I admit it: I've got a little control freak in me. Most chefs do. My control freak's name is Bill.
Bill works me hard - he cracks the whip when he needs to. For the first three months as Chef at The Haven, I worked six long days each week. Bill told me I should work all seven days to make sure everything was perfect, but I ignored him. After working six 12-14 hour days with no breaks, I needed to rest on the 7th day. Physically, that 7th day was crucial recuperation. Mentally, it was wasn't enough. Each day off, while I sat on my couch, completely wiped, Bill would constantly ask me, "Are my customers getting great food in my absence?" I did not yet have confidence in my staff to uphold my standards and instructions in my absence, and Bill agreed. I would get texts and phone calls from the cooks on my day off, pestering me with questions. I would never get the mental rest I needed, and it just drained me more and more each week.
I grew tired, but I learned to listen to Bill, to embrace him, and to reason with him. If Bill had it his way, The Haven would be closed when I had a day off. But this was one decision (of many decisions) that was not his to make - he didn't own the place - and I told him as much. "Well," Bill responds, "then you're just going to have to own your own place, so we can make all the decisions ourselves." I agree. "That way, if we want to be closed one or two days a week we can do that!" I caution in reply, "Sure, but slow down Bill - we can only do that if it makes sense financially."
TO BE CONTINUED
P.S. I do not have a multiple personality disorder, I just want my writing to be entertaining to read...
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