Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Sense of Entitlement


The other night, I woke up several times through the night. This usually happens when I have to get up early the next morning and I had to get up so early that morning for hockey. However, I don’t think that is what was causing the sleeplessness. What kept waking me up was an interaction I had with a customer that night. It shook me. 
It was a solidly busy night and Alex was working an off-site catering but generally the evening was going well and the food was going out a decent pace. We were all having fun, joking around about how tired we all were. You see, it was Valentine’s weekend, the busiest of weeks for restaurants and we were no exception. We had seen our busiest Valentine’s Day ever a few days prior and we had continued to be slammed for the weekend. 
Then the thing happened that throws everyone off: a cook cut himself. Badly. We have a prep kitchen in the basement and there is cook who preps and runs food up to the line all night. The line cooks communicate with the “runner” by flipping a switch and a light comes on in the basement indicating that the line needs something. It took a few minutes to figure out what was even happening (why isn’t he answering the light?!!) but eventually we put all the pieces together and realized we had a situation. So a bartender with first aid training decided to take the cook to emergency for assessment. Emotionally its a complicated moment in a team when someone gets injured. There are the initial moments of confusion and shock, then there is the sorting out of who has to take care of what to keep the team rolling, and then there is the challenge of getting grounded again and getting the job done. 
All of this happens fairly quickly. On average, I would say 10 minutes from cut and being bundled off to the hospital, to regrouping and getting your show back on the road. Remarkably quickly, I would say. And in the meantime, you just want to front of the house to continue on. Keep the drinks coming, the bread, the music, the laughs, the visiting. It’s a conundrum: do you let guests know what’s happening or just let the party keep rolling and hope it doesn’t create too many hiccups? People also are weird about cooks and blood. Understandably so. But, folks, it happens, they cut themselves. And we clean up, throw out whatever they were working on, and clean their station. Life goes on. So, that night, I went with keeping the party rolling. 
Generally the restaurant seemed happy. But the kitchen was overwhelmed. In the time that it had taken to figure out what was happening, sort out what the prep hadn’t got to, and get cooking again was tough on them. And I think our sous-chef’s brain was about to implode from information overload. We stopped calling out the bills for about 5 minutes and regrouped. Just finished cooking what was right in front of us and kept moving. Calling out the bills is letting the cooks know what they need to get cooking. Our sous-chef couldn’t hear another “octopus” or “tequila mussels”. You could see his brain just couldn’t even figure out what we were saying. 
At 25 minutes into this moment in our evening, a very nice lady came up to me. She explained that their table had been there for quite sometime and were wondering when their apps would be up. I apologized. I decided to explain to her that we’d had an incident and that I hadn’t necessarily wanted the servers telling their tables. I also let her know her apps were up next and I would be buying her table’s apps for the evening. She thanked me, seemed to understand and went back to her table. I checked her bill time. The order for apps had been in for 22 minutes. Yep. 22 minutes. She had come in with 7 other people, been sat, ordered drinks, been served drinks, had ordered food and had waited 22 minutes for her apps. It took us another 7 minutes to get them finished, plated and delivered to their table. I felt that we had a done a really good job. 
Another 25 minutes passes, in which time I’ve called Alex and asked him to get back from the catering and he got on the line, and a man from the original woman’s table comes up to me. As we are plating their mains. He talks to me about feeling frustrated at how they’ve had to wait. During this time they’ve also been doing shooters. I can never tell how those affect people. He was not nearly as pleasant as the lady. He was resentful. I explained to him what had happened. I let him know that I had already talked to a party from his table and bought their apps. This somehow didn’t seem to satisfy him. I asked him what I could do to make it better. He responded that someone should have told their table. I explained to him why I hadn’t wanted the servers doing that but acknowledged that maybe I should have handled that differently. I asked him twice what I could do to make the situation better. He didn’t seem to want to focus on solutions, only on the timing problems. He became increasingly irritated with me. I explained that we were plating his food at that moment and I should get back to it.
In the end, the party had apps 30 minutes after ordering them and mains 30 minutes after that. Not our goal. Not a good day. 
Always after moments like this, all the things I should have said come to my mind. Like, “Have you ever had a tough day at work? Does it help when people are nasty to you about it?” or “Having grace is a powerful way to move through the world” but of course none of this comes to me at the time. Instead, we all just try to gather ourselves back up and get back to work.
We are in the business of food. We should have got that food out faster. However, I come from a place where I don’t understand the sense of entitlement that rules our dining experiences. There are people who feel that it is their right to get the food at exactly the same time as anywhere else. It doesn’t matter that we make everything from scratch and cook it to order. It doesn’t matter that someone hurt himself. That person is entitled and they are going to make sure everyone knows. Ok. We know. Wouldn’t it have been more fun to engage in a little more conversation at your table and, if you were totally starving, ask for a little extra bread? Resilience is also an important part of this conversation. Surviving your food taking an extra ten minutes, when surrounded by friends, wine, music, and a lively environment, is a skill we should all develop. And do it gracefully.
I think normally most of this would have been water off a duck’s back for me. You know, I’ve been doing this restaurant gig for 7 years. I was a crisis counsellor for years before that, for people with real problems. But the real kicker of this, and what really bothered me, is that the table stiffed their server. Not one penny. And they made her feel terrible about herself. They completed deflated her. All over waiting a few extra minutes. 

