Chapter XIX - NEVER PRAISE HITLER

I started my new job at the Black Orchid in Indian Harbor Beach, it was family-owned by the Pettica Family, nice people. Let me introduce you to everybody:

Dennis Pettica, the owner, short and muscled, did multiple tours in Vietnam, he was a gun instructor and drill sergeant before, and he also had a print shop in Melbourne. You couldn't fool him about anything!

His wife June, was sweet and pretty and a hard-working lady, she looked most of the time worried.

Daughter Suzie had long curly hair that always looked like it was still drying from the shower, she was fond of her father and she always moved fast, like she was in a permanent hurry mode.

Mitch, the dishwasher, also a Vietnam vet, looked cross-eyed through his cokebottle glasses and was a specialist in saying politically incorrect things. He was the fastest of all of us at shucking clams and oysters.

Aaron, one of the cooks, was a quiet guy (at work) He had long hair because he played guitar in a heavy metal band and headbanging was his thing.

Steve, a gentle redneck from South Carolina, had a mullet and loved beer, guns, grits, and pickup trucks, and he made a lot of jokes.

And me, Nino, the fanatic chef, who didn't like complaints at all, was very strict in the kitchen, with no mercy for slackers or assholes.

The era was different, political correctness didn't exist yet and most people worked hard.

Sometimes you needed to fire people to keep the machine going and the atmosphere good.

Other characters in this story are:

Sean, a waiter, had brains like a clam and pronounced every dish wrong.

Mary-Ann, a waitress, whose primary job was in the officers' mess at Patrick's Air Force Base and who said with every opportunity she had that working at the base was way nicer than at the Black Orchid.

Holly, a waitress, always fuzzing with her hair and clothes, paid so little as possible attention at her work.

When new waitstaff members were coming for the first time into the kitchen, Mitch always gave them a grand tour, and after showing them all the ins and outs, like where they should make the salads, and plate the desserts, he suddenly became a great actor and he hollered as an announcer:

"CHEF, SHALL-I-TELL-THEM-THE-THREE-GROUNDRULES-OF-THE KITCHEN?

Yeah, go ahead, Mitchell!

Ok!

"Number one: Never praise Hitler"

"Number two: Don't call food shit"

"Number three: Never say it is only old people"

And then he didn't explain why, that was his biggest fun!

One evening, just before a busy Saturday night dinner, I had some of the waitstaff help in the kitchen finishing up the dinner prep. Sean was one of them, he and some kitchen staff had a brainless conversation and suddenly Sean said out of the blue: "Hitler did a good job and I regret that he didn't finish it"

"Oh, oh........" Mitch said, from behind the dishwashing station "he is not gonna like that".

"Oh, oh what"? "I regret he didn't finish his job," Sean provoked one more time.

I had to arrange some prep work in the walk-in fridge and store some live lobsters that had just been delivered. I was pretty much done when after a couple of minutes somebody knocked at the door of the fridge. Why in the hell would somebody knock at the door?

It was the brainless waiter,

"Chef I want to apologize to you about what I said, I am sorry, I didn't mean it!"

"I cannot accept your apologies because you said it, it's a horrible thing to say but you're too stupid to understand that, you're so proud of yourself that you even said it twice. Now close the door behind you, go to June, and tell her that you don't want to work here anymore. I come to check in five minutes if you have left the premises".

Rule number one: NEVER PRAISE HITLER!

Patricia did the baking for the Black Orchid, she made beautiful cheesecakes, key lime pies chocolate cakes, and carrot cakes. As it's done in lots of restaurants in the US, we made daily a dessert tray with a sample of each dessert on it to show the guests, instead of a dessert menu, so that they can choose a dessert.

The rule was, never to serve the desserts which were on the tray, they were just for show.

After lunch, a supplier came in to discuss some prices, and I sat with him in the lounge for 10 minutes, when I came back into the kitchen I noticed an empty spot on the dessert tray, I looked through the round kitchen window and saw Mary-Ann walking to a table with that dessert in her hand. I told another waitress to get her back to the kitchen to change that dessert.

The waitress quickly stopped her and told her my request. She shrugged her shoulders, turned around, and served the cheesecake to the guests anyway.

When she came to the kitchen I told her to go to the table and bring the dessert back because we only served fresh desserts.

Her reply was: "Why, they're only old people"?

I hollered so loud "OLD PEOPLE HAVE TASTEBUDS TOO" that the guests must have heard it. The other waitress got the cake back and exchanged it for a new dessert, the guests smiled she said, because they heard me and they probably understood what happened.

"Mary-Ann, I know you like it way better at the Air Force Base because everything is better there and they don't have old people to serve. So drive up there now and tell them you're available 5 days a week as of today, and you can start right away!

RULE NUMBER TWO: NEVER SAY IT'S ONLY OLD PEOPLE!

In the week of Thanksgiving, we booked a lot of seats for an exclusive dinner buffet, we were prepping 2 days for it and I was proud of the way it looked and tasted, of course, we had roasted turkeys with all the trimmings, a top round freshly carved on the spot, roasted boneless leg of lamb in puff pastry with lamb-gravy and wild rice, seafood Neuberg and a lot of appetizers. We did two seatings and then came Holly. "He chef, can somebody replenish that puff pastry shit, it is all gone"

"Holly, I would appreciate it if you don't call food shit in my kitchen because I love food, I respect food, I do my best to make the best out of food, I respect the guests, and food also pays our salary. SO-DON'T-CALL-FOOD-SHIT!"

"Yeah whatever"

"Holly, I will replenish the lamb myself because then you can leave early tonight, like right now. Don't forget to tell June that tonight was your last evening ".

RULE NUMBER THREE: NEVER CALL FOOD SHIT!

My daughter Eryn, who was a hostess on the weekends, told me later that June some evenings told the Waitstaff "If you don't need to be in the kitchen, don't go there!"

Dennis didn't mind my strictness, after several rounds of Vietnam and being a drill Seargent he liked an old-fashioned disciplined kitchen and ...........good food.