With the current dearth of applicants for the many good restaurant jobs in our Metro, you’d think a job-seeker could walk into almost any restaurant and get a job on the spot. And they just about could, but there are a few behaviors a hiring manager just can’t overlook in a potential employee no matter how desperate times are. Continue reading Bring a Pen
Category Archives: Commentary
Robin Garr’s musings about food and restaurant matters that don’t fit neatly into the “review” category.
Shift Wars
A recent internet meme made me giggle. A lot.
The photo was forgettable, but the text said “When I die I want AM shift to lower my casket, so they can let me down one last time.”
One could easily swap “AM shift” for “PM shift” in the meme, and it would still be just as funny. Shift wars. It’s a real thing in the restaurant industry. Continue reading Shift Wars
How hot? That hot. They’ll tell you no lies at A Taste of Thai
“How hot do you want your Pad Thai?”
This can be a leading question in any Asian eatery where some of the dishes have the capability to scorch your palate. I raised an eyebrow, seeking more information.
“Scale of one to four,” our friendly server added, neglecting to mention the “zero” possibility. More about that later. Continue reading How hot? That hot. They’ll tell you no lies at A Taste of Thai
On a Wait
Tickets are spilling out of the printer, faster than anyone could read them aloud. Cooks are busy filling orders for the previous 20 tickets, and not just a list of items, but a list of modifications including burger temps, steak temps, and at brunch, egg styles: sunny-side, scrambled with or without cheese, hard-fried, poached, hard-poached (that’s a boiled egg, out of the shell, people – it takes 10 minutes), with toast, without toast, gluten-free, sub a side of this, that or the other. Continue reading On a Wait
Humble
I started a new job a couple of weeks ago. The kitchen there is populated with young cooks, many much younger than me. I’m the oldest person working in the back of the house. At this point in my life, that’s not notable. Restaurant cooking is a young person’s game. Continue reading Humble
Having standards
I applied for a job this week. I’m out of work right now, and things are getting pretty lean. I decided to swallow my pride and see about working at a corporate place, a place I knew would have job security and union protection and proximity to home and predictable hours to trade for a pretty crappy hourly wage. Continue reading Having standards
Spot the difference: Cook or chef?
At some point, every enthusiastic home or restaurant cook has heard the following from friends or family members: Oh, this is so good! You should really open your own restaurant. Continue reading Spot the difference: Cook or chef?
In my hand
Expediting the pass at a busy restaurant takes special skill. The expediter has to be precise, has to speak to everyone on the line, has to bring everything together like an orchestra conductor to ensure that every table’s food goes out on time and in concert.
Continue reading In my hand
Product wrangling
I’m a morning person. Not that I greet the day by springing from bed singing songs with cartoon woodland animals like Snow White, all cheerful and such. But I am the morning person at a restaurant. I’ve always enjoyed being the first one in, greeted by a clean, cool, quiet commercial kitchen, with plenty of space and sparkling equipment to start the day’s prep.
Continue reading Product wrangling
The Post’s pizza earns our salute
Mary claims that I never met a pizza I didn’t like, but this is a gross exaggeration. Sure, I like pizza, a lot, and I generally won’t say no to a slice. Why should I?
But liking the stuff doesn’t mean that I give up my critical discernment, dammit! Show me a Corporate Pie™ and I’ll shrug and go “Meh.” I know pizza, and I know what I like. And I’m here today to tell you that I like the pizza at The Post, an appropriately hip, casual pizzeria in a shotgun house that was once home to Lone Wolf Post #5636 of the Veterans of Foreign Wars post in Louisville’s Germantown.
Continue reading The Post’s pizza earns our salute