As I surf the crest of my mid-life Tsunami I can’t help but wonder what else is lurking around the corner. One year older and and new year on the only a couple of sunrises away. What imagined dreams are whispering to me from the distant plains......YEP, that’s it.... FRY COOK. My dear departed Mother already has the words, “mercy Larrrrry”, out of her mouth before I could hit the all caps. Fry Cook? The truth is I have always been completely fascinated by the men in white slinging and slapping and throwing food out on the grill or flipping skillets full of eggs or omelets around all over the place. “chef needa sunny and cher in the sack with a blanket”, has always made me tingle. That is eggs over easy with a greasy piece of bacon on toast with some gravey! Really just ask the fry guy at Jimmy’s tuck and truck in West Virginia. There is something about keeping all that going and listening to the sizzle that makes me wonder if Waffle House is hiring. Not just any waffle house but the one on the highway just outside of Covington Louisiana about 3 am. I mean you get to see some true characters when you get that shift. Or how about doing the morning shift at Camelias in the Quarter in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. Oh what a ride. How do they do it? The last few days I have gotten up early and done my own version of “chef” in my miniature kitchen in Terlingua. “A double cluck pie, skinny with a row and flat pig”. I have to say I think I’m getting it down. A prize to the winner of the translation of that one. Credit to Chef Mike, in Waffle House #453, Trinidad, Colorado. So, it’s a new year and I even own a food trailer so maybe...just maybe....
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