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

School Nights

As the holiday hubbub wraps up, the ornaments get tucked into boxes and the wreathes seek shelter in a corner of the basement, the energy shifts. The new year is always such a time of cleaning (I love the sparse ways of January after the crowded ways of December), organizing, sorting, creating order for the coming months. At bistro, this shift of season has led to much cleaning and organizing. We recycle all our glass bottles and in December we simply can't keep up so we have a wall of empty wine and booze bottles waiting patiently in old wine boxes to head to the recycling depot. Janine has taken multiple trips in the truck over the past week to take them. You can feel the sigh of relief from everyone at bistro as one more zone gets cleared out and we have a wee bit more space to work! New menu planning is underway. New projects are being ignited. Everyone is taking a deep breath, exhaling relief that we made it, and finding space to move forward.

And, for so many, January also means the return to school. As homeschoolers, we have always just worked when we felt inspired and followed the rhythms of ourselves. For the past two years, I have had 2 kids dipping their toes into academia and so we also returned to school this week. This has been helpful in reminding us that it is time to fire up School Nights again at the bistro.

A few years ago, Alex and I were staying in Toronto at the Drake Hotel. I love the Drake for many reasons (and it is not the peaceful night's sleep that you get, be ready to embrace a party!), in particular I love the creative energy that is sparking away in that place: from drinks, to food, to art, to music, the place is abuzz at all times. There are curated art shows. Like, for real. As many of you know, I like art. My restaurant is chock a block in real, actual pieces of art. My home is crammed with art. I love being surrounded by visuals that engage me, challenge me, soothe me, and generally make me happy. The chef, Anthony Rose, has got some awesome food happening, from the diner, to the lounge, to the 3rd floor, year round outdoor patio, there is yummy food going on. There are bands and theatre productions happening. The Drake is what the Albert could/should be. And every Monday night, there is 86'd hosted by Ivy Knight.

As far as I can sort out, Ivy used to be a cook, working in the kitchens in Toronto. She is cook with a knack for connecting people, writing, and being in tune with the zeitgeist. At one point, I believe she was writing about the Toronto food scene and brunches around town. She has recently started up the fantastic website, swallowfood.com. We first met when Alex and I were brought out to cook at the first annual Cheese Festival in Picton, Ontario ( www.cheesefestival.ca ). Go if you can. Seriously. Cheese in this bucolic setting with wineries every ten feet. Heaven. After the Cheese Festival, we headed to Toronto where we were staying at the Drake, and Ivy invited us to her weekly 86'd night at the Drake. Every Monday for years, Ivy has been hosting a party at the Drake on Monday nights that is connected to the restaurant industry. Whether it's a pickle and pate showdown, a raw milk film screening (complete with cookies and, sadly, pasteurized milk), a cookbook launch or an oyster night, somehow there is a connection to the industry. Hence the 86'd name: code word in restaurants for something we're out of. The first time I attended an 86'd night I thought: I want to host a party like this at my place. An irreverent, funny, pleasing night. Of course, at that point, we weren't big enough. But along came The Other Side.

