I started working at Hardee's when I was 16. I did the usual stuff like taking orders, cooking fries and cleaning the floors. At that age, work was more about hanging out with my friends than learning new skills. But, after a couple of years, I got the chance of a lifetime. The guy who came in each morning to cook biscuits had called in hung over one too many times, so they thought they'd better train someone to be his backup. I jumped at the chance.
This new job was perfect for me. I got to come in early before the other employees arrived, and I got to hang out in the back away from the customers. My public appearances were limited to several times a day when I was forced to carry trays of cooked biscuits out to the holding oven on the back line.
I have the skills to be a good cook. I follow directions and I pay attention to details. These skills helped me to cook good biscuits. Really good biscuits. I got a reputation for making the best Hardee's biscuits in town, so when it was announced that there was going to be a nationwide contest for the best Hardee's biscuit cook, I was excited. I didn't know who Cale Yarborough was, but included in the first prize, was a chance to meet him, and ride in his Hardee's Nascar racer.
First we had a competition between all the cooks that worked at the 4 Hardee's restaurants in Champaign/Urbana. I don't remember much about that competition, but I did win and earned the right to move on to the area competition in Belleville.
There isn't much to cooking Hardee's biscuits. The only ingredients were a bag of flour, 2 containers of buttermilk, 2 cubes of shortening, and a secret packet that I can only assume contained yeast, baking powder, salt and other stuff. Throw them all in a mixer, turn it on, and you're pretty much done. I, though, had made some tweaks to the procedure that I'm sure led to my awesome biscuits. First, I always shorted the mix about a half cup of buttermilk. Second, instead of throwing the entire cubes of shortening into the mixer, I took the time to pinch off quarter-sized pieces from the cubes. It took more time to do this, but I was convinced it helped. Lastly, before I removed the dough from the mixer to plop onto the rolling table, I always let it set for a few minutes, giving it time to rise. I tried to keep these procedures a secret, fearing that I might get fired for varying from the official biscuit making handbook.
It was the day of the big bake-off in Belleville. I didn't get many instructions on how it was going to work except that I had to bring my own ingredients from the local restaurant. No problem there. My mom went with me that day, partly for moral support, but mostly because I was afraid to drive on the interstate. We arrived in plenty of time for the competition and my confidence was at an all-time high. That didn't last long though. When I went to get the ingredients out of the hatchback of dad's Citation, I realized that I had made a costly mistake. I had stored the ingredients in the direct sunlight and the shortening was half melted. When I informed the judges of this, they were not sympathetic, ensuring what ended up being my last place finish.
For my troubles, I got a $50 bill and a Hardee's Racing Team Cale Yarborough jacket. It was pretty sweet. I never wore it though. It only brought back painful memories.
This past Christmas, when I was down in my parents' basement, I looked for that old jacket. I thought it was time to face my fears and put it on. I looked on the racks where mom used to keep the old clothes, but I never found it. Then, a couple of weeks later, I was out in my dad's garage where he runs his eBay operations. There, hanging on a rack, was the old jacket, still unworn, and still looking pretty sweet. No, I didn't try it on. It was obvious that it wasn't going to fit, and I was worried that I'd rip out a seam or something trying to put it on. I did check the pockets, though, for a receipt, a Hardee's napkin, or a $50 bill that might have been stashed away 30 years ago. Nothing.
It turns out that dad sold my coat on eBay for $31. A fitting end to a time long ago when my cooking skills were at their apex.
