Thursday, November 19, 2009

ring, ring


On occasion, I have been known to call a customer when they are seated in the restaurant. It happens this way: we keep a list of people who want to come in that night, I see an opening and call the person. However, at some point the person called in, spoke to someone other than me, got a reservation and is now enjoying their dinner in the restaurant. When I phone them on their cell phone, we have a good laugh, I feel a bit sheepish and then we move on.

The other night, I got a call from a customer in the restaurant, they phoned the restaurant line from their cell phone. It went like this: "Hi, I'm sitting at the table over by the bar and I feel that you haven't been paying enough attention to our table. You've been talking to other tables but not ours and I want you to come talk to our table." Me: "Um, ok, will do."

Another night at the Bistro.

Friday, October 2, 2009

More about the fall menu

Last night was great!  It was a relatively quieter evening for us (although some tables still turned 3 times) and the timing was really good so the kitchen could get in its groove.  The food looked and smelled delicious and customers gave us great feedback.  I am really happy with this menu...

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Fall Menu

New Menu Time.  Aaahhh, if only the process was as delightful as the product!  Tomorrow, we start the new menu.  Alex and I have been working on it for weeks.  We have talked food non-stop for weeks.  Which, on the outside might sound delightful, but really, there is a limit to everything!  We have haggled with each other (okay, you can have Tripe Soup but I get Vegetable Tagine with Cous Cous - I'll let you all figure out who was on which side of THAT conversation), we have dissected and reconstructed, we have priced and priced and priced and hunted down suppliers trying to make it affordable yet still be able to pay the rent and staff.  All round, the process is, well, a process.

Yeah, the new menu is here!  

Tomorrow, we'll serve fall food and it is beautiful.  We have worked hard to make a creative, comforting, luxurious menu.  Please come and let us know how we did!

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

the teen years


This week, as I sat at my daughter's gymnastics class, I listened to a small group of parents talk about how lucky they were to grow up when they did because they couldn't really get into too much trouble. Whereas, they pontificated, today's kids are surrounded by bad influences, scary and dangerous options and are hard to keep safe.

Really? I am somewhat amazed by this thinking. In some ways, I wonder if it reflects an abdication of responsibility: nothing I can do, the world is a bad place. Or maybe it is meant to be a justification for what I think of as overparenting: constantly breathing down your child's neck and denying them the freedom to explore who they are and what they believe in.

Regardless, I think these parents are terribly wrong. The teens I know today are far more responsible, aware, thoughtful, and safer than I was as a teen or any of my cohort seemed to be. I have the pleasure (and occasional frustration) of working with a lot of teens. They make up a significant portion of restaurant workers. So every day I get to spend hours with a variety of teens and listen to their stories and adventures. I am amazed at how clever and creative they can be.

Last night, one of our teen dishwashers proudly showed me his band t-shirt. He had been in a 'battle of the bands' and a t-shirt had been created of all the participants. It's a great shirt! Now, the night he was in the battle of the bands, he had tried to find another dishwasher to cover his shift. He couldn't and so had to leave from the stage and come straight to work. We figured he would probably ditch work and hang out with his buddies, riding on the high of performing, and find a different job. He didn't. He showed up and worked the night. As it was a Saturday night, we were really grateful!

We have one teen who has been with us since he was 14 years old. He is about to turn 18. He has learned all the kitchen jobs, he will jump in and wash dishes or be left to prep an entire catering with little supervision. He works at the Bistro, plays basketball, goes to a tough school that requires a lot of him, has a girlfriend and will drive to pick up his little brother from a friend's house late at night. He is a good kid. Of course, he still talks back to his mother which drives me nuts but we're working on it!

I guess my point is that teens are lovely and hanging out with them is pretty great. I think most of the kids I know are perfectly capable of navigating our "big and scary" world. Alex and I have been rewarded time and time again for trusting all the kids in our lives. I don't fear my kids' teen years: they will do inappropriate things, they'll be crabby some days but generally, I think they are pretty great people and I'm looking forward to doing fun things with them.

Having said all that, our new 14 year old dishwasher walked out in the middle of his shift last night!

