After being advised for weeks that I absolutely must watch The Bear, I sat down recently and watched a couple of episodes. There were parts of the drama that I completely appreciated, particularly the financial pressures faced by restauranteurs and the handwritten sign, in large letters, reading ”Sense of Urgency.” These both rang true for me. I also completely related to the kitchen personalities and to a lesser extent, the egos of the back of the house staff. Over the years, I’ve worked with some amazingly talented chefs, including some who have been as full of themselves as a diner after a 10 course tasting menu.
As I sat on the couch watching, though, I squirmed at the absolute chaos on the screen. I understood the attempt to pack each episode with drama but it didn’t ring true to me. I can’t imagine a restaurant surviving any length of time with the array of issues this place has, including a poor health department inspection, bad wiring, problematic plumbing and back alley drug dealing. It just felt over the top, especially in a business that in reality is already incredibly challenging.
But, the reason I won’t be watching any more of The Bear is much more simple than the overly dramatized difficulties of restaurant ownership…it’s the yelling. I simply can’t imagine working in an environment in which supposed professionals scream insults and obscenities in each other’s faces – in front of customers, no less.
I hope non-industry folks aren’t disappointed to hear this, but in my 30+ years working in hospitality this type of behavior just doesn’t happen. I’ve certainly worked with chefs who have been, at times, difficult or even unreasonable, but I’ve never worked with anyone who verbally assaulted and abused me in a way that is anything like what is depicted in The Bear. Nor would I ever, for the record.
The pressure, stress and challenges in being a restauranteur are most definitely real, but as any hospitality industry veteran knows, during service hours, it’s show time. It doesn’t matter if you’re hungover, brokenhearted or exhausted, when it’s time for service, you get yourself together, paste a smile on your face and do your best to provide your guests with an experience that they will find pleasant, delicious and memorable for all the right reasons.
How do I know this? Because I worked for Albany’s GOAT restaurant family, the Purnomos.
Last Sunday, I attended a wonderful party to celebrate the family who not only taught me so very much about service and dining, but who helped to make Albany my home. I was invited to speak at the event and felt very fortunate to be able to share a perspective unique from any of the other presenters – that of a server. My comments are below, minus the shaking hands and nervousness.
When you’re a “returning adult college student” trying to independently work your way through school, you’re lucky if you can find a job that’ll provide an income to pay all of your bills. When that job actually provides you with that and a family, you’re beyond lucky.
In 1988 I moved to Albany knowing no one. Close to 35 years later, to a great extent, I can credit the Purnomo family for helping to make Albany my home.
All of us in this room are “restaurant people.” We each appreciate great food, often paired with wonderful wine, thoughtful and anticipatory service and a well designed dining room. Some of us here, though, are the professionals who strive to create those experiences for others to enjoy.
That’s who Donna and Yono, and those who have worked with, and beside them, are.
Industry veterans will know what I’m talking about when I say that the team at 289 Hamilton Street was special. You know what it feels like when things just click and each shift becomes an exercise, a lesson almost, in providing capable, professional hospitality. Working in front of the house teams of two, we helped Donna and Yono to build a business with a reputation for a level of quality service and a menu like none other.
Along the way to becoming one of the best crews I’ve ever worked with, we became friends, then family. Because of the Purnomos, I have people in my life whom I otherwise might never have known – the father of my sons aka the fabulous Lilly boys, Alan Danforth who baked my wedding cake, along with the one for my 50th birthday party, Christopher Campbell who hosted my youngest and I last year in San Francisco and changed my son’s life, and the much missed John Radley who crocheted blankets for my babies, a gift I never would have imagined upon first meeting him in his crotchety glory.
Donna and Yono shared their friends with us – the Marys – Brin and Burgess, Erma, Dale, Judy,Vicki, Joan and countless others. We’ve mourned together for those lost – I’m thinking about Cap and Karen, Larry and Joel, and celebrated the successes realized through tireless hard work.
In addition to including me in their professional and social circles, Donna and Yono welcomed me into their home, trusting me with their children, who quickly taught me how to eat jello with a straw, and became part of my chosen family. How lucky am I?
While there’s no way to adequately thank Donna and Yono for all they have done for each of us and this community, I’m honored to be able to share my appreciation for them today.
Feel free to share your opinion on The Bear, along with your own appreciation for the Purnomo family with a comment.
