I’m finally starting the Chef’s Blog, a long-postponed chore. My work here in ZEAVOLA differs from my expectations when accepting the quickly offered contract to work in Thailand. My curiosity and excitement about an adventure (at my age), mixed with a lifelong passion for “beach-living” diving and anything to do with water, have helped me convince myself to take on this journey. The south of Thailand offers incredible beauty, charm, and original traditions, and my fondness for Thai cuisine, combined with the positive experience I gained while training the kitchen staff of Hotel LAYANA last December/January in Kho Lanta, finalized this gutsy decision to move to Asia. Here I am, Trapped on an Island without streets or cars. A culture shock for someone like me, having lived most of his adult life in major cities worldwide. Not possessing a vehicle constricts my number one urge for freedom. I have to buy a boat and be unbound. Within the first six weeks since starting my position, I came to realize the pitiful habits of city living that are no longer available. No more “food around the corner” and the abandoned comfort of having family and friends available at any moment, who now sleep when I work and vice versa. I am adding to it this “Robinson Crusoe” excluded living without my “Freitag”… Nice play of words! Seriously, I have not had a day off from duty since I stepped onto the coral shore before this Hotel. And then I miss all the stupid little things that make me laugh when zipping through my mind: Chocolate in my bedroom, Peet’s Coffee around the block, CNN all day long, laundry machine (I am requested to wash my undies by hand…), Cybersex, my weekly maid (I still have one, only she cleans a hopefully clean place in Los Angeles), my arsenal of cookbooks, my own space… I live in one of the guest pavilions, and it is strange and foreign to my taste – the list is bothersome and lengthy. I refuse to get used to the mosquitoes biting me whenever I step into the bathroom, and I dislike the bugs of which some of my staff eats deep-fried with joyful smiles, the snakes on my terrace, and the sea urchins; I stepped on them twice already. Some of the locals offered to piss on my swollen feet, but I kindly declined.
The Hotel is still somewhat under construction but is up and running as well as possible. My kitchen staff is beyond friendly; by now, I have an idea about their character and motivations. It will become easier with each Thai word I am learning to express and understand instructions and inputs clearly. Unlike in a classroom of the CIA (Culinary Institute of America) or any culinary school I have taught students, I am now surrounded by staff members who inhale every professional gesture of mine and are eager to learn their craft. If only it wouldn’t be for HR, I could fully enjoy my work. We seriously lack staff in my department, and the paper trails are bothersome, and the wording is laughably odd. Most writings in this facility need correct spelling. HR… Mhhh, I struggle to find kind words to explain the inefficiency of her managing the most crucial department of any hotel. She is by far the most unpleasant personality amongst the entire staff. It is challenging for a kitchen chef to deal with her unwillingness to adapt inputs and changes while upholding her own dictated regulations. She should respect the rules created by her department in an exemplary manner. She would be a perfect candidate for the reality TV show “How to Manage a Hotel without HR” – she is rather complex, a fascinating character! Her efforts to make my life uncomfortable are successful, and I have very little respect for her childish games, which waste my time and energy. HR must change her attitude towards me fast, or I will not work here. Today, we’re receiving products and produce. A ship arrives from Phuket every Monday and Thursday and brings us the ordered groceries. The boat is a traditional Thai construction, painted in blue and yellow, and the crew is quite rural. One of the characters is shockingly disfigured in the face, teeth growing from his nose, and the facial bone structure is warped: Hard to look at him.
I had to get used to it; he is incredibly friendly and funny. Learning Thai from him is impossible, but he seemingly is amused by my interest in speaking the native tone. I need help understanding what he utters (try talking in your mother language without upper lip). So, for duty calls, I will go out there and help unload bamboo and cement bags, construction materials, food, and housekeeping materials. Living here on Phi Phi is hard labor. I will place recipes and respond to all e-mails I receive. Please tell your friends about my site and what you expect from my blog.