Catering to Love (12 page)

“Well, I’m glad you noticed, Dan. Thank you.”

Gabi made her way over to Corey’s station. “Do you need some help?”

“No, I’m good. But you might want to curb your enthusiasm toward the staff. You don’t want them getting big heads. You’ll lose control of them.”

“Is that how you manage? By fear?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Thank you for your feedback, but when I see praise becoming a problem, I’ll handle it.”

Corey gave her a dirty look as Joey handed him a plate coated with pork jus and a creamy polenta in the center that had been smoothed into a rectangular shape. She watched Corey add the pancetta-wrapped pork tenderloins on the top. Gabi walked behind him and picked up a small pan containing the fava-bean-and-mushroom mixture and spooned the vegetables around the base of the medallions. She sprinkled on her special blend of seasoning, added a sprig of rosemary, and wiped the rim just as Brian rushed in. “I need two soups du jour,” he said.

Gabi took the chits from him and placed them on the carousel. “C’mon, c’mon, serve this dish. You need to speed it up a little, Brian. I don’t want this food getting cold.”

“Yes, Chef. I’m working as fast as I can. You know, ever since Rosemary left, we’re down on waitstaff and we really need to replace her.”

“I’ve asked one of my friends to come be our hostess. That’ll free you up from having to seat people. The only problem is it will only be two nights a week. Hopefully Friday and Saturday. Please go,” she said, “and we’ll discuss it later.”

Corey’s left eyebrow was raised when she looked at him.

She ignored him and picked up a bottle of crème fraîche and squeezed a zigzag design on top of the cream of mushroom soup, sprinkled on her seasoning, and placed it down on the table. Brian reentered, his palms in the air. “Table twenty wants to meet the sommelier.” He made a face. “I didn’t know what to tell them.”

Gabi grinned. “That’s okay. You did the right thing. I’ll take care of them. Please serve the soup.” Brian nodded, and she patted his back as she made her way out of the kitchen and walked to the guests’ table. “I understand you want to meet the sommelier.”

“We did,” the male guest said. “We weren’t sure if you really had one since you allow customers to bring their own wine. Anyway, here’s what we brought and it’s such a special wine, we wanted to make sure we ordered the right dishes so they would complement each other.”

Reading the bottle’s label, Gabi smiled. “You have good taste in wine.” It was a ’99 Kistler pinot noir, and she understood why they were asking. “Most people don’t even know that Kistler makes a pinot noir because of their reputation with chardonnay. Anyway, it’s an excellent choice. We have a couple of wonderful dishes to go with this wine. If you want fish, we have a poached salmon with a seafood risotto in a light broth that would go extremely well. If you want meat, we have veal that’s lightly coated with flour and sautéed. It’s served with a marsala sauce and garlic mashed potatoes. While you’re deciding, let me grab a wine decanter.”

“You know, both those dishes sound wonderful.” He looked at his wife and gave her a half-nod. “I think we’re going to try one of each.”

“Excellent. How about appetizers?”

“No, I think we’re just going to go right for the gusto of the main meal and then have dessert afterward.”

“Okay, let me put your order in, and I’ll be right back with the decanter.” She entered the kitchen. “I have a salmon and a veal up next. Get me some hot rolls and ice water for table twenty.”

She grabbed a folded towel and the decanter and headed out to the table. Opening the bottle, she slowly and carefully decanted it, then poured a sample for the man to taste. He swirled the wine, sampled the bouquet, then sipped, drawing air in with the wine and swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing. He formed his fingers in a circle. “Excellent.”

Gabi poured the wine for the woman.

“Are you the owner of this restaurant?” the man asked.

“I am. Actually, this is my first week as owner. So what do you think?”

“The food looks wonderful, but the service could use a little sprucing up. Have you trained them?”

“We’re currently in the throes of growing pains. Do you live in the area?”

“We’ve just moved here.”

“Welcome. In the next couple of months, I want to have a few wine tastings. Since this is a bring-your-own, I’m hoping to have one of our local vendors come to talk about their wines and tell you how to pair right from our menu. Are you interested?”

“We’re in on that for sure.”

“Super. Then tonight, on the bottom of your bill, provide your email address and I’ll add you to the database so you’re aware of things we’re doing here at Carters’. Thank you for your honest feedback. As a welcome to the area, dessert is on us tonight.”

“Thank you. What did you say your name was?”

“Gabrielle Johnson, but everyone calls me Gabi. I hope you’ll do the same.”

“That’s very nice of you, Gabi. We’re looking forward to getting to know you and your restaurant very well.”

“Staff meeting tomorrow,” Gabi said, before the crew left. “I’d like everyone here at eight o’clock. Brian and Dan, I know you don’t start until much later, but I’d like to hear your concerns about being short-handed and whatever else you think I should know. For my kitchen staff, please wear your chef jackets, and no unshaven faces. No big earrings or nail polish. This is something you all learned on the first day of culinary school. I don’t know why John and Nell didn’t insist upon it, but it’s not only for your protection, but mine as well. We don’t want any of that stuff falling into the food and a customer biting on it. And I don’t want you guys getting burned. In addition to all that, I like a formal kitchen because it lets me know you’re serious about your job.” Everyone but Corey was paying attention. His ears were plugged with ear buds, and it was obvious he was listening to music. She walked up and stood in front of his station and gestured for him to pull them out of his ears.

