Want to really piss off a millennial? Ask them “What did you think your adult life would be like growing up?”
Want to have a full-on existential crisis? Truly and sincerely listen to the answers– and wonder if you haven’t forgotten being that pissed off once too.
Sorry about that. Let me make it up to you by sharing a comforting truth- success is relative, and how it looks is up to you.
I remember when my father, fresh off of some new training and then reconfirmed in team management training of my own, told me the Three Requirements for Change. They rang true enough in my own life and observations that I put them in my first book:
I find myself in a position once again where change is needed. The third requirement is usually the toughest one to establish for change- people will often accept familiar misery over the unknown chance for happiness. In my case, however, it’s the second requirement that’s tripping me up. Where to from here?
This past week I had the kitchen to myself, and it will continue to be so for the foreseeable future.
With the loss of my assistant to pursue better compensation and more secure hours, the pie shop kitchen is now a one-man show until I find and hire someone else.
What makes a “chef” to me has always been their team. The chef may call the shots, train the team, find and direct the right people to build it out- but it’s the existence of the team itself that grants the chef their role. Until I have a team again, I can’t very well call myself a chef.
What am I then? Quiet most of the them. Thoughtful. Doing my best to deny the bitterness and grievance and accept that for now, my “Way of the Floured Hand” is to be found in hermitage.
What’s that been like?
Quiet and thoughtful.
When you decide (and are given the opportunity) to be a team leader, you will eventually have to decide how to build your team. As tempting as it is to want to feed everything to a formula or algorithm, scan resume after resume and call in anyone that fits the metrics you need, we all know that doesn’t always pan out.
Life is messy and squishy. The people you hire may have the technical skills you need, but lack the interpersonal and intrapersonal skills that would make them effective. It’s hard to set hard numbers on “soft skills”– and even harder to gauge how a person will interact with and impact the performance of others.
Hiring for a kitchen is a masterclass in these factors. It’s hard to imagine a more brutal crucible than a busy restaurant or bakery. The work is rough, the atmosphere can be tense, and the nature of the business is working closely with others. Tempers and passions flare, motivations clash, and successful teams are the ones where everyone can pull together.
What do I look for in a would-be piemonger? A lot of what you’d expect, but maybe not how you expect it.
I get asked a lot of questions about my career as a baker.
Was it what I always wanted to do? (No- I remember wanting to be Indiana Jones for years.)
Aren’t the early morning hours rough? (They can be, but you eventually either get used to them, go mad, or advance far enough that you don’t have to work them anymore.)
Is it rewarding? (Absolutely.)
The most common one, however, is “do you want to run your own pie shop one day?”
The answer to that one is “…Maybe kinda?” I have kicked the idea back and forth in my head for ages, especially since I moved out to Portland and started surrounding myself with other entrepreneurs in the industry. Over post-shift beers and conversations across counters, I’ve gotten some solid insights into the life of a small business owner. It’s rewarding, and it can be fun, but it can also be a massive stressor and its own flavor of hell. You can’t really blame everything on the owner or boss, either- you know just how much of a screw-up that fella can be, but they’re trying hard.
All the same, it doesn’t hurt to dream. Between chats with other pros and a little soul-searching, I think I’ve got a good idea of what my dream shop would be like. It almost certainly won’t wind up quite like this, but I wouldn’t mind trying.
The Black Hat Baker 