Post by galan on Nov 19, 2021 22:06:49 GMT
The date: Friday, 19 November
The time: Noon
The scene: Frank's Oyster House, where an exceptionally good x2 batch of biscuits had finished baking two hours earlier
The scenario: Our shellfish purveyor shorted us 10 dozen oysters. The chef was in earlier than usual to prep for a packed lunch event through a homelessness outreach program he works with. A plumber was in to look at our prep sink. The chef's phone rang, interrupting the music blaring from the beloved bluetooth speaker, and he disappeared into the dining room. At 12:05, he came back in: "David [the bartender] just tested positive for COVID, we're going to get tested right now." 30 minutes, innumerable texts to the line boys, and one rogue wine delivery later, we were shivering in a UW parking lot shoving cotton swabs up our noses, preparing to wait 24 to 72 hours to know anything. Yay.
Because that's exactly what you want as a small restaurant, being closed on a Friday night, right? And probably tomorrow, too, there's too many people on staff to really hope that we'll be able to build a skeleton crew for Saturday. And if either the chef or I come back positive, it's probably a matter of time for the other; we work too closely together for too much time in a confined space with relatively poor ventilation (so...a normal restaurant). If that happens, the restaurant is down for the count for two weeks. The line boys all have morning jobs, and I don't think even Whaldemar could crank things out fast enough.
I did my due diligence in May and am not one for thoughts and prayers...but maybe this once? I guess I have plenty of writing time on my hands.
The time: Noon
The scene: Frank's Oyster House, where an exceptionally good x2 batch of biscuits had finished baking two hours earlier
The scenario: Our shellfish purveyor shorted us 10 dozen oysters. The chef was in earlier than usual to prep for a packed lunch event through a homelessness outreach program he works with. A plumber was in to look at our prep sink. The chef's phone rang, interrupting the music blaring from the beloved bluetooth speaker, and he disappeared into the dining room. At 12:05, he came back in: "David [the bartender] just tested positive for COVID, we're going to get tested right now." 30 minutes, innumerable texts to the line boys, and one rogue wine delivery later, we were shivering in a UW parking lot shoving cotton swabs up our noses, preparing to wait 24 to 72 hours to know anything. Yay.
Because that's exactly what you want as a small restaurant, being closed on a Friday night, right? And probably tomorrow, too, there's too many people on staff to really hope that we'll be able to build a skeleton crew for Saturday. And if either the chef or I come back positive, it's probably a matter of time for the other; we work too closely together for too much time in a confined space with relatively poor ventilation (so...a normal restaurant). If that happens, the restaurant is down for the count for two weeks. The line boys all have morning jobs, and I don't think even Whaldemar could crank things out fast enough.
I did my due diligence in May and am not one for thoughts and prayers...but maybe this once? I guess I have plenty of writing time on my hands.