“Corey, did you hear what I said?”

“Uh, no.”

“I don’t appreciate you ignoring me. Be here by eight o’clock tomorrow morning, clean-shaven and with a chef jacket on. You can leave your iPod in the car.” She jerked back. “Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Staff meeting? Whatever happened to cooking? Shut up and grab a bowl, and combine the shrimp, soy sauce, 2 teaspoons vinegar, cornstarch, and ½ teaspoon sugar. Toss to combine.

In another bowl, combine stock, ground anise, the remaining soy sauce, vinegar, cornstarch, and sugar, and the sesame oil and chili paste, which will kick her in the ass. In the cute ass, that is.

Heat 3 tablespoons of the peanut oil in a wok over high heat until it begins to smoke, just like your smokin’ hot boss. Oh,
don’t try to hide it from us. We know you’re losing sleep over her.

Reduce heat to medium high. That’s a good idea. Now, don’t let it blow up. Okay, add the chile peppers and cook for 1–2 minutes until charred. Remove and discard, which is a good thing because it only increases the heat. You don’t want to burn your bridges. Turn the heat back up to high and add half the shrimp. See, you keep turning that heat back up. Must mean something. Stir-fry rapidly until slightly browned. Remove to plate. Repeat until all shrimp is done. Using same wok, add 1 more tablespoon peanut oil, and add the ginger, garlic, scallions, and bell peppers. Turn for 2–3 minutes until crisp-tender. Give the stock mixture another stir before pouring into the wok. Add the shrimp and snow peas and toss until everything is heated throughout and sauce has thickened. Serves 6.

CHEF’S NOTE: A coffee grinder works well for grinding spices.

Gabi removed the hot cross buns she’d made for the staff meeting from the oven and placed them on a plate. Dan was the first to arrive.

He lifted his nose in the air and inhaled deeply. “Oh my God, what are you baking?”

Gabi laughed. “I made hot cross buns for the gang.”

“You’re too nice!”

“Uh, don’t paint me into sainthood just yet. I’m not always nice. But because I’ve had some real nightmarish jobs, I try to be appreciative and respectful of those I work with. I know how it feels to be on the other side. As a matter of fact, one five-star restaurant where I worked served its hard-working staff hot dogs for lunch. Not that that is so bad, but what we didn’t eat the first day was reheated the second.” She made a face. “I don’t want to treat my employees like they’re getting food no one else wants.”

Dan nodded gratefully. “So what can I do to help?”

“Want to make the coffee?”

“I can do that.” He headed toward the coffeepots and turned on the faucet to fill the pot with water.

Gabi heard the door close and stuck her head around the corner to see who had arrived. Corey walked in, and she did a double take. His face was clean-shaven, his hair pulled back in a low ponytail, and he was dressed in his chef’s attire. When her heart raced, she couldn’t believe he was the same guy. And more importantly, she couldn’t believe the speed with which her heart was pumping blood through her veins. Corey looked pretty damn hot. She shook her head to wrestle the thoughts from her mind and gave a nonchalant nod in his direction. Grabbing a handful of plates, she walked out to the dining room and placed them down on the table.

One more glance at Corey and she noticed his black pinstriped trousers, and he was wearing clogs that looked as though they’d been spit-shined. She smiled at him. “You look nice, Corey.”

“Thank you.”

One by one the staff entered the kitchen, and she pointed them toward the dining room. When everyone had assembled in the dining room, Dan placed the coffeepots on the table with cream and sugar, and delivered the hot cross buns on a tray.

Leslie was the first to say something. “Wow, if this is how you’re going to treat us when we have staff meetings, I promise never to miss one.”

“You’d better not,” Gabi teased. She looked around the table. Everyone was present. “Thank you for com—” Her sentence was cut short by the ringing of Corey’s cell phone. He clicked on to answer it. She stood and glared at him long enough until he got the message and disconnected the call.

“Sorry.”

“Me too,” she said, her mouth quirking to the side. “Okay, now I want everyone who’s carrying their cell phones to take them out and drop them on the table. The first one who grabs their phone for whatever reason has to buy everyone here the most expensive item on our menu for lunch.” She stopped and listened as Corey grumbled while he shut down his phone and placed it in view. No one else had a phone.

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I know how tired you are, but these meetings, which I’m planning to hold once a month, are instrumental to the operation of the restaurant.” She sipped her coffee. “After meeting with all of you, here are the changes I’m implementing. Steven has expressed an interest in working in pastry with Leslie. I really like that idea, and Joey is going to work on the grill. Corey and I will be working side by side.”

She was waiting for his reaction, but he remained solemn. “I think it’s important for everyone to know what it’s like to work at each station. This way, when someone is out, we can cover those stations without much delay in the food output, but more importantly, it widens your career choices for the future. I hate those situations where no one knows how to do anyone else’s job. It’s almost as if time stands still until the person returns.”