and in other news…

Steady day and stellar sales on Saturday.

Our former ovens/kitchen guy (JC) is home from college and had mentioned to us last week that if we wanted to take a night off? He’d be our guy.

So tonight? He was our guy.

Whitey and I were full speed all morning and that *one* FrontGal didn’t show up. Yeah. The gal that called me her “other mom” and called Whitey “Poppa Steve”. Whitey called her, but of course, she didn’t answer so he just left a message.

Live and learn. Loyalty lies with whom you lie/lay with (and if you don’t read out loud EACH word of that sentence and get what I’m talking about, you won’t find the genius in it.)

When our newest FrontGal showed up upon our opening hour, the three of us rocked it all.day.long.

THREE TIMES our normal Saturday lunch sales, and not a problem at all. Nada. Smiles all around. Right ON!

Whitey was emotionally exhausted, and I can’t blame him. He invests a lot of heart into these kids, and is pretty bummed out. We sent him home at 3:30, and JC, myself, and the two newest kitchen guys worked the back-of-the-house.

I chugged a Rockstar Energy drink, and watched our crew gel.

Want to know how I’m looking at this drama? Really and truly?

Oh LOOK! A speed bump.

“How’s that pizza up top – have you spun it? Get a box…. what’s up next? I can take it.”

Yeah. I can take it. But it doesn’t mean that I forgot to point the new security cameras towards the parking lot.

*betrayal*

My husband is a calm, patient, loyal and kind man. I’m a whip. I run the business, and he’ll be the first person to tell you that. If I’m not making food in the kitchen or running out orders, I’m in the office paying bills, doing the bookkeeping, returning phone calls, etc. Whitey works his butt off, yes, but still had to call me the other morning because he didn’t know how to sell a gift certificate. I’m okay with that. We’ve found our groove.

So back to my first two sentences….

To get Whitey pissed off would take a work of God. He’s the most laid-back guy I know, and he forgives easily – except when someone hurts his wife or is disloyal to our business.

I’ve been hurt, tremendously, and have only felt this type of betrayal once before in my life when my former husband cheated on me.

Without getting into too many details, I will only say that two people who we employed, two people who we took to Hawaii on vacation & that we were incredibly loyal to, are no longer employed at Paizano’s.

And tomorrow is a new day.

Let’s move on. There’s nothing to see here, folks.

Back in Spring

I didn’t get a chance to put her in the garage before the first big snow here in Baker. I don’t think she’s going anywhere for a few months. The plows have barricaded a pretty big wall on the other side, so I’m guessing she’s in hibernation until the Spring.

Welcome to Winter!

Fly on the wall

If you want to know what’s really going on at your place of business, listen in when you’re not around.

Then change your business plan accordingly.

I guess you were right, JB. Maybe we shouldn’t be so friendly.

Bummer.

Pat-on-the-head and cash in your pocket

When I was 19-years-old, I worked at an Italian restaurant called Sully’s in Bend, Oregon (where Jake’s Diner is now). I absolutely loved that job, and I was good at it. I learned to up-sell, recommend wines, and mastered the art of timing. My average ticket was much higher than other servers because of it. The owner recognized this, and so he asked me to teach the other servers about how to sell and serve wine. After my presentation, he slipped me a $20 bill.

I remember how stoked I was as I rode my bike home.

When he mentioned that the carpets needed cleaning I offered that he could save money by renting the machine and I’d get the job done on Sunday when we were closed. He paid me minimum wage for my hours, and handed me a cash bonus.

I eventually took a job at one of the finest dining establishments in Bend (at the time) called Rosette. It was a super classy place with superb food and service. The owner was there at all times overseeing everything, and when I did a particularly good job he’d pour me a glass of uber-expensive wine, or sometimes send me home with a bottle. I loved being rewarded for a job well done.

When I worked in sales at a radio station, I was given trade certificates for lunch, had an expense account, and had my hotel rooms while on personal vacations paid for. Once, the entire crew was taken to the Oregon coast for a “Retreat” where we bonded over fresh seafood and playing on the beach.

When I worked for the Los Angeles Daily News, I earned the title of Salesperson of the Year, and received a trip to Paris and a large cash bonus. Years later, I won the same honor at the Bulletin newspaper and was presented a check for over two-thousand dollars.

