No Reservations Crew blog

ANOTHER DAY AT THE OFFICE

January 29, 2008, 6:50 PM  |  Comments (4,322)  |  Permalink

By Producer, Tom Vitale

A few months ago when the first cold front hit New York, I was contentedly sunning on a beach in Greece.  I\’ll admit it, I have a great job.  Whenever the topic comes up with new friends or acquaintances, without fail the first question asked is \”Do you need an assistant?\” The next is invariably \”Do you have to eat all the gross stuff that Tony does?\”

Contrary to popular belief the vast majority of the food we encounter is far from bizarre, it\’s delicious. Still it\’s true; occasionally I\’m forced to eat something I find kind of nasty, like that steamed shark\’s head in Singapore.  In the interest of not offending our proud and generous hosts, the crew knows when faced with this situation, to smile and politely choke it down. Not such a big deal. Refusing, as Tony says, would be to \”bring shame upon the clan.\”
Everyone makes mistakes.  One of my particularly memorable missteps was on the aforementioned shoot on the Greek island of Crete.  I\’d arranged a sheep slaughter and alfresco roast with a rough and tumble group of shepherds high in the mountains outside the village of Anoyia.  Just another day at the office.  In these admittedly uncomfortable situations I try to comfort myself with the knowledge that it\’s a part of life and whatever animal we are offing is treated with infinitely more respect than factory farmed livestock.  But this time it wasn\’t just the lamb to the slaughter …

The evening before, we had filmed a raki making/drinking scene.  For those of you not in the know, raki is a supercharged moonshine distilled from the fermented by products of the winemaking process.  Suffice to say it is powerful stuff.  As the hours passed the crew and I all drank shot after shot of this stuff at an ever-accelerating rate.  To decline would be an insult.  Our polite protests of \”we\’re working\” and \”o.k. just a little!\” were, by the end of the evening, no more than slurred utterances of thanks.  You can see Todd and me \’taking one for the team\’ after the first commercial break.

greekislands_crew.pngBut I digress…the point is, the next day as we twisted and turned up a near vertical incline of switchbacks heading toward our mountain top sheep killing scene…I wasn\’t feeling my best.  First thing to greet us upon arrival was a darling little lamb.  Meekly blinking and tied to the bed of a pickup, I was struck by how much it reminded me of a beloved stuffed animal from childhood.  I was starting to get the message this was going to be one of those days.

There I was in a dusty and barren landscape, suffering a blistering hangover with the hot noonday sun beating down on my aching head.  I\’m really, really thirsty.  And can you guess what Greek shepherds drink when they need to quench their thirst?  Yes, it\’s the ubiquitous raki.  Oh please no.  It\’s now fully clear Greek drinking practices are an occupational hazard I would have to deal with.  Five shots later and I\’m in a nauseated daze wondering if people here are just celebrating the unusual event of a visit from an American TV crew, or if we\’re stranded on an island of serious alcoholics.

I\’m trying to do my job, trying to stay in control of the situation.  But spurred by the fear of further imbibing I seize the opportunity to escape.  Stumbling away I come face to face with our lunch-to-be which Tony has affectionately named \’Socks.\’  Out of the pot and into the fire I go as the poor little thing keeps staring up at me with a desperately pleading look on her face.  Before I can find a nice rock to crawl under, it\’s time to say goodbye to our cute little friend.  I\’m going to spare you the gory details of Socks\’ end, most of which I missed while hiding in the bushes. A place I probably would have remained if not frightened by a snake.

That, however, is not the end of the story.  Socks was quartered and skewered for roasting on the fire. His organs removed and placed in a plastic grocery bag after several choice pieces were fished out.  One of which, the intestine, is the fattiest and most prized part of the animal.  It requires minimal preparation, just a quick rinse before being stuffed with diced spleen and thrown on the fire.  Note to self: skip the spleen course today.  I\’ll just make sure to blend into the background, maybe go for a walk when it\’s ready to be served.

Unfortunately, my plans of \’disappearing\’ at the moment of truth are dashed by a hail of bullets as the shepherds begin discharging live rounds of ammunition into the air.  \”They do that when they\’re happy,\” our guide cheerfully explains.  Best to stick close to the pack I think.  Just then one our hosts whips out his machete and slices off a pinky sized piece of the spleen-stuffed intestine and looks in my direction.  Time grinds to a halt.  Beads of sweat form on my brow and a metallic taste floods the back of my mouth temporarily drowning out the stale raki.  Refusing would be a cardinal offense, but at this point I don\’t care.  \”Oh, no thank you\” I protest, \”I\’m so full!\”  For a minute I think I\’m actually going to get away with this transparent lie.  But alas the man continues to gesticulate, his fervor catching Tony\’s attention.  \”Tom,\” Tony says with that stern tone usually reserved for recalcitrant children \”eat it.\”  It has been spoken, the die is cast, there\’s no way out. 

Trembling, I take a bite … the taste is not all together repulsive…but no matter.  I\’ve already thoroughly visualized what I\’m eating.  The thought of probable lamb shit in my mouth, the hangover, and the raki infused bile churning in my stomach are not a good mix.  The situation reaches critical mass when for some reason I can\’t swallow…I really try but I can\’t.  The longer Socks\’ lower GI system remains in contact with my taste buds, the more dire the situation becomes.  I can feel it coming.  I\’m going to loose it and vomit in the middle of a scene (a No Reservations first by the way), forever besmirching our reputation on the Island of Crete.  An unforgivable act that will surely insult the kindness of twenty gun-wielding shepherds. 

I\’m frightened and I want to go home.  My eyes are tearing up, the color is draining from my face and everyone at the table now has their gaze trained on me.  A terrible grimace forms as I mime chewing…not missing a step, both cameras point their lenses in my direction.  My field of vision blurs, and the gag reflex so desperately repressed begins to kick in.  Then as if by divine intervention at the last moment I somehow manage to swallow.  It\’s truly a miracle.

As quickly as the horror began, normalacy (of a kind) resumes.  The Greeks go back to ripping away at Socks\’ charred corpse, the cameras refocus on the meal and Tony is appeased (which means I still have a job).  Disaster oh so narrowly averted.  Even though things turned out ok (for me if not Socks) I\’m having trouble seeing a Happy Ending.  I guess if I had to find some meaning here…a moral perhaps…it would be eating and drinking for a living is not as glamorous as you might think.  But I still wouldn\’t trade it for the world.

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4,322 Responses to “ANOTHER DAY AT THE OFFICE”

  1. Herb Melara says:
    July 26, 2011 at 7:04 am

    Hi” i think that you should add captcha to your blog.  

  2. soutien gorge says:
    August 20, 2011 at 7:08 am

    thank you great post

    soutien gorge

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