Friday, September 25, 2009

bumpy road




Some nights at the restaurant sail along beautifully, people come in, get seated, have drinks, eat food, laugh, have fun and life is good!  Other nights, are bumpy, odd and tiring.  Tonight was a bumpy night.

People came but so many came at once!  Some people were late, others were early and so they showed up at the same time and the kitchen got slammed.  We couldn't move appetizers fast enough to make room for mains.  Sometimes what happens is that we put so much pressure on the kitchen to get stuff out that they put it out too quickly and the food isn't perfect.  

Timing is tricky and we try to make it right.  Some tables are gracious and can see that we are trying very hard to make it all work but other tables are cranky and snipe at us.  Once this starts to happen, we get kind of disheartened and we have to work really hard to make sure we don't snowball into being grouchy ourselves.  We feel so bad when it doesn't work as smoothly and we want to make it right!  

Of course, once we have refires on food, or food takes awhile to come out because the timing is bad, we can't get tables out in what would have been a perfectly reasonable amount of time if we hadn't got off track in the first place.  Then, we wind up with tables having to wait to be seated.  

Sigh.

In all of this though, people laughed and drank and ate and for the most part seem to enjoy themselves

Tomorrow is another day and we'll get back at it and make it fabulous!  

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Performing Happy


Saturday was a tough night.  My apologies to all the lovely customers.

Almost exactly 16 years ago, Alex and I got married.  We bought our first house and, for Christmas that year, I gave Alex a gift certificate to the Humane Society for a dog.  It was early spring when we felt ready to go and pick out a dog.  Actually, 'ready' might be an overstatement - I called our friends and asked that they come with us because I'm a big suck and would wind up crying incessantly over all the dogs we couldn't take home.  Alex and Brent went inside while Jaik and I waited outside.  A little while later, Alex and Brent emerged with a small, black dog that didn't look anything like our predetermined decision to seek out a black lab.  She wanted to run so Alex started to run with her and she immediately laid down.  She laid there for a minute and then got up and started to run again.  This scenario repeated itself several times.  We realized that when she felt unsure about the situation, she laid down.  Clearly, this was the dog for us.  It also turned out that her birthday was our wedding day of five months previous.  It seemed like a great fit.  The "Dog of the Day" at the Humane Society was named Lily which we thought was a pretty name and took it for our new dog (anyone who has seen our yard will know that Alex has a big thing for lilies and we have many of them.)

Lily came home with us and fit in quite well.  She was incredibly well-behaved. We figured out she had been abused by a silver-haired man (had an intense fear of them) and she had been abused with shovels and brooms (she feared both.)  We spent a lot of time giving her lots of love.  She only barked when someone came to the door, she loved to run at the park and she slept through the night.  After a few weeks, we came home one night and she had had diarrhea all over the floor.  She went into the cupboard under the sink and got out the paper towel, pulled off bits of it and tried to 'clean' up the mess.  That night was the beginning of her being very sick.  She had parvo-virus and was incredibly sick.  For weeks, Alex had to carry her up the stairs at night and we would steam her in the bathroom.  One vet told us that we should put her down (while simultaneously telling us we needed to brush her teeth and selling us very expensive toothpaste!)  In the end, she recovered and lived a healthy and happy life, full of trips to the park and very exciting canoe trips (often involving a lot of wildlife!)  

Saturday, Lily died.  

She had been increasingly unwell.  Lily was deaf and mostly blind.  She had trouble walking and she insisted on being outside all the time.  She was often confused and would bang into things.  She was a coming to the end but of course when it happened our hearts melted.  Alex took her to the vet and made the decision that she was in too much pain to keep alive.  We all cried a lot.  
Then, Saturday night at the restaurant is upon us.  There is a lesson in performing!  We both felt like we had been hit by a truck: dazed, confused, sad, and hurting.  But, when you go for dinner, these are not the kind of people you want to hang around so we had to suck it up.  It was hard but in some ways, it was good for us.  We definitely weren't at our best but we made the evening flow and except for being a bit disconnected, I think it went okay.  So, my apologies to the customers that I didn't visit a lot with (girls from California - really wanted to know more of your stories!) and for being distracted (guy at 2A whose wine order I forgot!) Thanks also to the staff who were wonderful.  Especially Roger who was almost as sad as we were.  

