draw-er reader music-er knitter nature-er sleeper cook-er

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everyone is inherently valuable--that means you

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i'm a little goblin
enjoying the little things in life


esoterictriangle
@esoterictriangle

"Every hardcore dish-doer, Kristen pointed out, has their own special technique. There is no one way, just as there is no one way to clean a house or make a soup. But peeking into someone’s cleaning routine holds all the greedy pleasure of peeking into a lit-up living room at night."

I used to be a professional dishwasher at a college dining hall. (I was also a shift lead/head cook at the same hall; a weird and wonderful time.) I could then (and, honestly, I wager I still could, despite me being a decade plus older) run laps around anyone else washing dishes; where two would wash while one managed drying & putting away, I could force two to be frantically finding new and creative ways to stack dishes to keep the output counter of the track-style commercial washing machine clear. My machine like efficiency was rooted in solid technique, careful water use, an aggressive use of a scraping tool, and a ferocious amount of energy (ok, maybe I couldn't keep up with me then).

It feels impolite to brag about just how powerful a washer I am, but I've been thinking about it a lot recently for some reason: I can wash for a hundred people within a shockingly short amount of time. Some of what I've learned is basically only helpful when you have a three section sink, a stainless steel counter as big as most kitchens, a powerful spray wand hanging over The Mouth of a terrifyingly powerful garbage disposal, and a rack-shunting commercial washing machine running somewhere close to 200° F, but a lot of it holds true wherever I wash.

  1. scrape. Scrape everything. Scrubbing means you're sanding down from the top; scraping pops the whole chunk of gunk in one fell swoop. My favorite tools at home are a bamboo wooden spatulaspoon and a bench knife (both forms: the rigid metal kind and the plastic bowl scraper kind); the Kitchen was basically 100% aluminum cookware so I went to town with a putty knife

  2. you only need a sprinkling of water to soak something. This is especially true for plates/bowls: lightly spray/rinse and then stack. You don't need to fill each vessel with water & your goal is rehydrating so it'll come off easy with a later rinse and/or scrape.

  3. a hot pot is a easy pot. I like to cook curries and stews and stirfries and other one-pot type meals, and I always pull the leftovers out while everything is still warm so I can clean it asap. In the Kitchen, we'd always shout a warning when we dropped a hot pan onto the dishpile, and I always took that as a invitation--as soon as it was barely cool enough to handle I had it in hand for a scraping (I had awesome calluses back then 🥲). A rinse is so much more effective while the food is warm, a scrape far more likely to lift everything in one judicious push.

I've been missing the flow of a kitchen recently. The heat and steam, the cycle of food, the satisfaction of winning a moment of respite in a seemingly constant flow of dishes. It's terrible on the body, and the pay:labor ratio is atrocious. But. There's a joy there I have yet to find anywhere else. If UBI was a thing, and we weren't stuck in a seemingly endless cycle of exploitation of our best workers, I would go back.


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in reply to @things-to-read's post:

A longer-ago co-worker, a brilliant home cook, had an almost-militant dinner party cleaning strategy. She hosted lavish feasts—this phrase is not an exaggeration—in her studio apartment, and would not let a single guest do the dishes, not even her best and oldest and most generous friends. Tiny apartments without Maytags require specific dish-cleaning strategies, and this one was no different: There were a few inches of counter space, if I remember correctly, and a butcher block. When everyone left, tramping wine-soaked down narrow flights of stairs, she would put on a specific recording—a cassette tape of the Cure, I think?—and blast it while doing dishes to her personal specifications, lining everything up just so.

I admired this not just because of the competence it communicated, but because it was a reflection of one cook’s finely honed tastes. Not only did she believe in always buying the nice butter or architecting obscurely themed meals, but she knew exactly how she liked to do the dishes. I had always wanted to become a person with such strong convictions and such clean plates.

I love this person

in reply to @esoterictriangle's post:

last time i was at a hacker festival (MCH2022) i volunteered for a dishwashing shift at the cafeteria (there were food stalls run by outside companies for attendees but they always feed the volunteers themselves; it helps a lot with getting people on board).

i ended up drying dishes after the dinner rush; it was fun but exhausting lol

i would also describe myself as (having been) a dishwashing ace lol. you're right about the ferocious amount of energy! the routine got so baked into me that now, years later, it's actually kind of a handicap to my ability to do my own dishes (or rather, to get myself to do the dishes) in my small apartment sink with a terrible faucet and minimal counter space -- without efficient tools the task feels far more imposing, even though it's orders of magnitude fewer dishes! luckily my therapist just went on maternity leave...

yes!!! The lack of tools is Very Real. I think part of what has gotten me on Thinking About Dishes again is the fact that over the last year or so we've been upgrading the kitchen--handles on drawers, a new faucet (a tall gooseneck that extends as the sprayer!), and (possibly the most important??) LED strips directly over the sink. Having OK tools and environment makes a huge difference, even if I can't have Perfect Lighting and Stainless Steel Everything and Super Tools

garbage disposals,,,
I sometimes forget we don't have one, and then I find I have to get rid of something soupy but definitely not sinkable either so I dump it down the toilet 🤷🤷🤷 Oh to Crunch and Cronch

Our undercabinet lighting kit turned out to be surprisingly "you could put this in temporarily if you were ok with some of the wires being semi-visible"; you could mount it all with 3M strips (or,,, just use screws; what LL is going to inspect the undersides of cabinets for screw holes) and it had a in-line switch option along with its wired-to-a-light-switch option. I 1000% recommend putting one in and taking it with you if you move!