Open a restaurant... you must be mad! (PART 2)

For those of you familiar with my ramblings here in the early days, I once blogged about the whole open a restaurant? you must be mad! It feels a little odd to reflect on my old thoughts now. Not that they were that off key, but the complexity of this business of food is still far more challenging than I imagined back then.

My latest existential crisis (of which I seem to have many these days) is about something I've observed for quite some time now. The elusive holy grail for so many chef-led food businesses and restaurants.  I know that when I'm in the kitchen, the food doesn't leave the pass unless it's of the right standard.  But the fact is, I can't be in the kitchen all the time, every time we are open.  I would like to be, but it's simply not sustainable.  From the minute you're not there, consistency is at risk!

We need to start with some context. I work 7 days a week, as do most people who run their own small business. Some days, maybe two if I'm lucky, it might only be 3 or 4 hours. More often, it's a good 10 hour day, sometimes 12 or more.  About a year ago, I really wasn't feeling too good health wise and then last summer, I was diagnosed with Graves disease.  It's an auto immune disorder where the body attacks itself causing the thyroid to become hyperactive and causing damage to the eyes and vision. Working long hours in a hot kitchen is not an ideal situation for someone with this condition.  Whilst I freely admit I'm naturally loud, perhaps a little shouty at times and often over excitable, this disease did me no favours at all.  It's the reason I had such a short fuse last summer and left me reeling from stress. So just as a note to those troll-like people who took to Trip Advisor to complain about my 'attitude' during some of my worse episodes last summer, I hope one day when you fall down, you don't get to feel what it's like for someone to kick you while you're down there. Anyway, the long and short of this story is that I cannot keep working excessive hours or I may lose my sight.

I'm sharing this story because I want to show a little about what it's really like trying to run a small business, and still deliver the standard of food that I want to achieve and am passionate about.  But the more variables that exist between me and the food that goes out, the more problematic that standard and consistency becomes.

This is the thing I miss most about my dining club, as there was little that stood between myself, the food and the person eating it.  I won't deny I am slightly envious of how Sara Danesin has established her food in such a setting, but for me, the crossover of this with my home life wasn't tenable as a regular event.  I also wanted to establish a business I could grow. Like Wahaca. I love that place. Delicious food of consistent high quality that's accessible.  But the dream of building a food business that could grow into something bigger feels hindered just now. Because I am only one person.  And I can't be all things at all times, so the dreaded delegation has to happen.

I've tried various approaches to date and I'm yet to be convinced of the success of any of them.  I had quite a good head chef on board at one point. But the alcohol and drug issues became an issue. And this sometimes had an impact on consistency (amongst other things!).  I've got a decent prep chef helping me these days, which works well with the new prep kitchen, but this just means I get to complete prep in one day instead of two, but always under my close supervision.  It just seems to go awry when I'm not there.  And I've yet to understand why everyone doesn't use checklists.  But no matter how perfect I keep product control at the prep stage, there's still the issue of service at the pub.

I've taken the Pret A Manger approach to this stage of service (they let me in their prep kitchen a year or two ago). Bulleted clear lists with photographs. How difficult can it be?  But it is. All the time. The stress of managing other people makes me enjoy the kitchen less and less, and I just don't know what the answer is. I can't be in the kitchen all the time. I can't ensure the food is exactly how I want it to be when I'm not there. I'm not saying my staff don't try, but they lack experience and at the end of the day, the hospitality industry in full of casual workers with little commitment to a business. I tried pay increases. I tried being nice. I tried shouting.  This last one works for about a week but they all walk round with faces like my teens in a bad mood, so I go back to being less 'boss like' and more just my usual self, and then standards slip again.  It's not dissimilar to having teenage children.

Even the best kitchens have this problem. I recently had a terrible meal in a well reviewed Manchester restaurant. I found out later, the head chef was off that day. Boy could you tell! For the record people, Maldon sea salt flakes are for cooking with, not sprinkling liberally over the plate just before service! I remember reading criticisms of John Torode's old restaurant, which centred around his absence from the pass and slipping standards.  Surely people didn't expect him to be working the pass all the time?  It makes me wonder whether this is really a young persons game. No commitments, no family and no doubt boundless more energy than this middle aged woman.  And that the old adage is true, that a restaurant is only ever as good as it's chef.

So I've figured out that I don't want to employ wage monkeys. I'm not entirely convinced I like employing people full stop if I'm honest, but people who just want a wage and have little more care than that, is not really where I'm at in my life.  I've also come to a point where I can't work excessive hours week in and week out.  So you can see why I've been feeling reflective about just where things are going.

Sadly, I've reached the end of my time at the pub.  But for me, there is actually some relief in this. For all the problems I've already mentioned, and this has only been made harder during the demise of my working relationship there and feeling compromised.  I'm looking forward to being in charge of my own food again, and deciding when and where I will work.

Barbarella will be going into storage for a little while, while I catch up with my life, friends and family. And there are plans afoot for some new adventures, so I've got more than enough to keep me busy and cooking.  And I might take a little break. I think I've earned it, don't you!

POST NOTE:
With regard to the loyal and hardworking staff I have been lucky enough to employ over the last two years, I realise I should have given them more acknowledgment here. I didn't think I needed to clarify this in a public space, as I am now good friends with a number of them, and as I talk to them in everyday life, they know how much they are appreciated and liked.  Obviously, I now see that the 'public' could misinterpret this within this blog.

What I was trying to do was blog about some insights I have learned about the hospitality industry and how elusive consistency is in trying to produce great food.

Unfortunately the best staff in this business are either a) unaffordable skilled and experienced chefs or b) people who have great talents elsewhere, but can apply themselves to the job, as they are hardworking, bright and passionate.  I usually employed type b. Which meant I lost the best of them back to their full time university studies. And they all eventually move on to pursue their own personal ambitions and adventures (or they get poached ;0).

So HUGE thanks to my lovely staff, you know who you are!!!! I couldn't have done it without you! Jxx