Kitchen confidential

In the last week I have almost conquered one of my biggest fears. That fear is restaurant work. In my mind, working in a kitchen is hardcore, and I don't fit in. I'm either eaten alive by a big scary chef, or sworn at until I run away, cry, or both. I also have hot oil thrown at me, and I'm tricked into picking up a pan straight from the oven with my bare hands while all the other chefs laugh. These all come from stories I've been told, and I'm not made for things like that.

But, 3 days in, all I can say is that I have survived so far, and enjoyed most of it. It's a really nice, busy French bistro, and I hope they don't make any of my nightmares come true! Highlights include opening my first oysters today, then going back to open more, picking up someone else's knife, and snapping it. Oops. The chef/owner told me to stick it in the bin quickly before whoever the knife belonged to realised what I'd done!

I also spent about 3 hours last week filling snail shells with parsley butter, then a squidgy black snail, and more parsley butter. I'm not in a hurry to try them although they do look quite good once they've come out the oven, with melted butter and herbs bubbling over the shells. And my revelation is that the shells go through the dishwasher after they've been used, and the snails come in a tin. Who'd have thought?!!!

Another eye opener was the veal brains delivery. It was so bizarre, they looked like brains, they are brains, and they were then cooked and eaten by people knowingly choosing to eat brains. And then I overheard the head chef asking someone to get rid of the haemorrhages on them. Oh dear...

Other than that I've chopped parsley until my hand almost fell off, have cut up my body weight in Roquefort, and have started plating meals that are sent out straight to the customer. Now that's exciting!