One of the things I like about my job is that there is a finish line at the end of the day. It’s easy to know when the work is done and how I did along the way. I know that when the gentleman at 62 shakes my hand and tells me that’s the best pork shoulder he’s ever had, I can assume he means it and that we did our job in the kitchen as we should have. Maybe he’s lying, but I doubt it.
Another thing I get to do after the finish line is to recount how the day progressed. Like now, sitting at my bar with a plate of our Prairie Sushi Rolls and an Old Stock, I remind myself of the guy who came back to the kitchen and with a puzzled look on his face asked me, “Where did you get the idea for the pavlova?” I had to be honest and say that pavlova is an egg white meringue and is fairly common in pastry baking. “My grandmother made that dessert, and I haven’t had it in 30 years. You took me back to a good memory of her. Thank you. Thanks so much.”
This is what I do for a living. I take people places.
I used to think it was prideful to retell these kinds of stories, and for certain, my enemies may pin that one on me, but my friends know how to rejoice when I rejoice. Celebration is and should be a natural part of life’s ebb and flow. I’m glad I have a job that has that opportunity built in, if I choose to take it.
I seldom post links to stories, but this one really applies more than most. It’s a New York Times article by Matthew Crawford titled, The Case for Working With Your Hands. It’s a fascinating look at the importance of having something from which you can derive satisfaction and pride. This makes more sense to me the older I get.
It was a good night of making food and making people happy. If you’ve never been in to bread&cup, I hope I get the chance to serve you soon.