Sunday, January 3, 2010
Here we go again...
So, it has been suggested to me many times that I should start a blog. Even if no one ever reads it, what an excellent way to 1. document my oh-so-thrilling existance 2. waste time at work!
Let's start with a breif intro. I am a 26 year old Melbournian, I work in a bayside office and live in a really cute flat. I have a cat, two fish and a husband whom I adore.
Said husband is a chef. In fact Husband is one of the best chefs going round. Truthfully, that's not just wife-speak!
For the past few years Husband has been a fixture at some of Melbourne's (and one of London's) top restaurants. We travelled to London in 2006 for the sole purpose of furthering his career. For a year my darling boy experienced extremely long work hours, weight loss and verbal abuse that makes Gordon Ramsey look like a pussy cat, while I worked a nine to fiver and spent time with a few of the most fabulous friends a girl could hope to find on the other side of the world...oh, and we NEVER saw each other.
London was at the extreme end of the hospitality relationship spectrum. Husband was out the door at 6am and home on the last tube. Since we have been home things have been slightly more relaxed, but slightly less stable. Within a week of arriving back in Melbourne Husband landed a job at what was one of Melbourne's most exciting restaurants, however after a year of back and forthing with new owners and a move into the CBD that never happened, the delightful and innovative eatery closed its doors and the young staff went their separate ways. Seemingly the timing was perfect as one of Husband's London collegues arrived back in Melbourne at that time. Together this talented team took over the kitchen at a flailing inner city restaurant and turned the menu into something special...but once again it was a constant battle with new owners and after a year the chefs moved on to bigger and better things.
So that brings us to late last year. Husband was hired to replace the sous chef at a busy little spot near our home. Within a month the head chef resigned and Husband was faced with a dilemma. Whilst the owners wanted him to replace the head chef they wanted to take the menu in a direction that did not suit him. Things were looking annoyingly up in the air until the phone rang and we heard those fateful words..."hello, this is your dream job calling"!
As of this week my dearest takes over the position of head chef at a Melbourne institution and whilst I could not be prouder (this gushing blog is proof of that) this does mean we are back to the unbearabley long hours.
A day off in common does mean we can retain something resembling a normal relationship, not to mention fodder for this blog when he updates me on all the goss!
In the meantime I hope that other ladies and gents who work a nine to five job while their partners slave away over the hot stoves can relate to these rants, at least I've passed a quick hour in the office!