You’re going to have a night like this.  Trust me, it’s going to happen. Better to spend your effort on deciding how to deal with it rather than fretting over how to prevent it.  Your best laid plans to do so will get squashed, leaving you without a well formed answer.

The standard ebb and flow in the season of our business is that in the winter, Friday is typically our busiest night, and in the summer, Saturday gets the most traffic.  We assume this is due to the fact that folks don’t want to venture back down our way again on Saturday in the cold weather.  This pattern has been consistent since the beginning.

Until this weekend.

We keep our little kitchen open until 10pm on the weekends, but usually the steady flow for dinner ends around 9pm and those coming in later are for drinks and dessert.  But the proverbial tour bus stopped and our dining room filled all at once, taxing our 6 burner stove, and depleting some of our supply.

It’s an awful feeling to watch the service collapse, like a domino effect, knowing you will not be able to satisfy the eager customers, many of who might be visiting for the first time.

So chef, what do you do when that happens?  You feel horrible, ashamed, and fearful this will be the start of your ruin. The conversation in your head ensues, and the dialogue turns into self loathing.  You rush to beat yourself up before anyone else does. Misery loves company, and all those negative voices in your head prove it.

But chef, this is not wise.  Take control of the mental exchange and exercise self leadership.  Here are a few things I suggest:

Be honest about the situation.  There is a veil that that is hung between the front and the back of the house.  That curtain is in place to shield your customers from the heat of the kitchen.  They are in the house to be served and shown a good time.  They don’t need to know your pressure or if you are in the weeds.  It’s your job, chef, to keep that under control and make the customer happy.

But in those times it does slip beyond your control, like running out of food or getting so far behind can’t make a timely delivery, be honest and let your customer know what is going on.  Acknowledge the failure.  Point out the elephant in the room.  It doesn’t change what is crumbling, but at least the truth of the moment is admitted.

Make amends. Offer free drinks.  Bring a free appetizer during the wait.  Comp the whole meal if you have to.  Better to lose a few bucks on the ticket than to add insult to injury and make someone pay for a poor experience.  Your reputation is worth the pricetag.

It’s not the end of the world.  One night won’t tank you, unless you fail to learn from it.  Danny Meyer says that the road to success is paved with mistakes well handled.  They will happen.  Spend your energy on crafting a strategy to not repeat the collapse than on beating yourself up.

Reread your commendations.  I keep a file of cards, letters and notes that grateful customers have left for us.  When the low point hits, I review some of that feedback to remind myself that an evening like this is not the norm.  We have done better, we can do better and we will do better.  Stay rooted in what you know to be true.

Open your best bottle.  Will Guidara writes in his 11 Madison Park cookbook about some advice a customer once gave him; “I save my best bottles for my worst days.” The applied meaning is that we all need a little cheering up, in whatever form that may be.  Don’t just wait for the good times.  Find the source of beauty that puts a smile back on your face.

And do we ever grow out of it?  Of course not.

It’s simple human nature; we all want to be liked for who we are and what we do.  If you like what we do, then you must like us, and that acceptance feels very, very good.  This is important to understand; else we will make someone pay for our experience of unfound validation.

I put some things on our menu that are uncommon.  From time to time you’ll see items such as rabbit, quail, chicken liver, and pork heart interspersed among the more recognizable beef, pork and chicken dishes.  I don’t expect everyone to accept them all because everyone has a different palette.  A woman once told me she abhorred goat cheese because of the smell of it that she remembered as a child.  I can accept that. Those memories run deep.  They represent preferences, of which I want to be aware.

When I set something in front of you, I need to be mindful of its quality as well as your preference.  Did you reject the dish because it grossed you out, or because we cooked it poorly?  If you are not pleased, we’ve not done our job, regardless of what we serve you.

If you’ve eaten at my restaurant, especially in the evening, you’ve probably seen me wander out of the kitchen and into the dining area to survey your reaction.  I do this because I want to know if we are hitting the mark or not.  And that mark is your satisfaction and happiness.  I realize it’s sometimes awkward to have someone interrupt your meal to ask, “How is everything?”  It’s not easy to say what you really feel in that moment, especially if the food or experience is subpar, but I invite you to let us know what you think.  I really want to know if you are pleased or not.

When we catch the mistakes we’ve made, we can correct them on the spot.  Recently we had a temperature error on an entrée, resulting in a delay of service; I took care of the customer personally.  He thanked me and said ours is his favorite restaurant in town.  I told him I want to keep it that way.

Good question.  And it’s one that I actually learned how to answer several years ago, long before I entered the restaurant business.  It was a lesson in decision making that I remember from my days in college.