Fortunately, we are all well-versed in performing happy.

 

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Sound Energy

Tonight, I noticed that it is noisy in the restaurant. Now, for those of you who come to the restaurant, this really isn't going to be a shock. It is a... vibrant space.

For the first year, we fretted about the sound. Handily, Alex's dad is a physicist with a little subspecialty in acoustics (dinner conversation at the Svenne household can be intense!) We had many conversations with him about how to address the issue. After that first year, we lost interest and oddly enough people simply adjusted. In fact, I think for the most part, people crave the energy created by the sound. A musician friend of ours from New York told us to not change a thing about the sound, she said that the acoustics were fantastic and it was a great vibe.

So many of the sounds are organic to a restaurant. There is no door to the dish pit so you hear the plates being stacked and the pans being sprayed; the servers' station is out in the open so you hear glasses rattling, cutlery being polished and dropped into the bin, and the ice being scooped into jugs. The kitchen is sitting in the middle of the room so you hear the pops and sizzles of cooking and the crash of the pans into the bus tub (you can also hear the conversation of the chefs which I had to remind them of tonight as they were on a long-winded rant...)


You also hear the music and we love music! Our lives are full of music. And, we LOVE to dance. Our best folk festival musical moment this year was being dead tired, 2 a.m. Sunday morning, squished in wall to wall people, dancing to So Called, a crazy hip hop klezmer band. It was delicious! What this translates to at the restaurant is constant music. We have many playlists and are always on the prowl for new music that fits different times of day and different moods (feel free to send suggestions.) We also dance a lot: Alex, the staff, me. In fact, I am sitting and writing this at the bar right now and it is 11 at night after a very busy Friday, and Alex and Clint are dancing away on the line.


Two nights ago, it was very quiet in the restaurant. I think that night is what spurred this post. It was eery. The joint was jammed full, including big parties, the music was turned up to "party" playlist, and NOTHING. I couldn't get the room buzzing to save myself. Every time I went to say something to someone, I felt like everyone in the room was leaning in to have a listen cause they had nothing else going on. It was at that moment that I realized many things: the acoustics of the space contribute to the noise; the volume and choice of music contribute to the noise; all the restaurant sounds contribute to the noise; but, the customers engaging with each other and us make the place hop! We can't generate the volume of sound that lively, happy, chatty people enjoying each other and their food and wine can create. Tonight, I experimented by telling the dishwasher to be extra quiet, polishing the cutlery gently, turning the music down, and none of it really changed the fact that it is loud in our restaurant. Loud with people. And, I love it!










Friday, July 31, 2009

chat with youngest daughter

Our youngest daughter is going through a phase right now.  She needs a lot of attention and energy and is very stressed out by Alex and I being away from her.  She cries when I leave for work and she calls me every night before she goes to sleep and demands that I come home.  Fortunately, I've been parenting long enough to get that I just need to hang tight, give her lots of hugs and love, and we'll move to a different stage.   

Today, as part of all this anxiety, our daughter told me that she was coming to work with me tonight.  Well, she is pretty young, and many of her sentences start with the words, "I want..." and so I explained that, in the restaurant, everything is about the customer.  I wanted her to hear that when we are in the restaurant, we have to only think about the customer (and taking a moment to plant seeds in her 5-year old brain about empathy!) which means that it would be a very boring and tedious place for her to spend time.  She was actually pretty quick to catch on that this sounded dismal and moved on to a new topic (she also didn't cry when I left for work tonight - secretly feeling sorry for me?!)  However, the exchange left me thinking about the dynamics of the restaurant.

When you are working at the restaurant, it is like you disappear.  There is absolutely no "I want."  From the moment you walk in the door, you are constantly scanning to try and figure out how to make life better for customers: are the tables in the right spot so that the (minimal) leg room is maximized? are the lights at the right brightness for the time of day? is the music at the right volume? is it the right kind of music? is the air conditioning too cold or not cold enough? do they have drinks? what is the drink special tonight? can we call their mains or are they wanting to pause after their appys?  The questions are endless and they flip through your head all night long.  You forget that your feet are screaming.  Sometimes you remember to re-hydrate and have something to drink. Occasionally, you remember that you need to pee.  

