Today, one of my pastry chef’s friends dropped by with a gift.
Inside nestled in tin foil was a flame-licked chicken sitting in its juices. And a container of roasted potatoes.
Chef tore off a drumstick for himself and motioned towards the rest of the chicken. He told us simply, “Enjoy.”
When he left, my sous chef wasted no time. She tossed a box of latex gloves on the counter. We each grabbed a pair and hovered over this chicken.
We eyed it for a minute with hungry pastry cook eyes- it’s hard being surrounded by just pastries all day and no savoury food.
Within moments, the bird was in shreds. No forks, no knives, no plates, no napkins. No need.
After a few minutes of shameless chicken feasting, we tossed the gloves in the garbage and went back to pastry making.
The chicken had given us the energy we needed to power through the rest of the day.
Our bellies were full and our hearts content.
I’ll never forget the story.
About the time when I worked at a 3***Michelin restaurant in Hong Kong and my hungry co-workers and I tore at a roasted French chicken with our bare hands.
avec chantilly 