taking a cheese cube or stick of vegetables from a plate as he handed the rest out the window.

Needless to say, i stuck to pisco sours after that -- at the very least, the alcohol would kill off any lip germs that might have been picked up during preparation.

Comments