I don’t know why it made such an impact on me, but I was listening to a man lecture on time management and he made this statement that stood out and stayed with me these many years.  He said:

Make a decision and make it right

He explained that we should not put so much burden and worry on ourselves about whether or not we made the right decision. Instead, in some cases we should just once and for all decide what our response will be, regardless of circumstance. His simple point?  Locking his car doors. The speaker found that every time he got out of his car, he went through a little mental debate on whether or not he is parking in a place that should require the extra safety of locking up. (Note of context, this would have been in the days before electronic door locks and remote controls.) Instead of deliberating about locking the car or not, he said he just decided to always lock them.

Decision made. No need to revisit it. It will be the right call from now on.

I feel that way about keeping the restaurant open.  I could calculate the pros and cons of doing so, of whether or not it would be profitable, or about various safety concerns.  I could wonder if anyone will show, or I could just decide that I will always be open and be done with the conversation.  Make the decision and make it right, and let it stand, and carry on with business.

If you were to compare some of the music of John Coltrane to the world of food, I think you would be safe to place him in the category of today’s gastromolecular chef.  Both produce a distinct, out-of-the-ordinary experience for its prospective audiences.  Both are easily misunderstood. And I would add that both probably felt a compulsion to create that drives them beyond the norm.

Coltrane was a contemporary of Miles Davis in the late fifties, just at the time Davis was exploring the cool jazz sounds that would reach forward decades later and put his fingerprints on artist like Steely Dan and the electronic sounds of techno, house and trip-hop.   Coltrane took the keys to the musical vehicle that Davis handed him and put the pedal to the metal.  He found such freedom in expression in the modal jazz form that he often did not know when to quit.  It is said of the days when the two played together live, that Davis might leave the stage and take a seat at the bar as Coltrane began his solo.  At one particular gig, forty five minutes later, Davis would return to the stage once Coltrane was finished.  This created some tension at times, to which Coltrane defended himself by saying, “I just don’t know when to finish.”  Miles retorted with a snap, “Just take the damn horn outta your mouth, man!”

Much of Coltrane’s music does not make it on a playlist for the restaurant; else I would have too many people with puzzled looks asking to turn it down.  It is not ordinarily accessible.  It is “extra“-ordinary.  It does what all great jazz should do; it makes you think about what is being played.  It creates a statement. It is not background music. It is not to be ignored.

To appreciate the music of Coltrane is to be willing to step deeply into his theory and practice and understand the thought behind the seeming cacophony.  There was method to his madness and that method, much like some chefs, requires thought and engagement

It’s a goal of mine to have more Coltrane encounters this year.  Whether its food or music, I don’t want to take either for granted.  I want to be near the kitchen or near the stage of thoughtful, engaged creators that believe in their craft so passionately that to overlook it would be an ignorant transgression.

The older I get, the less I want to take life for granted.

Music is an important part of creating an environment of hospitality. Just as the food and service must be consistent in quality, it’s my personal opinion that the music heard in a restaurant needs to have a consistent genre or vibe to it. What you hear develops expectation, however subtle or subconscious it may be.

We often get the question, “who’s that playing right now?” So I decided to list 24 of my favorite artists/discs that set the mood for the bread&cup experience. Most are available on iTunes, Amazon or the service I primarily use, eMusic. I have listed the genre, a brief description and a one song definition that you should sample to get a good idea of the artist in one shot.

Though I’m probably too old, I lean toward the hipster on this list, as I take pride in finding stuff you’ve never heard of.

I’m into making goals and resolutions, so if you’re not, bear with me. Maybe I can make my point without being that guy.

One thing I’ve learned this year about leading people is the very thing that The Gallup Organization has figured out years ago; everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and the best course of action is to try and get people into a realm where they can express those strengths easily.  To focus only on strengths without giving attention to weaknesses may seem like neglectful management, and it is if the weaknesses are never first acknowledged and understood.

Dealing with Karen’s cancer over the last year and a half has led me to view our marriage in a completely different light.  It has caused me to lean on her strengths more and more rather than to bicker over the ways she is not like me.  More than once I found the question hovering over me in the darker moments, “What would I do without her?”  This was a sobering realization.

With us, we are two extremes.  I am time-conscious. She is list-conscious.  When the movie starts at 5, I want to be in my seat by ten til.  For her, if the movie starts at 5, it doesn’t matter because she still needs to unload the dishwasher, finish the laundry and let the dog out one more time. I hate being late; she hates not getting things done now. As you can imagine, this is good fodder for conflict.  But the more I understand how much I need that balance, the more I am able to see it as a strength.

I can get the big things done, like changing careers and opening a restaurant. But for some reason I procrastinate on the little stuff, like keeping the garage organized, or cleaning out the gutters, or vacuuming out the car. On the other hand, Karen can plow through the to-do list like a hot knife through butter.  She dislikes the abstract, mental work that I get immersed in, and instead prefers the concrete, practical tasks that each day presents.  I need this balance, and value its worth more and more each day.  Too bad it took a crisis for me to discover.

