The ebb and flow of kitchens
Spring is a time for great change and, right up until the very moment I laid my fingers on the keypad to type this entry, I would have said the season of change was firmly upon us.
These past mornings birdsong has appeared altered and more intense and the first crocuses have begun to push in my front garden. Of course, the increased daylight shakes us all from our winter torpor. The jumping forward of the clocks sets in motion myriad plans for the warm months to come and this sense of change makes its way into kitchens everywhere.
Just as sap begins to flow, you can bet money on many cooks throughout Niagara making plans to jump from one kitchen to another before the ‘busy season.’ Mostly I think this change is good and vital to both the cook and the kitchen he/she is leaving from or going to. Too much change though, the drip becoming a deluge, and a kitchen can be left badly wounded.
The relationships made in kitchens are very strong ones. The specifics of the job and the struggle to keep motivated through the timesensitive services, the sometimes impossible guests, the heat, the routine, the relatively poor wage for the work done causes us all to bare a deeper humanity than is forced in other work situations.
As a result, when a cook makes a plan to leave one kitchen for another it can feel like a love affair breaking up.
Sometimes this can be a good thing, too. And just like the end of an affair, there exists regret as well as empowerment on the part of the cook going into a new kitchen ‘affair’ with a naïvety that the new kitchen will have more balanced services, or it won’t be as hot, or the pay will be better, or the guests won’t be as complainant … Sometimes that same cook will show up at the backdoor of the kitchen they just left in a few short months, wanting to pick up where they left off.
I refer to these springtime jumpers as ‘the grass is always greener’ cooks and usually a few jumps is all it takes to drive home the message that, in kitchens everywhere, the grass is the exact same shade.
But there certainly is a great deal to be said for the mindful cook who plans out their career with movement in mind.
When I take a cook into our brigade, I try to help them visualize their growth path through my kitchen and encourage them to think about where they may want to go after a few years with me. The more entry level the cook, the longer I can realistically expect them to stay with me as there will be a whole world to learn. If the cook is more senior, having spent some time in the industry already, I will help them realistically assess how far up the chain they can climb in my kitchen before they would have to leave to take a management position, say, or become a chef of their own first shop.
I use the analogy of a deck of cards to describe the mindful cook who knows he/she has lessons to learn from different chefs to ‘stack their own deck,’ but it is the timing of the move that is all important for the kitchen brigade that is new and the one that is left.
So, for any cook reading this entry, I encourage you to evaluate whether there is truly no more love in your current relationship. And if this is indeed the time to ‘choose another card,’ check your deck for what card you might need and choose wisely, you don’t want to end up with a joker.
I could not believe your heartless response to “What the Heck in Denver,” about the husband’s refusal to feed their dog while the wife made dinner for the family. It is the whole family’s responsibility to provide care for a pet.
— APPALLED
This dog was foisted upon the family by the wife’s adult son, without asking. My response was pointed toward the wife, who didn’t solicit her partner’s wishes concerning the animal. But dozens of readers agreed with you that my reaction seemed heartless.