NON-ALLITERATIVE TUESDAY: TATTOOS

Non-Alliterative Tuesday: no obligations, no rhyme, reason or methodology other than that it's something relevant to food and goings-on in Kitchen Toro...

Show me a kitchen and I'll show you someone with a tattoo. It may be obvious, running the length of the arm, hidden at the nape of the neck, on the lower back or squirreled away somewhere more private. It may be homemade, done at the kitchen table by a friend or even self-drawn, but more likely than not, you'll find at least one on the line.

At left, Tim takes the first step, signing the consent form basically stating that he wanted the tattoo and that he's sober. Kitchens are often full of people with strong personalities, the types that can deal with dropped trays, burnt sauces, running out of food and the presures of "picking up" orders "on the fly" while being yelled at or while yelling at others.

The first step in the tattoo process is getting the outline done. At left, Tim shows off about a half hour of work on his left shoulder blade. Generally, they're also the kinds of personalities which aren't satisfied just dealing with those situations but like water, find all levels, spilling out beyond the "confines" of their colorful language, witty banter and sexual inuendo that can be a part of working in a kitchen.

I'd thought about getting a tattoo in college years ago and recently reconsidered when I accompanied several of my friends from the French Culinary Institute when they went to get theirs. Two of my classmates, Tim and Meg, both in my group at school went to the East Village and I tagged along as their photographer.

Back when I was going to get my tattoo I designed it myself. I was a studio art minor and I wasn't about to have something drawn on my body that I didn't draw myself. But I lost momentum and decided against getting the tattoo done when I took it to the local tattoo parlor in DC and didn't like their "customer service," a.k.a., their general lack of enthusiasm.

Years later, I have no regrets about not getting the tattoo but I don't think I would have any regrets had I actually gone through with getting that phoenix rising from ashes on my back within two rings of waves moving in opposite directions. Cliche? Maybe, but it would've been mine.

Funny though, the first thing that happened when we walked in to the tattoo parlor, a girl who had just had a tattoo done a day before at a different parlor was asking these artists if they could fix it. Not a good start. Her outstretched arm showed off a large black circle, filled in with a slight gray edge along one side. Was it the Japanese flag? No, an eclipse. Some ideas ARE better in the theoretical.

But both Meg and Tim had thoroughly thought out their designs. Meg had come up with the idea for her on her own and drawn the initial design by herself. Tim settled on a well-known logo that is close to his heart. Above right, Meg sucks on a lollipop to "mask her pain."

Actually, the tattoos didn't seem to hurt until after the first half hour of the needle going over and over the same area of skin...at least that's what I was told! Meg's tattoo is a hot red-head with a sailor's hat in tribute to old school tattoos and a chef knife in tribute to her new profession in the kitchen (finished tattoo at left and a close-up below).

The whole process from the time we walked in the door to the time we left took about an hour and a half. During this time it started to pour outside. It was teeming with thunder and lightning which scared a dog in the store belonging to one of the tattoo artists. I looked through the books of tattoos at the front of the parlor but didn't find anything compelling.

At right, Tim's finished tattoo, the superman logo revamped with red, white and blue in honor of his favorite comic book hero.

To celebrate, we all went out for a drink at Jung Min's Korean lounge in midtown, the Third Floor, a terrific place to hang out and eat spicy Korean food, drink fruit juice laced with sho-chu and have a terrific time looking out the huge windows three floors up from the chaos of the city streets.