When we opened The Other Side (as I have since found out it is called out in the world), I began pretty quickly trying to make this happen. I'm like a dog with a bone when I've got an idea. Fortunately, I have friends who are irreverent, funny and pleasing, and who were game to get involved. Sarah Zaharia and Talia Syrie were willing and took up the project. We decided to run it Sunday nights and decided to call it School Nights as it's the last night of fun before having to get up and get back at it. Originally, we had a 'teaching' component to tie in with the theme, but that became cumbersome. We tweaked the concept a bit and came up with a plan to have some fun food (often involving other restaurants or chefs), a fun drink, and some music. And sometimes an activity: pumpkin-carving anyone? We had a hot-sauce throw down where the crowd judges the hot sauces made by various people. We had plum-pudding and punch; spaghetti western night with spaghetti to eat and a spaghetti western film showing; poutine night (which will make a reappearance this spring); opera night where a chorus member came and sang for us and got us all singing! We have had Mariachi's Ghost, the Brothers Landreth, and Mama Cutsworth play. Every week it is a a moment to join people in an evening of snacks, drinks, and music hosted graciously by Sarah and Talia. I am proud and excited by how this event has taken on a life of its own, bringing people from all over the place to have fun in our lounge.

And so, as with the way of January, the planning has begun. School Nights begins again this Sunday. It may involve some grilled cheese. It will absolutely involve some fun, good music and nice people. The @School_Nights twitter account and Facebook pages will keep you in the loop about what were doing. Or, just stop by on a Sunday evening and be surprised and have a little fun.

Of course, School Nights is not the only project I have cooking for the lounge. I really want to do a live art show. And I want some sort of poetry reading or author event. And I want to hear ideas of what people would like. We have this space and we want to do fun, creative things in it.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Digging deep and growing


I fear jinxing it. I have a slight bit of superstition in me. Don’t pass anyone on the stairs. No shoes on the table (which seems both sensible and wise), no mixing red and white flowers, if I spill salt, over my left shoulder it goes. I grew up with my most amazing and awesome Grandma Renee who was incredibly superstitious, as well as a freakishly accurate tea leaf reader, and some of it rubbed off on me. So, I am hesitant to make note of the bistro’s state of relative calm and goodness for fear of tempting the fates. But I am going to forge ahead and make note: Bistro is looking pretty good.

The past year has been so crazy intense I couldn’t even bring myself to write about it. I felt like I was herding cats at all times: money was bonkers with the reno overbudget and the expense of operating a situation more than twice the size of the old one; staffing hit some huge snags (more about the 120% idea of staff in another post); Alex and I hit some major and near fatal bumps in our relationship; and, I was still pretty grief-stricken for my cousin. All in all, it was the most unpleasant of years.

Over the past few months, however, a slight shift has begun taking place. I am remembering how to run a business, get my feet under me. Alex and I have more good days than bad in our 24-year old relationship. We have some awesome staff who care about the bistro whole-heartedly (as did many of the former staff.) We are busy and the food is good and the service is good. School Nights has evolved into its own delighful situation, hosted so graciously by Talia and Sarah. We have once again created a good place to be.

