Brandon Fazio – unfiltered

I was 19 years old, going to college at Kent State. While attending school I worked as a dishwasher at a small ma and pa place.

It had to be 100 degrees in the kitchen that day, Led Zeppelin blaring in the background, all the cooks dancing on the line effortlessly moving as one. The sauté cook was smoking a cigarette, ashes barely missing the sauté pans. It was absolute insanity.

Dinner rush starts, chef is needed to call tickets and expedite the food.

“Walking in! 3 ribeyes, 1 Alfredo, and 1 chicken piccata!”

Tickets are pouring in, the cooks are really in the groove now, except for the guy on the deep fryers. He’s got a look on his face like he is about to cry as the tickets start piling up at his station.

A plate crashes to the floor, and you hear the deep fryer cook scream “I can’t fucking do this anymore!” and storms out the back door.

The chef walks over to the dish pit, asks me and the other dishwashers if any of us would help him get through the shift. I thought, it kind of looks like fun, and it definitely has to be better than scrubbing all of these dishes.

Everything I was preparing was simple, French fries, fried Mozzarella sticks, onion rings, a few salads and spraying whipped cream on a few desserts. I found satisfaction, and the adrenaline you receive amidst the chaos is next to none.

I ended up falling in love. I dropped out of college, I was never a fan of school anyway from elementary school on up. I was always an outcast. In the kitchen though, I was with my own.