I assume one becomes a chef because they have a love for cooking and food and the artistry involved, but I can’t think of anything more eroding to that love of the craft than the kind of working day I see chefs and other kitchen staff go through. It seems to an outsider like me that it’s basically a shift-length panic attack, every day. But that can’t be the case, or no one would do the job!
It is, but it’s the functional kind. And the landlord doesn’t give a fuck about your problems so you got turn life’s lemons into lemon pepper chicken to pay that rent.