The long goodbye.
Kind of like planning your own funeral. You're the only one who knows you have a terminal disease and you've got 2 weeks to live.
Who do you tell?
How do you put all your affairs in order?
You look around, think of what you could have done better and what you were really great at. You look at all you've achieved, and think of all the hopes and dreams that you had.
Some things will be a relief. Not to have to worry and stress over anymore.
But some things will be a heartbreak. And a loss.
I had a partnership that went sour three years ago. I left in tears and sorrow. I'd lost someone who had been my best friend, my lover, my business partner and my business all at once. But I still had the bug of owning my own place- I hadn't gotten it out of my system yet.
So I forged forward and built a new restaurant.
I knew I had to do some things differently this time. This was my baby without him. One person who had stood by my side throughout the whole last ordeal was my father, and he knew I still had it in me and this time he was going to be part of it.
The day after I left the bakery (my prior business) I gave myself a pity party for one day. My son was at sleep-away camp so I had some privacy. I took some tranquilizers, watched endless episodes of Six Feet Under and laid in bed in my air-conditioned room while it broiled outside. No shower, only getting up to pee or take out the dog. And I cried, a lot.
But the next day I was up again.
Funny thing was, due to all the stress of the last few months I had dropped a few pounds. I'd gotten a good hair cut. So I actually was looking pretty good. Now it was time to get started on my future.
I'm a martial arts freak. I love cheesy kung-fu movies and I like artsy- kung-fu movies. Kill Bill 1 & 2 became my theme movies. I put posters of The Bride, Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan up in my home office. And I finally got up the nerve to join a dojo and start training.
Three times a week, I kicked and punched and screamed. "More Chi!", Sifu would command. I had tears and anger in my throat and I'd punch harder. I thought of how I'd been hurt and betrayed and let it all out.
I'd leave soaked and spent. Never have I physically exerted myself like that. But it cleared my mind.
In my mind I brewed and planned for my new place. I could apply all that I had learned and do something really different this time. The last place was a huge bakery with a small cafe. This would be a cafe with a small bakery. Wine was to play an important part of it. Food's not where the money is, booze is. I didn't want to get into the bar business but I would sell boutique wines and interesting beers to go with my food. Now I could do food geared more toward dinner with entrees and appetizers as opposed to the bakery where it was just sandwiches and salads in the day time. I still loved to bake and knew my town could use some quality baked goods. Having lived here for over 20 years I knew what we needed. A place with great but not intimidating atmosphere, decent prices, delicious home style food with an international accent, wines to match and quality baked goods. Everything would be made on premise. Between the wine and catering this place could succeed.
I am very good at treating customers well. I read Danny Meyer's "Setting the Table" and was inspired. I'd had a fantastic rapport with my customers at the bakery and really missed them. I was in my town now and knew lots of people and I knew how to make them feel welcome.
I used my same builder who'd done the bakery. I knew how to work with him, trusted him. The spot I ended up in was in a shopping center on a very busy road. The landlord was an acquaintance of mine who'd actually recommended the builder to me in the first place.
The shopping center was a bold move. It was home to a successful bagel store, a Chinese restaurant, a kid's clothing boutique, a UPS store, a hair salon, a music store, a bedding store. Very well maintained but not the kind of place one would find a restaurant of my caliber. But I also knew that people are lazy and don't want to pay for parking downtown. That they could drive right up here and have plenty of free parking. It was easy to get to and so convenient. And it was surrounded by huge corporate parks. I wanted to do corporate catering. Platters of sandwiches, breakfast meetings, parties- it was all there and I'd deliver to them.
My food was influenced by places that I'd traveled. Simple and really delicious. Easy but a little different. I'd also worked with people from places like Brazil and learned about some of their food- including the best hangover soup in the world.
One day I read about a place in Queens that had Korean fried chicken wings. My son and I drove out there and feasted for $14. They were amazing and different from anything around here. So I copied them and put them on the menu.
I tried to encourage my cooks to be creative, to bring their ethnic roots to the table. I also tried my best to treat them with respect and to be respected in return.
It all started off with a bang. The more people came, the more they enjoyed the place. We started having regulars right off the bat. We went through help like water, because that is the nature of the business, but eventually it boils down to the select few that come through.
We had bad times, we had good times. We had days where we had them lined up at the door, we had days where we stood around and looked at each other. The corporations got to know us and had us cater for them a couple of times a week. I never found that right-hand person who could cover for me full time but I could go home and take a nap, or go to a marching band competition and watch my son sometimes.
Did we make mistakes? Plenty. Was I too nice to some of the employees and let them get away with a lot of b.s.? Probably. But that's who I am.
Did I pay too much for that space and sign my life away on that lease? Probably. But it was a different time when people were spending more money.
Because what happened was they stopped.
My regulars cut back. My corporations cut back. And sometimes though it seemed real busy people were ordering a slice of quiche and a glass of water. The sales were dismal.
The rent didn't get any lower. Neither did the cost of doing business. And how many hats could I wear without wearing myself out?
That last week there were two things that made me really say enough.
1) Delivering one of my few orders. A loyal customer, a dermatologist's office. Me, almost 50 years old, schlepping boxes with food, etc. out of my car, into the office building, into the elevator, into the office. They sign the order, $20 tip which I give to the cooks because I never keep them for me.
How long would I keep having to do this without making any money? I was supposed to have a delivery person by now. It was still me doing it all.
2) I wanted a Carvel cone. Chocolate with chocolate sprinkles. I was fed up with some of the behavior going on at the restaurant. No one knew that they might be out of a job in a week. They were acting like spoiled children and I'd had enough. Unbeknownst to them I was trying to order as little as possible to keep expenses and inventory low. So I was going to go to Costco and get my Carvel cone on the way.
I had no cash on me so I pulled up to an ATM. Lo and behold, my account said $0.
I got in my car. No cash. No money in the bank. Can't even get a damn Carvel cone!
Fifty years old almost, restaurant owner, tv chef and I have no money.
Enough.
It was time to walk away from the table.
This time it wasn't about love, rejection, hurt or anger.
It was about doing my best, putting it out there. Getting a great response, knowing the names and faces of most of my customers. Hearing how much they loved my food. Knowing the days and nights when we did it right. Having the reviews to prove it.
But business is business and we had nothing left.
So we closed our doors. What was left of the staff and I cooked the last of the food, bought some hard liquor, put up a sign that said "PRIVATE PARTY" and had just that in the dining room. We drank, ate, smoked cigars, laughed, trashed all those that deserved it and eventually stumbled out of there. A day later two trucks pulled up and took all the equipment out.
And now, I'm looking for a job. Ready to go back and work for The Man. We're sewing up all the loose ends, the legal, the financial. All the unpleasant stuff.
In some ways I'm so relieved. I'm ready to move on. The itch has been scratched and I'm no longer interested in being a restaurant owner. I might write a few more essays on here just to recall some people and things that happened during those days, but I'm done.
One final note. On the last day that we served lunch the news was out on the internet that David Carradine had killed himself.
It was somehow so fitting to me. How driven I had been. How Kill Bill had been my theme- that I would rise and conquer. I'd actually won. Bill had been killed. And like the Bride,I was driving down the road and moving on.
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