Our guest blog­ger today is Andrew Vernon. He is a mechan­i­cal engi­neer who is liv­ing in the mid­dle of a remote Australian rain­for­est doing dishes to afford beer and meat pies. Warning: there is some foul lan­guage, not suit­able for kids.

Andy’s Guide to Being a Dishy (aka; dishpig)

Amongst the toil and froth of every restau­rant, amongst the chaos and noise of a kitchen get­ting slammed, there will always be the dishy. While the wait staff are the smil­ing, happy faces of the busi­ness, the chefs the heroes of leg­end, the dishy is the unsung cog in the machine, pound­ing out the dirty work so that the rest of the show can go off with­out a hitch. The dishy is the one who makes sure your garbage is always empty, your shelves full of shiny dishes, your work­places clean and organized.

Somebody must carry the bur­den of the grunt sol­dier, and that is the duty and hon­our of the dishy.

Is it a job that reaps heaps of praise and glory? No, but that is not the way of the dishy. Being a dishy is a role of hon­our and pride. The sat­is­fac­tion of watch­ing the cir­cus that is the restau­rant busi­ness play out in a seam­less man­ner and know­ing that it plays out the way it should because of the team­work of all involved is sat­is­fac­tion enough.

Tools

Boardies – To wear any­thing other than board­ies is sheer folly. Either that or a lack of com­mit­ment. When doing dishes in a fast paced set­ting, you are going to get wet. The job deals with water 80% of the time, so you can guar­an­tee you’re going to be soaked by the end of your shift. If you aren’t drenched, you’re going too slowly and tak­ing your time, for which you should be shot.

Tea Towel – While the days of dry­ing dishes in the kitchen is nearly over, the tea towel is still one of the most impor­tant tools in your arse­nal. Even though the dishes have been pounded through the 1,000,000°C indus­trial con­veyor belt dish­washer, some food is far more tena­cious that it is given due. Granola is a mother fucker. Upon final inspec­tion of the dishes as they emerge from the steam belch­ing mon­stros­ity, some lit­tle piece of food will try to be rein­tro­duced to cus­tomers, and the tea towel will evict the unwanted food with the quickness.

Bucket and scrub­bers – This is the bor­der guard of the dish­washer. Pots and pans always need to be fleeced down before gain­ing access the dish­washer, or they will come out the other side with bits of burnt meat still baked on, result­ing in a sec­ond run through. Unacceptable and inef­fi­cient. A bbucket of soapy water with a sponge and more impor­tantly some steel scrub­bies allows you to prep for wash. These are also needed for VIP dishes that need to be done faster that the washer will do. More on that later.

Scraper – There are times when shit gets burnt. I’m talk­ing apocalypse-style-scorched-earth burnt. You will blow an elbow if you try to attack one of these trav­es­ties with a scrub­bie. This is where the 3” putty knife com­monly found in your local paint stores comes in handy.

With a deft hand, one can dis­patch ¼” thick burnt spinach cream risotto in no time.

Tongs – The chef is get­ting smashed. They are pump­ing out pans and pizza trays like bul­lets from a chain fed machine gun, and you are the one respon­si­ble for keep­ing them stocked. There is no time to wait for those pans to cool off, and to pick one up is to achieve 154th degree burns. Tongs are like robotic hands that feel no pain, can­not be cut or burnt. With the proper tong train­ing reg­i­ment, you can wield pans like a light sabres. It’s like being Luke Skywalker in Return of the Jedi.

Hands – Spooning the left over mash out of a big tray is going to take for­ever. Get your hands in there and get it done.

The Job

A dishy must work with an orga­nized and active mind. If you want to get out early enough to catch a beer or two at the pub, you need to man­age your time and keep track of your pace.

As the dishes come in, get them orga­nized into the proper piles so like dishes are together. If you are pan­ick­ing and throw­ing through trays of mixed dishes, you will be run­ning around on the other end like a chicken that has recently had its head removed. Organize your shit.

Manage your dish load. If you are in the mid­dle of ser­vice and you have one or two of each dish, let them build. Your time is bet­ter spent on other things that you would oth­er­wise have to do later.

VIP dishes must be done. There are always the hot items that there aren’t enough of. Chop boards, ramikans (sp), oval plates and sauce pans. If any of these items show up beside the chef, you get it done and sweep it through VIP style with a quick scrub wash and return to its right­ful place .

The world of the dishy isn’t for everyone.

The faint of heart need not apply.

If you can’t see your­self hos­ing down your legs with a fire hose on the dock after a garbage bag of sludge explodes all over you, this isn’t the job for you. If you can’t fathom your­self com­ing home soaked and stank­ing of a thou­sand soggy meals, this isn’t the job for you.

But if you can, ahhhh, my respects.