I've been struggling lately until someone forced me to remember that "all is, essential, well" and sometimes I just need to get out of my own way.
excerpt from 'Kanji in the Kitchen'
11 ~ Be Where You’re at,
Have What You Have
Or, no
matter where you go, there you are.
“The most precious gift we can offer others is our
presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like
flowers.”
~ Thich Nhat Hanh
It’s always works out perfectly even
if we don’t know what that looks like, especially when going through a
particularly stressful situation, like the one I experienced early in my career
at Charley’s Crab in Ft.
Lauderdale back in the
early 90’s.
Back then it was a highly regarded operation
that was all about balancing quality with volume. There was a special kind of
madness that ruled this very busy restaurant as will happen when young men have
a little too much power and not enough common sense. Greg had come from Colorado with his young
family for a fresh start and he was clearly over qualified for the position but
to my amazement and relief he accepted the position. He worked for me as my
Sous Chef and it was, all in all, a grand time for all involved.
At one point as I was cutting fish in
the cooler and as Greg was counting out his line stock for the night he quietly
said to me that I was the first Chef he had worked with that he hadn’t actively
tried to burn down. He hadn’t stopped counting his fish as he spoke
matter-of-factly, never really explaining why but I somehow got that it was
some sort of compliment. I didn’t say a word and he kept right on setting up
his line,
Somewhere between expediting 300 early
birds, doing shots of tequila at the service bar, stripping naked at the beach and Alan Zimmer playing a Blues in E on the
piano in the dining room for his Sunday night guests dressed in just his
underwear and clogs, three years went by and it was time to part ways.
Greg had finally got the promotion to
his own store that he so richly deserved. By that time Zim had washed out,
Sparky had been canned and Doc did just what he had to do to get by each shift
with his sanity.
Greg left at the beginning of the
busiest quarter of the year. It felt like we were getting divorced and I got
the kids and yet life, funny enough, went on. The restaurant needs went on
unabated and there were still guests to be fed, crew to lead and owners to
satisfy. Simply said, the show still had to go on albeit at a disproportionate
disadvantage.
The
separation had been a potent and effective force within the little social
laboratory that was our kitchen; Greg had an excellent skill set, a mystical
sense of taste, a great sense of humor and a tenacity to get the job done
regardless of the circumstances unlike any I had been party to before.
A man, I’m sure you would agree,
that would be sorely missed, by none more so than me for I drew strength from
him as a professional and a sense of community from him as a person. Into this
breach I found myself, a little less sure and a bit more stressed. His absence
necessitated a drastic shift to the game plan, crew schedule and major changes
to the priority list of things to keep an eye on, which egos to massage and
practically anything else required getting through the next shift.
The person most affected by this
change was me but not in the ways I might have previously thought. Sure, I’d
worked seven days for the last three weeks but I had found myself somehow
mysteriously charged and energetic; able to knock down twelve hours in a single
bound although my body moaned inwardly a little more than in the past when I
used to throw myself around the kitchen with wild abandon, sacrificing all else
for the sake of that last plate up banquet.
Perhaps more painful of all was the
sacrifice I made to my wife and children, short lived as it may be. While my
career situation changes from year to year their presence in my life does not
and all that they require is merely my presence, nothing greater or less. Even
they found constructive ways with which to use their new found time together.
It had been a challenge day after
day; keeping focused on the most immediate need while somehow coming up with
the solution of how I would staff two carving stations at the same time when I
had no one available, save a dishwasher or two.
I had always appreciated all that
Greg had done and shifting his responsibilities onto myself as well as working
at accomplishing all that I had to do those past weeks was a frustrating white
knuckled experience given that we were up 15% over the last year and up 15%
each and every year for the past three.
While the increased revenue makes for
happy owners, crew with overtime and guests who get to experience an operation
on its game, those kind of numbers puts an incredible burden on staff morale,
physical plant integrity and FFE inventories.
So much so that one wonders if the
damage done could be repaired to heart and hearth until, that is, when you hear
the echo of honest laughter coming from the pantry and in that raw moment you
know, it’s all going to end up fine.
Suffice it to say that there was
more irony apparent here than I wanted to look at then, but look, I did.
As much chaos as a change like this
can breed it can also be fertile ground in which plant the seeds of greatness.
Changes such as these often become
highly charged catalysts, bringing about a positive change with far greater
ramifications than had only been dreamed of. Suddenly the possibility to move
the mission forward in significant and substantial ways loomed just over the
horizon, more attainable than ever before.
Crew who had been chomping at the
bit to show the true measure of their mettle now had the opportunity to make
their voices heard. A chance to reconcile attitudes and abilities; entering
into a commitment of creating real growth through coaching or mentor-ship, to
really show them just how valuable they were to us by increasing their value
through training, both on site and off, a plan that would get them to where
they dreamt to be. Systems that heretofore had been merely acceptable could now
go through an evolution so that they, not only, could quantify the information
but make it accessible and, low and behold, understandable.
We are all too often simply human
and with all things being equal and given just enough time to make anything a
‘routine’, we fall into a place of comfort. Comfort being different from
complacency though both can be dangerous without careful consideration.
Several months later I stood on a
Saturday night and marveled at the man/metal organism that was that kitchen,
alive, organic, pulsing, as it danced its way through the night’s reservation
list with a grace and effectiveness that made short work of orders and special
requests; precision incarnate.
At that moment I knew that this was
going to be the crew that took us through season, breaking numbers without
breaking a sweat.
The crew had changed, not for the
worse, but for the better. Nobody’s fault, none right or wrong, it just was.
The loss of one of its leaders had not deterred this group of individuals
brought together for a common purpose but instead reunited them, reinvigorated
them, recommitted them to the mission that they, together, chose to make
manifest every day that they punched the clock and donned their aprons.
Be where
you’re at, have what you have.
Never had I heard more valuable words
for I knew there were times when I was, and when I wasn’t. Then I knew, at any
moment, I could choose to be present and connected. Sometimes it isn’t pretty
but it’s so much better than arguing for your circumstances.
New blood and renewed exercise can
bring back damaged muscle and repair it; maybe not to what it was but it often
builds into something new. It becomes capable of things that it never could
have accomplished before, regardless of the effort used to bring it about. I
could have easily slipped into melancholy about what I had lost or how things
could have been different but in the end I chose to have what I have, be
present and look for the opportunities that existed right there before me.
Something to be said for change,
hard as it may be for the heart to bear at times; or so some of us would have
us believe. ¨