But, most of the time, you disappear.  And, you know, it's okay.  It's kind of a neat experience.  Not meant for the pre-school crowd but it is definitely a cool way to look at the world for a few hours and definitely makes me think about life differently.  

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

pampered...


Last week, I was feeling a bit fried.  Completely exhausted, to be honest.  

Fortunately, after a small amount of prodding, Alex noticed and arranged for a bit of TLC for me. I was told to go to Tiber River (tiberriver.ca) on Academy.  It is so very lovely in there.  The woman at the reception desk is funny and friendly.  She knew who I was and related a great story about coming to our restaurant.  She was everything you want in a first-contact-with-the-public position.  I was led into the back room and given a fantastic pedicure.  My feet suffer from wearing high heels and running around the restaurant every day for hours.  It was exactly what I needed.  But, of course, Alex gilded the lily.  As I was sitting at my station, in walks Scott Bagshaw, the chef of Pizzeria Gusto.  He brought two plates with ridiculously delicious food: a shrimp appy and some bruschetta.  It was perfect.

Now, here's the thing about this experience: it was created by someone with a panache for service and delivered by two companies who clearly understand customer service.  I love that Alex thought to add the touch of food during the pedicure.  I love that Scott walked it over himself!  I love that every minute at Tiber River was serene and gentle and fun.  Even the camaraderie amongst the staff was palpable.  I love that the Tiber River staff offered to take my dishes back to Pizzeria Gusto (but I'm not that much of a princess, thanks)!  This few hours rejuvenated me (which was good 'cause we had a whopper of a catering job after this that I will blog more about later...) and led me to a moment of contemplating customer service.   As always, I am contemplating how to make ours even better.  

It is a good thing to feel taken care of; I hope to keep the good karma flowing.  

Sunday, July 19, 2009

we're back...


Hi all,

I have received some feedback that we haven't been posting enough so I'm back and I will try to pay attention.  I will also try to help Alex remember to post on his blog.

I read the most fascinating statistic about our lives recently (I often find out interesting tidbits about us from other sources!), on the folk festival weekend we led a group of people in generating 50, 000 meals.  This feels mind-boggling and yet at the same time, it was the most incredible, exhilarating experience imaginable.  The whole 5 days, I felt consumed by the needs of these 5, 000 people; it felt a little bit like having a giant group of insatiably hungry children.  Constant line ups of folks looking for a nosh.  We fed them bison short ribs (500 pounds eaten in 45 minutes!), barbecued chicken, baked raspberry cream cheese french toast, lamb tagine, and baked macaroni and cheese.  We had a 'guerilla tent' that popped up and served up tasty surprises like caesar mussels and huevos rancheros.  We paired drinks like Moroccan sweetened mint tea (like they have at the hamam - so yummy) with the tagines.  

We plan for months to do this week.  We write the menus and then Alex writes the recipes from scratch.  I sort out who does what when to get the food from written idea to end product.  We figure out how much food, sort out volunteers, find tents and gators, design and have Hutterites build ovens, meet with health inspectors and office staff.  We have to think and work hard to pull off running the backstage kitchen at the folk festival.

On the weekend itself, the running around and trying to physically pull of this feat was pretty crazy... Oh my, 6 boxes of potatoes need to sliced on the dicing wall and this chicken needs to be grilled on these flat tops and I better move these 24-100 oz cans of kidney beans to make way for the 20 watermelons about to arrive.  Of course, me being me, I looked down at one point while I was grilling chicken on the fly and realized I was wearing a cashmere sweater, a fabulous scarf and Brown's platform heels!  Sometimes I can be ridiculous.

Trying to keep track of the paper work and figuring out who should cook what when, left me with very few thoughts by the end of the weekend (see sweater/footware choices above).  I get to a point during this weekend where I honestly think I am no longer making sense.  I can't remember people's names, I'm blurry and confused.  It's not necessarily pretty.  However, I noticed this year, that I kept it together.  Usually I wind up having a weepy time where I sort of fall apart and cry for awhile.  I usually take a time out and get someone to drive me around the site while I get it together but this year I was fairly calm. 