I haven’t mentioned working for the Yellow Pages, or for a local NBC station, or for a glossy magazine company. Those companies had no incentive program in place to reward their employees. No bonuses, no perks, no pats on the head “good dog” policies. I was still a top producer for these companies, but didn’t feel valued. I stayed no longer than 18 months at any of these places. When I gave notice, it was only then that I was offered a higher commission or quota bonuses. Too little too late.

Sully’s, Rosette, The Daily News and the Bulletin were my favorite jobs. I worked hard, made the companies money, was proud of my job, and was rewarded for it.

I haven’t forgotten that now that I’m an employer.

The trip we took to Hawaii was a bit over-the-top, yes, but I feel it will inspire loyalty and hard work in the next year. It also should inspire new employees to work hard and stick around. The restaurant business is notorious for employee turnover, thus keeping a trained person loyal is crucial to its success.

Besides the vacation, I make sure to reward our staff in other ways. Gift certificates to a local salon, free hotel rooms while out-of-town, jewelry, taking them to lunch or dinner, sending them home with a new brew or bottle of wine… and of course, the cash bonus on particularly busy nights.

Most of our crew are young adults without a lot of job experience. I often wonder if it’s assumed that all future jobs will be as rewarding. It took me quite a few jobs to realize the generosity of a company, because hindsight is 20/20.

It’s why I still consider working at Sully’s 17 years ago to have been one of my favorite past jobs.

First snowfall, and some bad news

It’s dumping white stuff here right now. I’m guessing we’ve received about four inches of snow (based on the height of the accumulation on the car), and there’s no signs of it stopping.

Whitey called me from work to ask where the snow shovel was, and we both paused and spoke at the same time about the same thing.

Jim.

Jim was our mystery snow shoveler last year who would show up and clear our sidewalks. In return, we’d buy he and his wife, Erma, a pizza and a pitcher of beer once a week.

Erma came in to the restaurant recently to let us know that Jim had passed away. He went up fishing and was planning on staying the night in his truck. He ended up freezing to death.

Within a week or so, Erma had packed up and moved to an assisted living facility.

And so life goes.

Rest in peace Jim.

Have a laugh

It’s pretty apparent that I’m a dog person. I have yet to meet a dog I don’t immediately love. Big, furry, drooling ones are my favorite!

My friend Toni sent me a link to this video, and I just loved it. It’s a must-share:

Enjoy!

Unbelievably blessed

We have a customer who has been coming in on a regular basis for the past two years. He’s rides his bike usually, and is just one of those guys who is always down on his luck. When he does get a job, it’s as a hired hand doing painting, tile work, or just helping out a contractor. But the job gets finished, he gets paid, and he’s out looking for another job.

He lives on the opposite side of town from our restaurant in a small, run-down house. He keeps the yard clean, though, and grows a spectacular vegetable garden. Not for fun, of course, but for food. Corn, zucchini, pumpkins, tomatoes, and tons of squash. He brought me some veggies once, and I traded him for a slice of pizza and a beer. I used the squash to make my famous soup, remember?

Last Christmas Eve, he brought in the daughter of a friend just so she could see our tree with its spinning disco balls. I treated them both to hot chocolate and he thanked me later, saying that his friend didn’t have much money and this little girl had never had hot chocolate before.

He’s always smiling, even when times are rough, and has a really positive attitude. He loves our pizza, and if he’s working steadily and has some money in his pocket, he’ll come in for our $6 dollar lunch special (usually on a Sunday so that he can watch some football). A foot-long slice of gourmet pizza, a fresh salad, and a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. We’ll talk sports, or about his family, and I’ve gotten to know him fairly well.

We hadn’t seen him in awhile, and when he showed his face yesterday both Whitey and I greeted him as if he were an old friend. He bought a lunch special, and sat down near the Christmas tree.

I went over to talk with him, and asked how he was. He smiled and said, “Could be better, but I’ve got a little money in my pocket and a hot lunch to look forward to. I’m just taking it day by day.”

He looked skinny, and when I said so he laughed and said “That’s what being homeless in Baker City will do to ya. At least walking around so much has some benefits.”

“What happened to your house?” I asked. He explained that he had been renting, and the owner sold it. He didn’t have enough money to find another place to live, what with deposits and first and last month rent due up front. So he was living in a shed somewhere south of town, and for heat he had a small fire pit that he had dug in the dirt.

We’ve been experiencing below-zero temperatures, and the thought of sleeping in a shed with only a small fire to keep warm made me feel terrible for him.

