Written by  ,     November 15, 2012     Posted in Business, Restaurant, The Lighter Side

Warning Mom:  Bad language follows.  (It’s germaine to the story, I swear it)

Many years ago, as our executive chef was coming up, as sous chef, he was overseeing a function.  It was time for dessert, and there were not enough for all the guests.  Two short?  Three?  I don’t remember specifically, but that’s the gist.

When word got back to the head chef and owner–then, and still, a giant in the Boston dining scene, he said to Rob;

“How did you come up short?”
Rob replied honestly: “The pastry chef was told how many desserts we needed Chef”
The succssful executive chef inquired further: “And you didn’t count them yourself?”
Rob, more honesty: “No Chef, I did not”
The boss, maximum honesty: “Well then, you’re a fucking idiot”

There are many lessons worth learning–and a few deliveries that you never forget.


Fast foward to current day “pirate” banter, as chef and I chatted about kitchen personnel…

He: “What’s with all the text message bullshit?”
Me: “It’s out of control.  How can you cook if you’re texting?”
He: “I had a former cook call me and ask if I had any available hours to give on Sundays.  I said yes, actually, that would be great, see you on Sunday.  Hours later I get a text from him.  It says “Chat?”  What the fuck?!  Why do we have to chat?  Why does everyone want to chat all the time.  You asked, I answered, now get your ass to work.”

Seriously, put the damn phone down.

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