Towards the end of my days in the winery, it gets to a point where I realize I’m taking up space more than helping out. The other two members of my team are there- one usually plugging away at whatever events are going out soon, and one getting their station ready to handle restaurant business for the night and getting up to speed- events, reservations for the night, VIPs and the like they’ll need to see coming.

A sign of good training and good people is when they leap into work on their own without the need for supervision- and the sign of a good manager is when they know their job is done for the time being. A leader’s job is to train, support, and provide for their team so that they can do their jobs well. That means providing materials, guidance, information, time, manpower, whatever is required. I believe the first and last question a leader of any group needs to ask is “How can I help you succeed?” Frequently, in my case, the answer to that question becomes “Go do something else and step aside. We’ve got it from here, we’ll call if there’s an issue.”

I’m very lucky to have a team- even a small one- that can look at me and say that, and I know I’m the one that has to put my ego down. Life and work are better when you have good people with you- and you are grateful for those people.

Two days ago, I took the hint and slouched back toward the office on the other side of the building. Peeling off my apron and side towels, I checked the lines of my jacket quickly and took my hands out of my pockets. It was late enough that I was going to be walking through the entryway, and guests were milling around waiting for their tables or chatting.

They were dolled up for a night out at a winery and were going to be paying for an Experience. I’ll admit to being a little vain- any writer or creative has to have some level of narcissism born into them- but as much a deal as the customers are making of coming out to the restaurant, I feel like I can at least look the part. A clean jacket, not bunched up near my shoulders or around my belly, and walking purposefully with a small smile. Stepping out of the kitchen for even a minute, everything about my demeanor should say “I’ve done a very good job just now. I know it, and soon you will too.” Equanimity, confidence, and poise can be as important flavorings in fine dining as pepper, sage, and lemon zest.

Slipping through a couple “Staff Only” doors, I make it to the office. I’m not so important that I have my own computer or desk, but enough to have access. I flop into the chair of the common-use desk, drop my hat and notebook to the side, and let out an exasperated groan. It’s been a hell of a month, with day after day of recounting and rechecking my production totals. It wouldn’t do to miss an event’s desserts. I was ready for the season, I know- but I’m fucking exhausted.

“Do we have enough pears to top the chocolate cakes?”
“Shit, we’re out of pecans… what can I sub in for a deco on these?”
“That freezer is a hot mess. Gonna have to dig through and get a count on olive oil cake tomorrow.”
“I never want to see, smell, or touch any kind of custard in a shot glass for as long as I live.”

“How long, O Lord, how long?” is the question I need to answer right now though. Logging into the computer and clicking through the various boxes, I make it to our event scheduling service. What’s coming down the pike? The sooner I can tell my team how much of what we need to make when the better.

A nearly empty weekly schedule fills my screen. A couple VIP groups, a last Christmas party for a small family… that’s all.

The finish line. We made it.

After Christmas and New Year’s Eve, the banquet season is over till practically Easter. It’s the blessing AND the curse of seasonal work like ours and ending a season is always bittersweet. In one sense, we are all exhausted and a bit of downtime feels like just what the doctor ordered. I know I’m going to enjoy having a bit more time and energy to bend toward other projects, and maybe do some R+D for the spring menu.

Bills still have to be paid, though. The end of the banquet season means business- and therefore scheduled hours- will go off a cliff, and everyone in the kitchen will have to negotiate that as best as they can. Some cooks save up all the PTO they can over the year to take vacations in the dead season, or doling it back into their paychecks to supplement the lack of work. Others take part-time, contract, or freelance work to keep the rent paid.

I’ll be okay- Emily keeps working, so our bills will be paid while I’m opening myself up to more freelance writing, editing, teaching and/or consulting work (hint hint hint.) My team, however, will need to start thinking of what to do for themselves. I do my best to provide whatever I can for them, but I can’t drag people through the doors and make them pay us to work.

I’ve already had talks with the executive chef. He’s in the same boat I am, but higher up. Everyone will lose some hours so that no one loses their job entirely. Extra work on other properties, in the winery, or even assisting maintenance can usually be found, but it’s not always reliable. Everyone does what they can, as well as they can, with what’s available.

Clicking out of the computer, I fix my jacket and face again as I get ready to walk back to the kitchen with the good/bad news. My team is professional. They already know the score, but “Great job you guys, we made it- time to look for more work elsewhere” is still a hard thing to say. “Nothing personal… it’s just business.”

We’re cooks, though. We work to give people the best our hands can provide, and we do it with pride, style, and grace. As much as we might like to think of ourselves as essentially mercenaries with knives and rolling pins, part of it is always personal.

We’re professionals. We made it through the busy season. Now it’s time to rest and go to ground, fall back on whatever reserves we have- professional or financial- and get ready for the next big push.

Stay Classy,

P.S. If you would like to hire me for freelance writing, editing, consulting, or even baking lessons, click the menu above and see what I can do for you! You can also just pick up some goofy merch if you’d like a hat, t-shirt, or poster I designed.