Times of Transition and Uncertainty

It’s a scary time right now in the world, especially if you view your world through the lens of the restaurant industry. I talk a lot about how I’m making a transition, to be a writer – hopefully a full-time one. But I’ll always be connected to the industry, whether I cook or not. I do still cook, professionally, so I’m scared. Scared at what might happen to our industry. Scared as to whether or not there’ll be a job to go back to. My co-workers, my bosses, all my contemporaries… these people are all my friends and neighbors. They all feel this way, suffocating under this cloud of uncertainty.

However, restaurant folk are of hardy stock. You can’t do the job or be in this business if you’re a wimp. I’m not trying to say that the hyper-masculine bullying (and sometimes worse) our industry is sometimes known for is something to be proud of. Rather, what I mean is that the job itself requires a certain level of stamina, grit and intestinal fortitude of its workers. The hours are long. The pay is lower than what you might expect. The schedule is unrelenting; kiss those holidays and long weekends with friends and family goodbye, you’ll be on the clock. To survive and thrive when this is your norm takes a strong person.

Yet, when presented with the challenges of our reality, we often forget our strengths. I’m reminded of a conversation I had a few months ago with a good friend of mine. Sarah Farmer is a name that most people in Ottawa’s restaurant industry are familiar with. She’s worked in many great restaurants over the years as a pastry chef, line cook, chef de cuisine and more. Sarah has recently made the switch from kitchen work to more administrative duties in dealing with the restaurant community and among the many hats she proudly wears, a prominent one is that of a talented photographer.

I’ve known Sarah for many years now. We’ve worked together at a couple of restaurants in the past and when my thoughts started to turn to the idea of changing my career path, I wanted to talk to her. I was curious about the path she took and why she made her switch, but if I’m being honest, mostly I wanted advice. I was scared to make a change. I’d been doing the same one thing for so long, and for a long time I’d been consumed by it. There was nothing else I knew.

Sarah helpfully reminded me of all the ancillary skills and traits that kitchen and restaurant work develop in a person. Things like punctuality, speed, amazing organization, the ability to cope with a massive workload, a sense of duty to your vocation. These are things that are valuable in any walk of life but in our industry, they are instilled in us so solidly that we can forget how strong we actually are.

She also reminded me that bravery when facing uncertainty is necessary or nothing ever gets done. And that we, as workers who are often consumed by the work we love, have the ability to dive fully into whatever projects we choose to take on, as she did with photography and as I attempt to do with my writing.

This piece was originally meant to be about that conversation and how it applies to my own transition. But in this climate of uncertainty, I feel we could all use a reminder about our strengths. The strengths the restaurant community worldwide has and can share with each other as well as with our literal communities. I have seen bravery and kindness in the face of uncertainty and fear already. Restaurant staff banding together to help others with their EI applications. Kitchens remaining open at reduced capacity, making take-out meals to feed to hungry and frightened neighbors, providing food that is delicious and heart-warming. Restaurant owners taking care of their staff, making sure that they are fed and that the cheques from the last period of normal business were rushed out to them. This is a strong community of hard-working, good people who will support you in times of need. Will you, in turn, support them?

If you’re in need of comfort while isolating at home, order your takeout from a local restaurant choosing to stay open. If you’re still making good money while off, buy a gift card from a local place, whether they have chosen to stay open or not, and make an investment in a good meal in the future. Most importantly, sign the petitions circulating about helping your local restaurants survive this terrible situation. Rally with them in asking for a freeze on rent payments.

Reach out to your government and help these small business owners and their staffs, who through this frightening time are trying so hard to provide warmth and comfort to you.

Fellow cooks and chefs, servers and bartenders, sommeliers and managers, stay tough. Keep helping each other out and keep helping your communities. We are challenged by this terrible situation, true, but we are also uniquely equipped with skills to weather to it, all we need is some well-earned governmental aid.

Restaurant industry folk are strong, that’s true, but everyone could use a helping hand from time to time.