The biggest high comes from the people.  My favourite part of the whole weekend is having two thousand people lined up in a giant tent for dinner and yelling out "Dinner's served!" and people whooping and cheering in appreciation; it send shivers up my spine every time.  I love walking through the kitchen and meeting the people transforming our thoughts and ideas into actual food.  I love listening in to conversations between volunteers about their real-life worlds, or their festival experiences or their thoughts on the food.  I love the connection; I find it endlessly fascinating.  

After the festival week is said and done, I walk away feeling like I have learned so much that it will take me until next year just to figure it all out.  I feel like I have been raised up by the process of two hundred non-cooks coming together and creating haute cuisine.  I feel like it is my responsibility to go out for the rest of the year and live the lessons I have learned about being part of a community.  I feel like I am challenged to be a better person by being involved in this ridiculous, crazy-ass project.

And so, I get back to my restaurant with high expectations of myself.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

the fishbowl...











So one of the things about living in a bit of a fishbowl is... people seem to have free license to say whatever is on their minds.  It's an interesting situation to be in.  We put ourselves out into the middle of the room, we are fundamentally social people (just came from a lively dinner party with friends after 12 straight days of having dinner parties at the restaurant...); we love to talk!  Sometimes though, I am surprised by what people will say to me.  I have had people ask very intimate details about Alex and my relationship.  I have been asked (a few times) if I am pregnant and alternately if I am sick (after I took up running).   I also had a woman tell me I should get breast reduction surgery.  Let me tell you, the impact of all of this on getting dressed to go to work can be enormous.  

Friday was a particularly rough day in my world and I went into work deflated.  For the first few hours, I struggled with being present and tending to people.  I kind of felt like I needed someone to tend to me...  But, as the evening bumped along (really, it felt less-than-smooth), I started to gain energy from the people in the room - the servers, the bussers, the kitchen staff and the customers.  That is a delightful little moment in any day, a slight shift takes place in my body, my awareness, my abilities, and I relish every moment.  

Even when people say kind of weird things to me.

 

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Hi, how are you?

As some of you may or may not know, Alex and I ran the backstage kitchen (aka 'La Cuisine') at the Winnipeg Folk Festival for 13 years.  Two years ago, that relationship came to a bit of a rocky end.  This year, the new Executive Director of the festival, Tamara, invited us to sit down and talk for bit.  She talked about many things with us but the highlight for me was when she suggested that people working the gate of festival will be encouraged to start their interactions with patrons with the following: "Hi, welcome to the Winnipeg Folk Festival."  I felt joyful! Which seems kind of silly and a bit of an over-reaction but this simple phrase has the power to change so much.  

When customers walk into the restaurant, I try to greet everyone with, "Hi, how are you?" and look them in the eye.  I want people to feel like they belong.  Sometimes our place can be so busy and so intense, it might be a little bit overwhelming and I want people to know that they are welcome here.  But, it's more than just that.  I want to engage in a relationship with people. I am welcoming them into my home (some days I'm at the restaurant more than in my house) and I want them to feel comfortable.  I was just listening to a piece on Definitely Not The Opera and it was about the power of looking people in the eye.  They were suggesting that not only does it build trust (as in, I want you to have a good time here today and you have faith that you will) but it also creates a 'willingness'.  This is a trickier idea but it certainly has come in handy.  
Last night, I kind of got confused by how many people were still to come in and how many walk-ins I had accepted and really, generally what I was doing.  It happens.  I get a little tired, I get a little overexcited by customers I haven't seen for awhile at the door, I let everyone come in!  So, I got to that point of the night (mind you, it was almost 10:00 at night... if I did this at 6:00, I'd be a little worried...) where I didn't have enough tables for everyone.  I had this lovely couple come in with a reservation and I wasn't sure where to put them.  I greeted them and had a little visit.  I then asked them if they would like to start at the chef's table and they agreed. Within about 10 minutes, it became obvious to me that I wasn't finding a table.  Here comes the moment when I take a deep breath and go in for the are-you-happy-at-the-bar conversation.  I even wince as I type those words.  It can go horribly awry and I spend the evening dodging people.  Fortunately, they were happy!  Yeah!  I suspect that if we hadn't had time to connect, have a look-each-other-in-the-eye conversation, it may have unfolded differently.  Relationship is a brilliant concept and when it comes to life, great things can happen!

