It was one of those rare moments at the end of service, nothing pressing on your desk, menus were done, inventories posted, schedules made, and another service in the hopper. This was a moment of peace and relative quiet. The last orders were in the pass and the line team was breaking down their mise en place and beginning to strip and clean their stations. You had your usual end of day glass of wine in hand and sat back in the chef’s chair for a chance to reflect.

You’d been doing this for longer than anything else in your life. Some forty years of tying on an apron, polishing shoes, sharpening knives, and stressing about everything from the quality of produce arriving the next day to some quirky challenges with food cost. There is a love hate relationship that we all share when it comes to the work we do. Yes, the love far outweighs the hate, but there are moments when you question your life decisions. This is not one of those moments.

You look around the kitchen and marvel at the amount of work that takes place each day on stainless tables, in 500-degree ovens, on open flames, and in dozens of pots and pans washed and rewashed countless times. Line cooks are elbow deep in buckets of soapy water as they work scrub brushes and green pads cutting through another shift of carbon build up and spatters of oil and clarified butter. These cooks are amazing. The work is physically hard, mentally challenging, emotionally pressing, and relentless. From the time they arrive, around noon, until the lights are shut off at 11 p.m. or so, they never slow down. You admire them, respect them, and relish who they are. They have become like family and as such you worry about them, sometimes lose your temper with them, critique them, try to teach them, and always feel pride in how they step up each and every day.

After months and sometimes years of working together you get to know them, the persons under the façade of cook. You know things about their families, their likes and dislikes, their insecurities and the failures that haunt them, but most importantly, you know that it is this work and the love of being part of a team that brings them back each day.

You decide to walk through the kitchen during these last moments and take it all in. The smells of caramelized meat, of rich sauce work, onions, garlic, rich clarified butter, and fresh herbs still clings in the air. You breathe deep, they are smells that never get old, the smells of a cook’s world. Unconsciously you wipe your hands across the stainless prep tables in the back and the inner walls of a vegetable sink – clean, polished, and dry. Opening the walk-in mise en place cooler you let the door close behind you. From left to right you look at rows of clear containers properly labeled, dated and rotated – first in, first out. It took you years to build a kitchen culture around organization, now it is the way everyone works. You smile knowing that ingredients are respected and taken care of as they should.

As you walk through each department the remaining cooks smile and either nod, give you a thumbs up, or say – “It was a good service, Chef.” This is an important part of the day, your chance to say thanks to everyone and let them know how much you admire them. You know that some will continue to grow and seek new opportunities. There is little doubt that a few will someday hold the position that you do, some might even own their own place in the future. Others may be content with their current position in the brigade and that is great – there is an important place for everyone in the kitchen.

Cooks are writing their prep lists for tomorrow, rolling up floor mats so the night cleaners can more easily wash floors, and giving each other fist bumps and high fives. They are still on an adrenaline high as they shake your hand and walk out the back door, likely headed for a neighborhood bar for a drink or two before heading home. Now it’s just you and the dishwashers. You hang up your chef’s coat and jump into the dish pit to help distribute clean dishes to various parts of the kitchen, polish a few trays of flatware, and help your “clean team” push through those last few racks of China. It’s only twenty minutes or so, but you know they appreciate seeing you work alongside them.

As they finish mopping the floors and dragging cans of trash out to the dumpster you write yourself a few sticky note reminders for tomorrow, shut down your computer, put on your favorite NFL sweatshirt, and turn off the HVAC and banks of kitchen lights. It’s time for this world to sleep, at least for a few hours. Your baker will arrive by 4 a.m. and then the process will start all over again.

You look back one more time and consider how lucky you are. You work with great people who are hardworking and passionate; people who feel comfortable and safe in this environment; and people who are immensely talented even if they don’t always admit it to themselves. You are part of a team with a common mission that involves communicating through food. You help to make guests forget their challenges for a short period of time, raise a glass, break bread, and laugh out of the joy of being with others who share their passion. You know that the work is hard and unforgiving at times, but as the NFL coach Marv Levy always asked: “Where would you rather be than right here, right now.”

PLAN BETTER – TRAIN HARDER

Harvest America Ventures, LLC

Restaurant Consulting

www.harvestamericacues.com  BLOG

(Over 900 articles about the business and people of food)