Gold’s Nest

I was spewing when I found out the market value on my squab.

Fair call we’re all in this game to make a buck, but $24 for a single pigeon was daylight robbery. Apparently $15 is what most cats are paying.

Best start sussing out another supplier of exoticly themed protiens next time I’m in the mood.

Fuck em though, I still love a challenge and I’m looking forward to hopefully pulling another gold plated rabbit out of a hat.

I had created a birds nest before, and what better way to present poultry than in a birds nest.

Middle eastern crumbed chicken, Duck and pork sausage roll with a vegetable farce stuffed squab. All plated with a rosti built and presented in a nest shapped fashion. Filled with pumpkin puree.

I threw on a few extra veggies and a boat of Jus lie.

Enough country grub with a dash of restaurant skill. If only I sold a few more.

I’m in a big time nesting mood after the birth of my first child so the nesting instinct is in over drive!

I’ve heard all the stories about how emotional and overwhelming this kind of thing is for one’s head space, and the stories were spot on.

Seeing and encouraging your partner to give birth is one of life’s great blessings, and one of life’s great miracles.

If you take away all the luxuries and creations that the human race has been responsible for, you’re left with three basic motivators in life.

Hunting, Mating and Feeding.

They’re our most primal instincts and what an adventure this has been so far.

I was suprised I wasn’t assaulted or abused during the 9 hour long process. Elise is a tough cookie, nothing like Kirsty Ally in those ‘Look Who’s Talking’ movies.

To say she was extremely assertive towards the end game is a huge understatement, but she did extremely well.

I struggle at the best of times when it comes to my own blood, let alone another person’s, and I’m glad I didn’t pass out in all honesty.

Before we went in I was all about getting them to stay the full 48 hours in hospital and she was keen to head home ASAP.

The tide had fully flipped once he showed his face at just past 7:00am on the 18th of May. I wanted to get home and get snug as fuck with the family, and she had upped the ante on hanging about.

Turned out to be a good thing, passing a child through anyone’s privates is a mammoth task, so ensuring my baby mumma is well looked after with the best care possible is paramount.

Observing and anticipating my child’s arrival is without doubt one of the most stressful scenarios I have ever been involved with I have to say.

You could docket drop 30 covers on 7 dockets in a 10 minute period and I can deal with that shit. I might get some docket block and some punters are maybe gonna wait a little, but I’ll pump my way through it some way or another.

This having a baby stuff is a different show altogether.

Will he be healthy? Will he be ok? What if he’s green? What if he has an extra leg? The possibilities of drama are endless.

One of the most prominent dilemmas I felt though, was can I be the father I know I can be whilst dealing with the day to day grind of being a head chef?

In the two months leading up to my son being born it honestly felt like everything that makes me good at being a head chef had been closed up and shut down.

From orders, creativity, speed and leading the crew to hopefully being one of the best country tucker destinations on the planet, most of it had been vapored away, at least the ability to juggle everything.

A big fucken blanket of anticipation that I couldn’t seem to lift.

Fair to say that the blanket was lifted though by the time I got to slip over next door to grub down an eggs benedict whilst enjoying the ambiance and aroma of Aromas Cafe. Plus a side of double hash browns.

I reckon the old couple next to me were wondering if used an invisible straw, I absolutely monstered it after pulling an all-nighter.

Fair to say to I shouldn’t have asked for an extra shot in my large latte though.

The lady working the coffee station was moving like a cheetah closing in a gazelle. She had game.

Most places in Launceston require a request for an extra shot when you upgrade your coffee size.

I like my coffee to taste like coffee, not warm milk. This bird had big city experience and I had mucked up in not trusting her coffee game.

I’ve always thrived when being under the pump, coupled with an intent to do well. The switch hadn’t been working for a while, the fuse box must’ve been tripped.

When you’ve got an intent for something, to do well or worse, whatever it may be, anyone can achieve anything they set out to do.

Getting Delta Goodrem or Rihanna to come back for some pillow talk is not really realistic, but for the most part, people can achieve anything, provided its within certain realistic expectations.

If you want to become a lawyer, go to university, want to be a doctor, train and study for it, want to be a good chef, work like hell and get around good chefs, there’s not much that’s out of reach in this world.

Being prepared to make mistakes is without doubt part of it, provided you know how to take them and surround yourself with the right people. Learn from it and move on quickly, service usually starts again in a few hours.