And so, before they need to search your bag at the Folk Fest this year, they will welcome you. And, if you volunteer or perform, you will eat our food.  See you there!




















Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Taste of the Nation Part II

Well, it was definitely a party.  A party with a lot of bodies, food, alcohol and very little air conditioning.  It is such a treat to see so many industry people playing together.  It starts off with a bang - they open the doors at 6 pm and you get kind of trampled at your little table.  Fortunately our table was stationed between the Hendricks gin table and the espresso vodka table which meant some nice diversions.  We were serving Thai mussels and pig snout salad - the snout is done two ways, braised and crispy fried, and served on fennel citrus slaw.  It was surprisingly well received.  It's the precursor to our new appy menu item snout to tail, which is snout, pork belly and pig tail.  And to think, we used to be vegetarians...

After we served all the guests, we got to go and eat!  It was fun to try all the different chef offerings, see old friends, see which (single) chefs were chasing girls (no names but it was quite the display!).  I loved the ravioli in brodo from Dacquisto, the duck from Gusto, and I love Chef Tristan's foie gras with Sauterne gelee (yum!  I had more than one...) and I am a sucker for the mini yorkshire puddings stuffed with prime rib and gravy from 529.  

Usually at the end of the night we wind up in a lounge hanging out with people and visiting but sadly Alex is really sick so we ended it early.  It's a great life but it can wear you out sometimes...

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Taste of the Nation Part I

Tonight is Taste of the Nation.  I must confess I know little about what this function is or how it works but I do know it was a hoot last year so I'm glad to be going back.  Taste of the Nation is held at the Fairmont and the public buys tickets to come and eat little dishes made by local chefs. The money raised goes to provide food for people who are struggling with attaining the basic necessities.  I usually know much about the charities I give my money to but found myself along for the ride with this one.  One of my goals tonight is to find out more about it.

The event itself is a bit of an opportunity for the chefs to show off to each other so the food last year was pretty fantastic: my favourite was Barry saunder's foie gras cotton candy... yum!  Alex did marrow bones which went over surprisingly well.  This year we are doing thai mussels and pig snout salad - I love seeing the ladies all dressed up and being polite and trying Alex's food.  Speaking of all dressed up, again the pressure about clothing.  Hopefully I can figure out what to wear sooner rather than later...  Will update on what food we get to try!

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Rent-A-Nerd


Well, the title says it all.  Rent-a-Nerd.  Sigh.  

My apologies to the party involved in the story but how could I not share?  I think we all agreed in the end, it was a tale worth telling.

It all began with a relatively straight-forward Saturday night at the Bistro: multiple parties, fun people, parties 'camping' at tables, not enough water glasses or small forks, the kitchen buried in orders and generally a feeling of delightful chaos.  We managed to seat our big party a little late (see aforementioned 'campers') but everything seemed to be going well.

Then there is this very loud voice saying, "Didn't this used to be a fireplace store?"  In that moment, many thoughts raced through my mind.  Is someone lost? Did I mishear?  Is someone really drunk?  Again, "Didn't this used to be a fireplace store?" Okay, now my brain is really racing and I'm looking around to see where this is coming from and then I see him: the Rent-A-Nerd.  My heart sinks.  (When I was telling this story to my in-laws, my recently retired nuclear physicist father-in-law piped up with, "I can rent myself out?") 

My eyes landed on this guy wearing shorts (it was -5 outside) pulled up above his waist, an oversized suit jacket, oversized glasses and slicked back hair, holding balloons.  He was shouting something about the customer and a stay in the hospital... Every minute or so he would interject with "Didn't this used to be a fireplace store?"  He was so loud.  The cooks and dishwashers in the back kitchen stopped working because it was so loud and awkward.  Fortunately, the one birthday group was seated next to a second birthday group and for the most part, it seemed to be okay.  Unfortunately, every single person in the restaurant was forced to stop their evening and hang out while this show took place.

