An Ex Banker Who Cooks

Here is an amusing little article from the Wall Street Journal,┬ácomparing a restaurant kitchen to an investment bank. It’s worth a read if you are bored and need a few minutes of entertainment.

3 Replies to “An Ex Banker Who Cooks”

  1. Well done piece. Let it known that I only trashed one tray of food in 19 years, a full tray. Slam dunked it, right at the waiters feet, in the middle of a crazy busy lunch service. Don’t really recall if it had any long term affect on his performance. Oh, and then there were a few tossed plates… I’ve seen and heard tell of much wilder antics.

  2. I really would rather discuss how a true conservative feels about our politicised FDA, and it’s recent string of failures. Can we expect gov. to make sure our peanut butter is safe? or does the standard mantra of “letting the market work” operate here? and how does that work,anyway? Do people stop buying peanut butter of a specific brand after it makes enough buyers ill? Who finds out the source of the tainted stuff” How many get sick before the market reacts? Because of our over centralized food source, problems seem to be big problems.
    But since you insist, I really don’t recall exactly what prompted the tray slam dunk. Whatever it was must have been the last in a looooong string of ef-ups, I’m a very patient man.
    There once was a waiter who so vexed me that one busy service I told him, calmly, that even though I could not fire him, I could banish him from my kitchen.”Get someone else to pick-up, stay out of here”
    That didn’t work for him so we got into a little discussion. It was busy, of course, and things escalated quickly.
    By luck, the owner of the restaurant, a 60 something year old man, swung through the kitchen to say good-night on his way home. He walks in as our now quite ruffled waiter is threatening me. John quickly came to my defense, telling the waiter to quiet down and leave the kitchen. The waiter resisted and started getting physical. So John and I dragged him to the back door, all the while he’s screaming about how I can’t do this to him, can’t ruin his career, blah, blah, blah. We threw him out, called the police, and then I returned to sorting out a very confused service. Needless to say I was a little nervous leaving work for a while after that .

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