After the shift.

There is no comparable feeling to the moment when the extraction fan is turned off.

After a full day of working away and blending out the continuous noise, the peaceful silence which enters after the fan is shut down can only be described as utter bliss. Suddenly it seems impossible to imagine how you could not have noticed the loud hum booming in your ears all day. But now it is quiet and calm.

The day is done.

Alongside the other chefs, I shuffle downstairs to the changing room. The room is ripe with the smell of people sweating away in hot, smoky, and steamy environments for hours on end and we find our belongings among the cooks’ clogs, aprons, and torchons scattered around. I slip out of my own clogs which have weathered water, occasional oil and sauce splatters, dustings of flour, and even the stray piece of hot coal today. I put on my trainers and slip my jacket over my arms which are adorned with a few bruises, burn marks, and - from the past hour or so of cleaning – a light, patchy coating of grease and coal dust. As I walk back up the stairs, I pull out my hair tie and make a feeble attempt at getting my hair back into a more normal shape; after a long day of having it tightly tied back, my hair now struggles to remember its natural form.

Before stepping outside, I do a quick final check of my belongings. Keys, phone, yes. The sharpie in my pocket may not be the same one I brought with me this morning; it has likely changed hands multiple times. My knives are safely rolled up and back in my bag. I give the others a quick wave, “Thanks for today guys, see you tomorrow!”, push open the door, and step outside.

The cold dark air comes as a welcoming blessing. I take a few deep inhales, smelling the cool, wet streets, wafts of cigarette smoke and spilled beers. There is a light drizzle accompanying me on my way back, refreshing after the smoky interiors of the restaurant. I tuck my chin into the collar of my jacket as I march on decisively through the dark streets, avoiding eye contact and aiming to make it back quickly. As I step inside the lift taking me up to my flat, I catch my reflection in the mirrored wall. My cheeks and nose are reddened from the cold outside, and my hair is slowly settling back into its normal state.

I get home, throw my clothes onto the laundry pile, and get straight into the shower to wash off the day’s work. Having picked and sliced several handfuls of chilies that day, I make sure to give my hands an extra thorough clean, so as not to give myself a spicy surprise.

Finally, I throw myself onto the bed, the first time I’m taking the weight off my feet in several hours. I’m tired, but I feel good. Another day completed without any major catastrophes.

Nice.

Could have done more prep admittedly, but the service was good, with a steady and controlled flow of checks. Had a good time with the team, bouncing off each other with silly jokes. And there was that customer with a death wish who had the cocky audacity to ask for his dish to be extra spicy. After seeing each chef go up to the pan to personally add an extra spoonful of chili paste and sliced chilies, I doubt that person will be able to walk tomorrow. I chuckle as I finish doing some hip and back stretches.  

I check my phone. Just past 1 am. I’ll have a good lie in tomorrow and eat a nice, comforting meal before going back in for my PM shift. My eyelids are starting to feel heavy. I lean across the bed to turn off the light and tuck myself in, the feeling of exhaustion setting in. And then the day after tomorrow I’ll be off. Gonna try out that pastry place near me. That’ll be nice.

My thoughts slow down and veer off into absurdity. Within minutes I’m fast asleep.