Read Online Steamed by Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant - Free Book Online

worried, considering that it isn’t even that busy tonight and Garrett looks overwhelmed. That just can’t happen,” Eric said, shaking his head in disappointment. “The other meals I’ve had here have been much better.”
     
    “Well, if this is his first executive chef job, he must still be learning a lot. Maybe he’ll get better?” I asked hopefully.
     
    “I don’t know. The lobster and venison were so damn good, but he’s losing it as the night goes on. I mean, look at him. He’s a wreck. There’s a big difference between being a great chef and being able to stay a great chef all night—especially on a busy night.” Eric pointed to the kitchen just in time to catch sight of Garrett grabbing a smoking frying pan that was emitting a vile stench. “It’s a gamble. He might learn quickly and become one of the best chefs around. Or this job might be too much for him. And I guess I’m concerned that Timothy put someone like Garrett in this position. Tim’s got a lot riding on the success of this place, so he should’ve found someone with more experience. There are some great menu ideas here, but they’re not coming out right.”
     
    “Well, the staff seems solid, and Timothy obviously has great experience. From Magellan. Why is Essence is having such a tough time? Just because of Garrett?”
     
    “No, probably not just Garrett. It could be a staffing issue. It’s a good staff, but there’s always the usual conflict. The front of the house—the hostess, the waitstaff and bar-tenders, the managers—and the back of the house—the chef and his crew—have to be able to work well together. And that’s rare. See, the waitstaff can make quite a bit of money on the right night and at the right restaurant, because they get tips. And, frankly, half the time they don’t care about the food all that much because they just want their money. They’re not in this business because they appreciate good food.” Eric finished his drink quickly and thumped the glass on the table before continuing.
     
    “But the chefs and the line cooks hardly make any money. Those guys, or at least the executive chef and executive sous chef, cook because they love food and they love to cook. For them, it’s an art. So when they bust their asses to prepare and plate a dish perfectly, they get outraged when the server doesn’t pick it up on time. Either the food gets left out getting cold, or it sits under a heat lamp getting dry. Then the chef gets criticized for making lousy food, when it was the server who pretty much ruined the dish. Or the servers will blame the chef. They’ll claim they had to wait so long for their orders that they got backed up and had to leave the food sitting out. And sometimes the chef just screws up a dish. I don’t know the specifics about the staff here, but I’d guess there must be some problems.”
     
    If the food had been even moderately good, I’d have kept eating while Eric talked. As it was, I just listened. My lack of participation obviously didn’t bother Eric at all; if he’d been alone at the table instead of with me, he’d probably have delivered the same soliloquy. If he’d looked significantly adorable, I’d at least have been able to sit back and stare at physical perfection. Unfair as it was, hot guys could get away with boring, useless attitudes. But those who looked like Eric? Well, his bland looks and mousy hair were doing nothing for me.
     
    “To top it off,” he went on, mainly to himself, “a lot of restaurant owners, who are concerned about their own financial success, can get angry with the executive chef. See, the chef orders the food for the restaurant. But if business is down, then the food costs get too high because the restaurant isn’t taking in as much money, and they end up throwing out expensive ingredients, thereby losing money. The chef gets blamed for high food costs and an empty restaurant, when the fact that business is down might not have