As with most of my writing, I am my first audience.  I write to speak to myself, to clarify thoughts I’ve been mulling over.  In this way, this type of public musing makes me accountable for the change that I want to undergo.  Keeping it buried doesn’t create urgency.  I think I’m this way because I hate starting something I can’t finish.  It’s why I put things off until later. A half baked project is just a monument of all talk and no follow through to completion.

I’m not sure how this will play itself out into a measurable goal or resolution, but at least it provides the borders around which the ideas can grow.

Best of luck to you all in 2012.  May you bloom where you are planted.

This event filled up quickly last year, so I encourage you to make plans soon. We’ll set the table; you

New Year’s Eve

6PM and 8:30PM
40 dollars per person – 60 dollars w/ chef’s wine pairing
by reservation only
Call 402-438-2255

First
Spinach & Arugula Salad
-grana padano, dried cranberries, almonds, maple bacon vinaigrette
2007 Wolf Gewürztraminer Germany

Roasted Tomato & Corn Soup
-sourdough crostini, cilantro oil
2009 Abraxas White Blend California

Entrees
Plum Creek Farm Chicken in Lemongrass Curry
-butternut squash, wild rice, micro arugula
2010 Poet’s Leap Riesling Colombia Valley, Washington

Braised Beef Short Ribs
-Mushrooms, Roasted New Potatoes, Green Beans, Crispy Shallot
2009 The Prisoner Napa, California

Hickory Smoked Berkshire Pork Loin
-risotto, snow peas, black garlic
2007 Baileyana Pinot Noir Edna Valley, CA

Goat Cheese Tortellini
-dried tomato, pine nuts, scallions, shallot, garlic cream
2010 Docil Vinho Verde Portugal

Finish
Salted Caramel Toffee Custard
2005 Romieu-Lacoste Sauternes France

Dark Chocolate Ice Cream w/ Almond Tuile Cone
Norval Black ruby port / Rochefort 10

My industry certainly has its ups and down, but one thing that settles me and makes me glad is that at least you aren’t able to download a meal, nor does it appear that you will be anytime soon. The need for food is still a fundamental human requirement and there is no substitute for drawing together around a table to share conversation over simple food and drink.

It struck me the other day at how much change our current society must undergo just to stay conversant in the modern language of business and social interaction. The amount of irrelevant tasks and knowledge you and I have discarded would not be comprehended by a person living a hundred years ago.

I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, or if it’s just a thing, because I don’t imagine it will slow down anytime soon. But this constant reinvention of how I will carry out my daily life seems on the one hand unsustainable, and quite possibly, unfruitful. Consider these introductions and retirements of the recent past:

Landline/cell phone/smart phone – I remember getting my first cell phone about 13 years ago. It was huge, but novel at the time. It took me forever to master T9, and now that skill is irrelevant. When it dawned on us that every person in our household had a phone, we finally cancelled our landline service. We don’t even miss it or ever find ourselves needing it.

Facebook/Twitter – These are such recent phenomenons that even my tech savvy kids can tell me about the lame olden days before Facebook. The most common question I hear from people who don’t have an account with these two services is “Do I really need it?” I’ll address that below.

Online commerce – I seldom write checks anymore, nor send any kind of bill payment in the mail. It’s all done online. I make purchases weekly for supplies for my kitchen, for spice orders, for equipment parts, etc.

Texting – Are you like me and find yourself texting someone first to see if you can call them? Texting has changed the simple practice of talking on the phone.

Change is something every generation must address, Folks had to adapt to the motorcar when they probably thought the horse and buggy worked just fine. It just so happens that our generation is facing an overabundance of these same kinds of demands. The general rule I keep in mind is this: will I let these rule me or will I allow them to serve me?

I regularly take inventory here in this last month of the year as I look back over the goals I set for myself and my business. I see what I accomplished and what didn’t get done. And this year I include in this account an assessment of the invasiveness of technology. Where do I need to cordon off a boundary so that technology doesn’t creep past, like varmints into the henhouse? Here are a few technological boundaries I have set:

1. I refuse to do email on my phone. It does not need to have that kind of access to my immediate attention. The phone keeps me in contact, esp. in emergencies, like yesterday morning when my daughter called and said she was stuck on the ice. In this way, the phone serves me, not vice versa

2. Facebook – Do you need one or not? Again, ask the question, “Does it serve you, or are you its slave?” Karen had an account for a short time but eventually felt an obligation to it. When I reminded her it was OK to cancel it, and that life would return to normal, she was amazed at how quickly a person can get drawn into something so trivial.

3. Creating quiet space. How instinctive has it become to get in the car and turn on the radio out of habit rather than wanting to listen to a particular program or music? Or to turn on the TV or CD player at home to fill the silence? I am seeking more quiet space. I enjoy writing when it’s quiet. In this way, I can hear more.

http://youtu.be/S3P9R0MgVjA