Tattoo

Part of fear and loathing in Amsterdam is tattoos. I’ve always thought that cooks are pirates, I love the cooks that are grinders, covered in tattoos. If cooks weren’t pirates I don’t think I would have stayed in this business, I love the idea of doing whatever it takes to make it happen during prep and service, it’s just so fun.
“Where’d you get all that Valrhona for the catering?”
“Bud I need some large vac pac bags stat!!”
” I’ll be right back, don’t ask, don’t tell.”
So we went down to Hanky Panky’s in the red light district, a famous tattoo parlor owned by the angels. Kyle has begun to realize the full extent of his dutch heritage. When his mom was in Holland with family she went to Hanky Panky’s and got a tattoo of a tulip, the dutch flower. It struck Kyle that with every generation his dutch blood and heritage is fading, and unless he does somthing to change that it will wither and disappear. For his tattoo he decided to get a tulip, but one that is just beginning to turn black, wilt and drop it’s petals.

Don’t worry mommy, no tattoos for Crust. I want to stay pretty and pure like a baby.