I wish I could say that I handled this seamlessly and knew exactly how to behave but that is not the case.  Alex and I exchanged about a thousand looks, hoping to see that the other one had figured out what to do.  Nope.  I walked outside and stood on the street for a few minutes.  When I came back in, I got to hear the Rent-A-Nerd yelling "SHUT UP everyone, we have to sing happy birthday."  Now I caught the eye of some of the birthday party guests and they looked as confused as me.  So, I went over to one end of the table to offer to get them drinks.  The guests asked me if I could get rid of the Rent-A-Nerd.  Could I?!  You bet.  I discreetly went to the back of him and suggested that it was time to wrap it up.  He tried to turn me into part of his show but that wasn't really going to happen...

In the end, he left and everyone exhaled a sigh of relief.  Now we have a funny story!  Second only to the couple that hung out in the bathroom together for a long time the same night... but that's for another day.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

The Lost Reso

There is little that will strike fear into the heart of a restaurant worker faster than the lost reservation.  Of course, last night, we had one.  I had already given away my 'wiggle-room' table: the table that wasn't rebooked that would have allowed me to shuffle people all night long.  And, of course, it was the worst kind of lost reso, four people (not a simple 2-top than can be tucked in at the end of the bar or can sit at any table in the place).  Four women, 2 daughters out for dinner with their mom and aunt - how can I feel worse???  

When the lost reso first shows up, there is this moment of suspended time.  You hold the reso list in front of you, scanning up and down, down and up, certain that you just can't see their name.  Then you start to panic while still smiling which sounds straight forward but actually requires an incredible force of will.  You spend a few moments flipping through the book, trying to find the actual reservation.  Every time I have done this, I have wondered to myself the whole time how I think this will be helpful.  What difference does it make if I find their name written on Saturday or next Tuesday (which it was), they are still standing right in front of me and need to feel like I'm going to take care of them.  

In the end, I shuffled people, had to make another table wait for 20 minutes which cost me 4 glasses of Prosecco, and generally sweated the whole night.  At one point in my grand shuffle I had 10 people sitting at a place for 8.  Fortunately they were all gracious about it.  Overall that makes it so much easier - people being kind.  I feel like I can make anything happen with my 10 tables and 8 bar stools as long as folks are nice.  It is very hard slogging when people are rude and demanding after you have moved heaven and earth to make sure they have time and a place to sit!  

Fortunately, we rarely lose resos and, knock on wood, we get through most nights seamlessly.  Whatever happens, I work really hard at making sure that the customers feel like I couldn't be happier that they are here (as opposed to that panic I was describing earlier!)

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Jitters

Every night, before coming to the restaurant, I go through a ritual.  I pick out my clothes (black or black - you'd think it wouldn't be as tricky as it turns out to be), I do my hair, put on make-up, choose my jewelry and say good-bye to my children.  Each kid has a different way of letting me go: Ursula gives me long hugs, Sasha squeezes me so tight I feel a little bit lightheaded and then tries to lift me up off my feet, and Olivia cries a little and asks me to stay home, the whole time giving me multiple neck hugs and kissing me on both cheeks like some continental diva.  I get in my van and start the drive.  When I am about 3 blocks before the restaurant, I get this nervous, jittery feeling and it builds and builds until I park the van and go into the building.  I love this and hate it.  Every night, I say to myself, 'Really, you're being ridiculous.  Why are you nervous?  It's your restaurant, it'll be fine.'  But, every night I am.

Tonight, more so than usual.

It was my first night back at the restaurant in 10 days.  We have just returned from a holiday and I felt like I was starting all over.  Going in, I think that I'm going to forget how to pour drinks or spill things or drop things.  And, of course, I do.  I dropped more cutlery than I have in months (and a coffee cup - right in the middle of the room - just dropped it).  I couldn't read the reso sheet and I confused people at the door.  I forgot to take a reso's phone number and I wrote in ink in the book (a cardinal sin if ever there was one...)  Generally, I was a disaster.  

I LOVED every minute of it!  I was this bumbling, nervous girl and I still had a great time.  Customers were funny and sweet and the staff was gentle with me.  I'm very lucky.

When Alex started doing a blog, we thought it would be fun to have some front of the house representation.  It's also a place to talk about being a mom and running a restaurant and being a woman in business.  It's quite the ride and I'm looking forward to writing about it.