“Every time I see you, you’re tougher and tougher.”
A server at Sawyer told me this in passing during a dinner shift. Sawyer is the Seattle-based restaurant I hosted and served at the summer and autumn following graduation. When he told me, I beamed with the unique warmth of being observed and assured. Yet, I had noticed this to be true myself. Working at Sawyer deepened my grit and gave me professional fluency in ways I couldn’t have predicted.
The goal of working at Sawyer was to add integrity to my love of food. I grew up watching the Food Network, cooking for my family, and following restaurant openings like an NBA Draft. Actually working in a restaurant - where I’d be paid to learn about menus and exposed to chefs in action - formalized and monetized this passion I’d taken for granted.
Working in every part of a restaurant - hosting and serving at Sawyer, and washing dishes and preparing food at Heartbeet Organic Superfoods Cafe - was an education in the minds of people paid to think about food. Learning a language is about empathy, and learning the language of a restaurant will make me a better journalist who adores food and is obsessed with restaurants.
Without much prior experience, I learned how to leverage this passion with other gifts I take for granted, like communication. While gawking at an open kitchen at Brimmer & Heeltap, I met Avery, an incredible server who was just about to leave to work at Sawyer. He saw my passion, agreed to meet me for coffee to learn about the service industry, and recommended me to the manager. At the interview, I learned how to articulate this passion and prove that I can learn fast. I formelized my seriousness through my “Server’s Guide to the Sawyer Menu.” This document was not only a menu outline, but prepped me incase god forbid I did get the job and someone asked what “mornay” or “gochujang” or “‘nduja” are. But once I got the job, I learned values there that have connected to my broader professional journey. My friend told me that I should write these values and see if they change after I start working elsewhere. Here are these values:
It’s all of our tables
Early on, I was pleasantly surprised when someone I worked with refilled my water glasses in a table in my section. When I thanked him, he replied, “We pool tips. It’s all of our tables.” Happy guests in my section were just as important to him as they were to me.
Success is more beneficial as a team sport. Not taking credit can be broadly beneficial.
Full in, full out
Movement across the restaurant is treated as an investment. You’re taking time and space to accomplish a purpose. In a large restaurant like Sawyer, I learned that the time you take to cross space should be meaningful. I learned to come in with as much food as I could carry in, take some orders, clean a table, fill waters, leave with as many empty plates as I could carry out, and repeat. No action should have one purpose.
Professionally, this comes down to anticipating needs and seeing time as an investment.
Manage expectations
As a host, there was a lot out of my control, from people arriving late to their reservation to people camping (staying for a long time) at their table. If someone arrives for their reservation and a table is not available, there may be a long time before I can seat them. It’s my job to make sure they feel acknowledged and respected by giving them a realistic amount of time before they can be sat.
Making people feel good right in the moment can be counterproductive in the long run.
Mise en place
This term means “things in place” and is used in professional kitchens to refer to the prep a chef does before orders come in. Front of the house does this, too, from the arranging of reservations by the host to rolling up silverware in linen by the servers. When you have to perform, whether making five perfectly cooked steaks or making seven tables feel loved, this preparation allows you to work without distraction.
As Oprah Winfrey says, “I believe luck is preparation meeting opportunity. If you hadn’t been prepared when the opportunity came along, you wouldn’t have been lucky.”
Remain kind, clear, and concise in the face of pressure
“At the end of the day, everybody’s going to get fed,” is something I tell myself during the big crunch. If I’ve managed expectations, stay kind, clear, and concise in my communication, and remember that we’re not curing cancer, then I can still meet the ultimate goal of a restaurant: making people happy.
Work presently and straight through
“If you’re well-fed at a restaurant, know that everyone serving you is hungry.” I told my friend this when we were out at dinner, observing the hustle of the front of the house. When you work the shift, there’s no time for a little lunch break halfway through. From 9am to 2:30pm, you go hard. You get hungry. You clock out and get a shifty. Rather than working with lukewarm intensity for a long time, you work at a rapid boil and then break completely. My Sundays would look like a 9am to 2:30pm then a 3:30pm to 9pm shift. I’d look forward to these days because I grew addicted to the energy, intensity, and concentration they required from me.
Hard work is meditative.
This is my last week at Sawyer before I move to LA from Seattle. Long story short, I learned a lot about business from working at Sawyer and enjoyed it more than I thought I would. How many people look forward to going to their restaurant gig they get after college before starting their “big girl job??”
Lunchbreak on the Saywer patio, complete with a Ginger Soda and a House Salad