Harvest America CUES BLOG

It’s January in the Northeast – a time when the demands of the kitchen and the excitement of football converge. It’s the lull after the holidays in restaurants and the beginning of the NFL playoffs. As the chef of a busy restaurant, I know emotions in the kitchen will be high and the focus on food will be challenged by the anxiety felt by cooks hoping their team will make it to the next round. The kitchen environment is different, kind of an emulsion of emotions that are stirred up every so often, settle into a smooth sauce for a time and then need to be shaken on occasion just as a football game ebb and flows throughout four quarters of play. I have learned, over many years, to avoid trying to “correct” the environment and simply find a way to adapt. So, today, a busy Friday service will be a challenge. The first round of the post-season is underway this weekend and energy levels in the kitchen will be all over the place. I walk through the kitchen doors at 7am and can already feel the difference.

“Good morning, Jake (my very adept breakfast cook who has been jumping and jiving on the line since well before 6), how are you doing? “Jake turns and responds: “Yo, chef, I’m all set, in position, and on the line of scrimmage.” Okay, the football lingo has begun. I respond in kind. “No false starts this morning and pay attention to managing the game clock.” I smile at my quick retort.

Walking over toward the bakeshop I hear Jake respond to a server’s question regarding timing until her order is up. “Omaha, Omaha, hut, hut….go long!” And then I catch the sound of plated orders sliding down the stainless shelf of the pass. Ugh, “the pass”, I guess I’m into the feel of the moment already.

The bakeshop is quiet and calm, but breakfast pastries and the aroma of fresh baked breads fills the air. “Sara, how’s your workload today?” She stares me down and proclaims: “You’ve entered the neutral zone chef – step back before I throw a flag.” Then a smile draws across her face, and she starts to laugh.

Wow, I think, this is going to be a long day.

Through my morning work, the banter continues as I try to immerse myself in the tasks at hand and avoid jumping into the soup kettle of puns and innuendo. At the end of service Jake slides a plate of over-easy eggs, bacon, home fries and toast onto my desk, and says: “Breakfast went well, it always does when I have homefield advantage. I’m going to “blitz” the kitchen now before the second string arrives for dinner prep.” I just shake my head and wave him out.

The evening team of pirates arrives around 1pm and swaggers into the kitchen. They are, like in most kitchens, a proud, over-confident, somewhat egotistical workaholic group with winning as their only objective. “What’s up chef! Lookin forward to kickoff tonight – lots of reservations.  The rest of your secondary is ready to tackle the mise en place.” So, the banter continues.

“Great, just make sure you don’t choke in the red zone tonight. Remember last Friday everything went well until that last table. You guys fumbled on that one.” The crew laughed at the rhetoric. I was proud of my quick football chops on that one.

In one respect, the football undertones help to make light of the tremendous amount of work ahead. Kitchens are never easy and every day we start fresh with a new set of challenges. This team is great, just like the playoff football teams that we all cheer on.

The intensity is palpable as the clock runs down to the first orders of the night. Clock management is just as important in the kitchen as it is on the gridiron. At 5pm we huddled for a pre-meal inspection of stations and review of features with the front-of-the-house special teams. Everything was in good shape as I handed off the game ball to my sous chef. He would be handling “audible” calls at the expeditor station tonight. I gave an inspired locker room speech to the team:

“I don’t know what to say, really. Three minutes till we open the restaurant doors and one of the biggest battles of your professional lives. Either we heal as a team or we’re going to crumble. Inch by inch, order by order, dish by dish until we’re finished. We are in cooks’ hell right now, ladies and gentlemen. We can play it safe and get the shit kicked out of us, or we can fight our way into the light. We can climb out of hell, one order at a time. Now, I can’t do it for you, I’m too old.”

One of the cooks shouts out: “You’ve got that right.” Everyone laughs and my sous chef says: “Okay, good Al Pacino impersonation – now let’s get to work.”

I break the mood with an apology:

“Sorry to have some of you work this weekend with all the games taking place, but business calls. The newest cook on the fry station pipes in: “That’s okay chef, I’m not really into football.” Suddenly, you can hear a pin drop except for the ticking of the first orders from the POS. Line cooks are shaking their heads and the sous chef says: “Man, I don’t even know you. That cuts to the heart like a blown pass play for the win. Just make sure you don’t fumble when the ball comes your way tonight.” In that moment, I knew this young cook would have an uphill battle regaining the respect from the team. A rookie mistake.

My final words as the orders were ticking away was “Stay in the pocket tonite. Your teammates will protect you and please avoid any interceptions by the service team. Omaha, Omaha, one-two-three. Go team!

Good luck keeping your team focused the next few weekends and may the best team win (as long as it’s the Bills). Where would you rather be than right here, right now?

To my readers – sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

PLAN BETTER – TRAIN HARDER – PROTECT THE BALL

Harvest America Ventures, LLC

Restaurant Consulting

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