LIFE’S MOMENTS
I recall being fascinated by food from my earliest childhood. My great-grandmother was the most deft, generous and comforting of southern cooks. Her fried chicken, pickles, greens, "Goulash", rice, walnut cake et al were what I dreamt about all week looking forward to dinner Saturday afternoon at her house.
My mother and grandmother both had African-American cooks come in to their homes to prepare their specialties for parties. I recall strongly helping prepare (standing on a chair, probably 5 years old) an all-time favorite baked clam canapé that I still imagine tasting today.
The truth is the people preparing the food and serving the food, polishing the silver, mixing the drinks and really hosting the guests is who I related to immediately. When I started working in kitchens and later dining rooms and behind bars (read as you wish) I was there first and foremost for the staff that were working with me and later the staff working for me. We shared this great secret of what went on before the curtain was drawn up and after it fell at the end of the evening.
A few years (read decades) has taught me other things in the especially sneaky way that time does.
Recently I was leaving Petit Louis early in the day after checking in with the prep staff and sous chef that run the morning operation. I noticed a regular guest on Roland Avenue laboring through a morning jog. It seemed to me that he seemed a few years older than I last recalled. I was compelled to think about his visits to my places over the years beginning with Savannah 13 years ago. As I thought about all of the life events he'd shared with me, I was stunned: dating his wife, a birthday party she threw for him at Savannah, first visits to Charleston after they married, business success, news of family illness and then death, his wife's illness and successful treatment, sale of his business, many visitors and friends from overseas, family holidays and on and on. I was just amazed by the intimacy of our relationship. What an unsuspecting honor. I was and am daunted by the place that our restaurants hold in the lives of our guests.
I feel as though I began my professional work for my own pleasure. Then it became as important or even more pleasurable to watch my staff enjoy success and accomplishment. Now the pleasure of our guests moves me the most. What do you know; I may grow up despite myself.
My mother and grandmother both had African-American cooks come in to their homes to prepare their specialties for parties. I recall strongly helping prepare (standing on a chair, probably 5 years old) an all-time favorite baked clam canapé that I still imagine tasting today.
The truth is the people preparing the food and serving the food, polishing the silver, mixing the drinks and really hosting the guests is who I related to immediately. When I started working in kitchens and later dining rooms and behind bars (read as you wish) I was there first and foremost for the staff that were working with me and later the staff working for me. We shared this great secret of what went on before the curtain was drawn up and after it fell at the end of the evening.
A few years (read decades) has taught me other things in the especially sneaky way that time does.
Recently I was leaving Petit Louis early in the day after checking in with the prep staff and sous chef that run the morning operation. I noticed a regular guest on Roland Avenue laboring through a morning jog. It seemed to me that he seemed a few years older than I last recalled. I was compelled to think about his visits to my places over the years beginning with Savannah 13 years ago. As I thought about all of the life events he'd shared with me, I was stunned: dating his wife, a birthday party she threw for him at Savannah, first visits to Charleston after they married, business success, news of family illness and then death, his wife's illness and successful treatment, sale of his business, many visitors and friends from overseas, family holidays and on and on. I was just amazed by the intimacy of our relationship. What an unsuspecting honor. I was and am daunted by the place that our restaurants hold in the lives of our guests.
I feel as though I began my professional work for my own pleasure. Then it became as important or even more pleasurable to watch my staff enjoy success and accomplishment. Now the pleasure of our guests moves me the most. What do you know; I may grow up despite myself.
posted by Moderator at 4:58 PM
1 Comments:
A pleasure to read. How special.
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