My friend Coreen and I went for dinner one evening to a restaurant that I used to work at, Earl's on 16th Avenue. The photo shows me with one of my former work-mates at the forno, an Italian brick oven which is used to cook pizzas and other delicious foods. At this restaurant, I was the forno cook for quite a while.

Outside my work-place, people would look very puzzled whenever I mentioned that I worked as a forno chef at Earl's. Then they would ask me the inevitable question, "what is a "porno chef" anyway?" After a while, I learned to enunciate much more clearly.

Well, Coreen and I had a great dinner at Earl's that evening. The staff were fabulous, and we had no troubles whatsoever. I was rather surprised, however, that people recognized me immediately after an absence of nearly three years. When I walked in, the bartender Brian yelled out,"Mr. Ita! What are you doing?"

None of my former work-mates had ever met me as Chris/tina before. And most knew me only by my work-place nickname, "Mr. Ita." Cooks, being what they are, had given me that name because I speak some Spanish and I would use it "on the line."

One day someone started calling me Seņorita. Of course, everyone thought this was quite hilarious. Personally, so did I, and I admit to then being rather delighted with the gender twist. Still, I played up to the joke and patiently insisted, with tongue in cheek, that Seņor was the appropriately gendered term.

For example, I said, "If my last name was Ita, one would then say Seņor Ita, if I was a man, and Seņora Ita, or Seņorita Ita, depending if I was a married or unwed woman."

Well, the joke took it's usual bizarre turn in the humour typical of cooks. I became "Seņor Ita," and then just "Mr. Ita." Personally, I still prefer "Seņorita." In any event, that evening I guess I was Seņorita, Forno Queen.

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