Rough Chopping and Johnny Cash.

I should be working on sleeping because tomorrow will be a long day but I need to write this while it's fresh in my mind.
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I took a short nap today and in my sleepy-waking up fogginess I laid on the couch wondering what life was all about, and why I couldn't just sleep all day.
I'm not sure I've obtained the answers. But I did learn a lot tonight. 4th Street Deli opens tomorrow and I will be there. Behind the counters. Doing who the hell knows what, and I'm nervited. [nervous+excited] Tonight, we prepped. O, the joys of prepping! Perhaps influenced by the book I'm currently reading Take This Bread by Sara Miles, but working in a kitchen is sublime.
I rough copped.
I made shrimp salad with a handful of celery, and onion. A sprinkle of this. A glob of that. Mixed it with my gloved hand to the lyrics of Queen's Fat Bottomed Girls.
The kitchen smelled like oregano, chicken, mayo, cilantro and hot soapy water.
And the earthy, musty smell of sweat. Which, I actually really enjoyed. Reminiscent of the summer perhaps, but honestly pleasant for whatever odd reason.
I made cilantro, lemon pesto and tomato garlic vinaigarettes. One part white balsamic, three parts oil. Watching for a slow drip off your gloved finger. Constantly blending.
I wrapped jalapeno, wheat and tomato bollos.
I de-stemmed parsley with Johnny Cash.
Yellow cutting boards for chicken, blue for cooked meat.
Always sanitize to prevent cross-contamination.
Watch out for the back splash at the dish washing sink, don't use the XL gloves and tie up the neck of your apron to save your shirt.
O, and the purple handled wisk is the spongy one.

It was glorious. My feet slipping and sliding on the floor, clumsily dancing with the others in the kitchen. A hive full of activity, smells and tastes. Colors and textures. I can't wait to prep again.