Hired by a Maniac

There is no slope more slippery than tempting fate and signing on for a Chefs job in a place with a reputation for being unable to retain a chef. Sometimes, places burn through chefs because the hiring manager doesn't do a good job and the new hires are not qualified. More often, the owner gets involved and if they aren't operationally relevant, (by that I mean they know how to do any single position in the their business), they foul up operations so recklessly that no good hire will stay. You would be surprised how many restaurant owners can't cook, or manage, or do the books. I have often wondered why on earth they would choose a business in which they need to hire every position not because they would like to relax, but because they have no choice. Lots of these types get ripped off and its easy to imagine why. This situation breeds a lack of trust and ultimately a miserable work environment.

Here is a stroll down memory lane at a very popular restaurant where I was number 5 chef in the first year. Even the headhunter who sent me, warned me it might be insane. What can I say? I needed a job and it was a pretty nice room. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH those rose colored glasses.

My boss' name was... well lets call him James. James, like so many industry folks, had a few issues. Nothing too bothersome. Just massive Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Depression, Mania, and problems with alcohol. Your average guy. For these problems, the pharmacological mix was all over the place. When OCD was in charge, James might decide to come into the kitchen and help out. Which was code for clean everything in sight. Sometimes in the middle of a Friday night , we would have to stop, pull out all the tables and scrub behind.

One afternoon, he actually tried to help prep when we were short. He put down so much iodine sanitizer on the prep boards, that every starch and vegetable turned black. Totally black. We lost everything he touched that day. I, of course, had to ignore facts of this nature when it came to defending my food cost.

Probably my most memorable day with James was the one I spent in his office for one of his many "menu meetings." These came to be known as beat on Kim meetings. Don't know why. That's just how it was. Anyhow, it quickly morphed into a weird psycho analytical session in which I was expected to bare my soul to prove I didn't hate the boss. He apparently needed to be my friend. I, by this time, would have preferred to slide bare ass down the edge of a razor. After repeatedly hammering me for what he perceived to be my personal issues and informing me that my ego was out of proportion to my actual self, I had finally reached my limit. After firing back and speaking my" truth" as he so aptly liked to call it, he fell apart, started screaming and ran out of the office.

Fast forward about three hours:
James storms down the stair into the kitchen office/dungeon /storage area with the strangest set of dilated pupils I have ever seen. Mind you, its only 2 hours to service so everyone is already moving at maximum velocity and a little stressed. He explodes into some kind of philippic about ego and self and how it's HIS restaurant. I swear, his blood was filling the veins in his neck in such a way that I thought, we were calling an ambulance. His eyes were like two black pie plates. I later learned a lot of klonapin will do that to a person. I digress...

So my Sous Chef, who is very very down to earth, bursts out in hysterical laughter. Which was appropriate but more than I had the balls for. James combusts and flies up the stairs. Only to return a moment later. Apparently, the sous chef was parked behind him and he couldn't leave.

I would have loved to sit in on his next therapy session. Believe it or not, he came back at 7pm to help seat the dining room. He was in an obvious drug induced calm. Everyone acted like nothing happened.

You just can't make this shit up.