A tough week in the service business

It was getting late, not so late that the restaurant was closed, but we were definitely in the final stretch. And it was a weekday, which meant that the crowd was different, both smaller and more intimate — when actual human connections are made. And while it might be the big sparks we think of, it's the slowsimmering fire that lasts.

“A Fernet and a beer,” said the man in all black sitting at the bar.

Now, personally I have never gone for the “Goth” look, but all black is also the look of rock stars, poets, villains and ironically, restaurant workers. He wasn't a villain, or a rock star, but poet and/ or restaurant employee were still on the table.

“How's your week going?” I asked, noting that I was also wearing all black.

“You know,” he said. “Very busy week last week.”

I did know. The Easter buildup is either the end of the season for “winter” restaurants, or the kickoff of the season for “summer” restaurants. Either way, it is a transition period, and a busy transition period at that. I suspect spring has always been that way. Maybe that is why we know the names of the gods Osiris, Persephone, Freya and, of course, Eostre so well.

The last four years have been a roller coaster ride.

I was pulled away to make both a Last Word cocktail (gin, maraschino, lime juice and Green Chartreuse) and a Nutty Irishman (Irish whiskey, Frangelico and coffee).

The man laughed watching me make both of those. He seemed to find particular humor in the Frangelico bottle, shaped as it is like a Franciscan friar.

“The monks and their booze,” he said.

“You know, Frangelico isn't actually made by monks,” I said.

“I didn't,” he said. “I just assumed.”

“It's owned by Campari now,” I said. “But it was marketed on the legend of Fra Angelico, a Dominican friar and painter from the early Renaissance.”

“Dominican?” he asked.

“Yep, and ironically his first job as a painter was a commission for a Carthusian altarpiece.”

“The Carthusians? The same monks who make Chartreuse?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“I thought there was a shortage of that,” he said.

Definitely an off-duty restaurant employee, I thought.

We continued on in that vein, discussing Yellow Chartreuse (a lighter, more mixable version of the green) and Benedictine (a classic sweet liqueur used in the Vieux Carré).

“Benedictine also not made by monks,” I said. “It was based on a fabricated story by a Frenchman after the French Revolution.”

He waved his hands in the air in front of him.