Performance is hard work when your hung up about that salad you forgot to dress last night that the customer decided to eat you soul over.

You made a mistake, work out why and get over it. Just don’t do it again, that’s what separates the average Joe from the Bill Gates of this world, so said my biggest idol, Anthony Bourdain.

Without mistakes, you generally don’t learn anything.

I’ll learn 10 times as much from negative feedback than what I would from positive stuff. Provided it’s relative and explanatory.

A bit of a pipe up is good when I’m a bit flat, but for the most part, to much arrogance in cookery is the most poisonous thing you can have in a kitchen.

Be confident about what you know and can achieve, but the moment you show up to your own party thinking you’ve already won, your fucked.

I have always been lucky enough to be able to have the freedom to create food, from my first serious crack at being an apprentice, right up until now. I’ve always been able to play, with obvious budget restrictions.

Through anything at me, in general I can make anything work ok together, maybe even blend some combinations that get my peers attention.

All of that though needs the right environment.

Chocolate and cherry nougat cake with cream pie. This dish is built from an old recipe I think I got from the Women’s weekly website and is entirely from little bits and peices from around my kitchen.

Built from what would mostly otherwise be thrown away. I first experianced doing this at Blue Cafe Bar as a 1st year apprentice in the mid 2000’s. Going to the shop everyday to see what I could get to make money, and hoping you didnt find big Stevie on the way, the other apprentice, curled up somewhere having a sleep in after a solid session on the gas.

Doing this efficiently relied on lots of things, its great revenue, and having a team around you that didnt want to eat your soul when something didnt work out was vital, always has been and is any successful environment.

Giving hope to others insurcurities whilst attempting self improvment was never part of the plan, but they’ve always been relevant.

Key is to never give those types the credence they disire, its not mine or anyone elses fault not everyone got the attention they felt and feel they deserved.

Life is pretty bloody tough for most punters, as long as you keep your circle full of people that will help you grow to your potential and help you accomplish your dreams, things will workout ok eventually.

All the good food I cook is built from learning from mistakes. Team Blue would never allow those types, that ran others down without offering anything except gibberish in return. A great combination of ‘what the fuck were you thinking’ and ‘come on, you’ve got this’.

Great restaurants I’ve been involved with always have this culture of self improvement.

Without doubt a second family when I was employed there. You would sit around most days off wondering what was happining there and wheather or not you were missed as much as you were missing them.

Great food is on the menu at the Nicol residence, and hopefully improving on my own upbringing will allow my son to have a much better crack at life than what I was afforded.

I never felt the outside pressure that is placed on the industry before I became a head chef.

If people want to talk smack about anything I had produced or served, my head chefs always had my back. If they didn’t, I could just go up the road to the next place.

I could and still can eat anybodys soul without saying a word. Its all on the plate. The gen pop tell me everything I need to know, and a few trusted colleagues.

Good work places are like a family, somewhere to escape all the bullshit thats going one in your life.

You get to work and switch of the outside world. Kitchens and restaurants as a whole are truely family when your in the right ones.

I loved rocking up to a shift, grinding out like a mad dog, and as long as I followed suite in what my head chef needed from me, it was all peaches and cream mixed with blood, sweat and tears.

You used to say all sorts of abusive things to your comrades during service times, its all about getting shit done as quickly as possible. Customers in the majority don’t care about my life presures, the bad break up, or my baby keeping me awake, there here for a show! And I’m paid to deliver one.

Fair to say young Henry has settled in nicely. Hes putting on weight and hes got no extra limbs.

Apart from mum not getting a great deal of sleep, it’s peaches and cream at the Nicol residence.

My pigeon didn’t end up selling as well as I had hoped, but I was pleased with the outcome.

After having 3 weeks of in the last 3 months I’m looking forward to continuing to create great Tassie tucker out in the country side.

The winter time holds a great challenge for all head chefs, as only the good places make it through the hibernation period.

It seperates the good ones from the great ones!

If we are able to survive without sending the bosses bankrupt over the next few months, Ill have put a large and proudly accepted feather in my cap.

If not, maybe Ill give this writing game a red hot crack.

Implementing my diploma of managment skills and training will be my side project whilst brewing a few winter warmers.

I wouldn’t have though it would be as hard as it has been to be able to implement structure over the last few years at numerous different establishments.

But I guess I’m not employed for my good looks and organisational skills.

Its all about the food!

Challenge graciously accepted, time to sort my miz en place.