Of course, Alex and I are not ones to sit for long. We have plans afoot. I believe we function best when stretching ourselves. In December, we did a soft launch of our Bistro To Go line. Over the years, people have asked us for jars of things we make, like fennel marmalade, tomato confit, or bacon jam and we have hunted down some form of container and sent them home with whatever their heart desired. We have formalized that process a bit. Our great day Sous-Chef, Grant, who is meticulous and a very smart cook, has embraced this project, creating jars of beautiful concoctions for folks to take home. December proved to be wildly successful for this project and we plan to expand on it. We will set the website up to sell them, I think. And we’ll see if any stores want to stock them, like our fantastic butcher, Marcello, at Marcello’s Meats (shop there – he and his family are amazing!)

We are also going to expand the Bistro To Go line into meals. Recently, our youngest has added “Hockey Mom” to my portfolio. Given that our eldest is almost 15, I felt that we had probably dodged that bullet. Yet, along comes the youngest and not only is she seriously into sports, she is freakishly good at them. And so my life has the added challenges of juggling a hockey schedule. Which, in turn, has added to my craziness around feeding the family. More than once, I have resorted to a roasted chicken from a grocery store. Not with pride but with a little bit of sadness in my heart. All of this has led me to ponder the plight of the families who are juggling 14 things and want something yummy on the table.

We are going to start by offering pre-made meals. You can stop in on your way home and get some short ribs for 4, or ½ a roasted free-range chicken, or some beef bourguignon. We will offer these with sides like mashed or scalloped potatoes, grilled polenta or some quinoa with veggies. Soups made from scratch by our cooks or homemade stocks to make your own. We are open to requests. Which I think will lead us into the next phase of this project: chef services.

Part of our renovation was putting in a large kitchen in the basement, both for prep at bistro and for our other endeavour Bistro Caters! We started Bistro Caters! a few years ago. Alex and I have always loved catering. It’s this really unique opportunity to push our creativity and hospitality into new places. No two caterings are the same and they all provide some opportunities for us to think creatively. We cater all sorts of events, from 4 person dinner parties, to cocktail parties to weddings for 300 people. Ultimately, I would love to have a party planning service but that’s not yet. For right now, we are thinking about ways to use the space and staff we have. We have two sets of really dear friends whose schedules make ours seem like play time. These friends, independently of each other, have hired chefs to cook for them a couple of times a week. Just dropped off, ready to be warmed up, plated and served. Aha!, I thought. This would be a pretty straight forward service for us to offer. And so, Bistro Chefs! is born.

And so the business keeps expanding and doing its thing and creating its own energy. Outside of that part of our lives, Alex and I have also been keen to expand our horizons. We haven’t travelled as much as we like but have had some great adventures. We fell in love with Gimli, like head-over-heels, mooning for her when we are apart, aflutter on the drive, love. We have both started writing for the new prairie on-line paper The Spectator Tribune (Alex has been able to be a bit more prolific on that front than me but I am hopeful!) And we have all sorts of cool and funky little projects started with some friends so we’ll see what shakes out of it all and will write about it as it goes.

Finally, Alex and I had a really ridiculously great opportunity this year. Alex was invited to represent Manitoba at the Canadian Chefs’ Congress. Possibly the most amazing event I have ever attended: incredible food, brilliant creative chefs, political conversation about food, land, sustainability, resources, and one or two parties. At this event, our creative juices really got going again. We are hoping to host this event in Manitoba in 2014. We got engaged in some great national-level conversations about food. And, (this is the biggie) we finally clicked on the topic for a book. Alex and I both enjoy writing and have for years tossed around the idea of what to write about. Something happened in Nova Scotia at this congress, some sparky alignment of the stars, that had us agree on what we are going to write. This past November, our newly 13yo son wrote a 50,000 word novel as part of the NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month – look it up!) event. Needless to say, there is some inspiration to be found in his accomplishment for both Alex and I. And so, an outline has been written and we have both begun our work.

Initially, I started writing this post feeling like 2012 was a disaster. And it was certainly a year of challenges and significant unpleasantness but as I come to the end of this writing, I am reframing it to be the murky place from which beautiful things will be born.