All Michael Randolph needs right now is a pair of tweezers. The small implement is a far cry from the firepower the former Marine used to pack, but he needs them to put the shredded cabbage finish on his elegant canapé of duck foie gras on toasted brioche with Dijon vinaigrette.
“Can I borrow your tweezers real quick, like for four minutes?” Randolph, a student at the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, New York, asks a colleague across the way from his prep station.
Time is of the essence. A full slate of lunch reservations is about to fill the dining room and Randolph has only few minutes to get his creations to the front of the kitchen. They will be the first bite eager diners take before the start of their three-course meal.
“I never really thought I’d be using tweezers in the kitchen,” blurts out Randolph, borrowed tweezers now in hand, as he delicately sets the last few cabbage shreds on the nickel-sized starters. Eight years ago, The Bocuse Restaurant’s kitchen was probably the last place he thought he’d wind up.
Starbucks is the latest big company to announce an aggressive push to hire veterans returning to the civilian work force.
The Seattle-based coffee chain said on Wednesday that it will hire 10,000 veterans and military spouses over the next five years.
A visitor to the United Service Organizations building on the Bagram Airfield base in Afghanistan could easily mistake the place for a civilian home.
Brown leather couches beckon tired soldiers to sit back, relax and kick up their dusty boots. A wrap-around kitchen bar tempts hungry servicemen and women with lollipops, candy bars, chips and trail mix. Sports memorabilia and framed artwork cover the walls, and kitchen cabinets, stuffed to the brim with DVDs, add to the relaxed vibe.
But despite all the comfy trappings, soldiers serving abroad can still fall victim to homesickness. That’s where meals come in.
It’s the U.S. Army’s 237th anniversary, and what better way to celebrate than with food?
Admittedly, the military and gourmet chow don’t go hand in hand. Hard to imagine partygoers munching on MREs, hardtack and cream chipped beef on toast (known to some as “#$%@ on a shingle”).
For most veterans of the Korean War, "SOS" has nothing to do with saving a ship.
I've heard the stories from my grandparents about eating "S*** On a Shingle" during their military service. I don't recall whether my Grandma Mouton, an Air Force veteran, ever made it for me as a kid. If she did, I've blocked it out with fond memories of snickerdoodles, fried egg sandwiches, and late-night french toast.
I don't think my Grandpa Mouton can do the same. As a Korean War Army vet, SOS probably haunts him in his dreams.