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It's a Friday evening. The restaurant is packed, filled with chatter, laughter and rattling of the open kitchen. There, I am, in my apron and my chief of chief, a towel hidden at my size, concentrated and in my element: the sauce reducing in the background, the soup approaching a simmer, the marinant starter on my right, and the voice of the chief of the chief calling checks to my left. Everything is fine. SO –
“Excuse me?” Two guests at the bar look at me in expectation, before asking: “Do you have any recommendations?” I stick on my “friendly” smile and suggest three of our bestsellers. We nod. They have already tried them. The other mentions an allergy to crustaceans. I should have asked for it first.
The soup bubbles while I half put their next question. New checks are called, but I miss my orders while I explain the processes and the ingredients. My goal slips from what I'm here to do: cook.
As the culture of cooking has gained popularity and visibility, there are also chefs. We are no longer hidden somewhere in the back. Suddenly, we face the dining room from our open kitchens, interacting with customers now the daily standard. Whether it is a chef's recommendation, a personally delivered dish or a glance in the kitchen, the guests seem more and more desire for contacts with people who cook their food. But in this prosecution, they delete essential intermediaries, undervaluating the role of front teams whose expertise ensures the best possible culinary experience – and which are, honestly, infinitely better in what we are not.
I see the work that our servers, hosts and managers devote every day, always asking questions during information sessions, memorizing ingredients, learning good pairs. They can explain the menu clearly and succinctly, adapting their service to your personal tastes with an intuitive impudence and a patience that I simply do not have.
It is not lucky, it is professionalism. Their clever service is informed by years of experience, courses and certificates. They anticipate your needs and easily treat concerns. With them, you are in good hands. This is hospitality. It is therefore frustrating when the guests turn to the chef in sweat and agitated, assuming that they know better. I saw guests ignor the waiting staff used for food, but spurted when a chef in a stained apron falls from a plate with mumble.
I am not saying that the chiefs should not be valued. We too trained harshly. Thanks to difficult learnings, low -paid jobs or expensive culinary courses, chefs devote themselves to perfecting their profession.
We spend years building our technical knowledge, mastering time management and developing the ability to prosper under pressure and as part of a team. Note that I have not made any mention of customer service.
Don't get me wrong – I would like to be good in customer service. But I am not. Nor should I be as a chef. This is why, when I see a customer with a menu except, I will probably push the nearest server, knowing that he will provide real hospitality. Letting me free to focus on what I do best.
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