When I asked him where his bike was, he said that he had run out of money, so he sold it for $75.

“I don’t mind walking,” he said. “And a guy I know is going to haul down a trailer from Sumpter sometime in the next couple of weeks that he said I could use until I get on my feet again. We’re gonna park it a few miles out of town and I’ll just hunker down for the winter. People will be building again in the spring and I’ll find work.”

His lunch arrived, and so I got back to work. As I stood behind the counter, I watched as he slowly ate his lunch while reading a paperback Science Fiction novel, taking small sips of his beer. He had a large backpack, probably filled with basic survival things and extra clothes.

I’m a realistic person. I’m not going to invite him to move in with me. But yet I felt like I had to do some small act, something of compassion for this guy.

I left and went home, picked up my bike, took it to get the tires inflated, and brought it back to work. I set it outside for him and when he left, told him to take it. He said no, and then realized that he could probably use a bike, so he then said that he’d pay me for it someday.

“Nope,” I said. “Consider it a Christmas present. You can use it, sell it, whatever. It makes me feel better, so I’m actually being selfish.”

I can’t imagine how awful it would be to be homeless. Jobless. No friends or family to turn to. I have a modest home with a warm bed and all the food I can eat. I have dozens of friends, lots of family, tons of love at every turn. I have clean water, great health, transportation, and want for nothing. I want for nothing. I have it all.

This guy isn’t stupid. He’s well-read, graduated from school, is kind and hard-working. He’s just down-trodden. Any one of us could end up like this.

Sometimes it takes seeing the other side to appreciate how many simple blessings we have in our everyday lives.

Cost of Doing Business

We recently had a local VIP call in and ask if we would stay open a little later so that their group of about 9 people could come in after a local football game.

We normally close at 9 p.m. and yet we agreed to stay open for them. They said they’d be there shortly after 9 o’clock, and we figured we’d be done by 10 or 10:15. It would mean an extra hour of payroll time per employee, but I figured it was the nice thing to do. They could have gone somewhere else, but they chose US – how can I say no?

We might break even; probably not, but whatever.It’s the cost of doing business, right?

They showed up at 10:15 and stayed until 11:30. After cleaning up after them, the three remaining employees finally clocked out at 11:45 p.m.

It was an extra 9.5 hours of payroll to sell $45 dollars worth of food.

My bad. It won’t happen again.

Our Report Card / Cleaning Up

We had another Health Inspection recently.

It’s the fourth inspection that we have received since opening. I still get freaked out when they show up, even though I know we take great pains to be sure that our kitchen is spotless. OCD helps with that.

Our score? 100%. A+.

I love it when the inspector orders food afterward, too.

As if I should put it on the readerboard “#1 LUNCH CHOICE OF THE HEALTH INSPECTOR”

So even though we’re very thorough about cleaning, there are always those things that I notice that isn’t up to par. Hence “The Spot” – which honestly, we haven’t done in a long time, because everything has been stellar.

In the past few days though, I’ve noticed some things that absolutely need to be cleaned. Nothing that is detrimental to the food quality; just regular cleaning that isn’t getting done. And yes, it’s on the closing list.

So the contest is back on, with $10 bucks in each Front of the House and Back of the House spot. Kris got up on a ladder and washed the entire oven hood tonight, then smiled and asked if it was “the spot”. Nope, but hey, pretty freakin’ cool to have a clean hood again.

Stealing

When I was very young, I’m guessing about 8 or 9-years-old, I stole money from my mom.

I had watched her in the past hide cash in a vase above her dresser, underneath a flower arrangement.

One day, my friends Hossanah and Michael and I ran out of quarters at the local arcade, and it occurred to me that I could easily peel off a dollar from that wad of money; mom would never notice.

I ran home, and instead grabbed five single dollars. We changed them in and played video games all afternoon, even splurging for some slurpees for our walk home.

A few days later, I did it again. Then, the next day I went to get more money and all of the small bills were gone. I took a twenty instead. We played Pac-Man and Asteroids for hours, and then went to Holiday Mart and bought a toy Pepsi machine and a remote-control car. I don’t recall how many days, or exactly many dollars I eventually went through, but I do remember getting caught.

I was at Hossanah and Michael’s house when my mom called. Hossanah handed the big, black rotary dial phone receiver to me and I was told to come home “NOW!” in a very angry voice.

My mom was in tears. That money was for our rent on our apartment, and now we were very, very short. She was emptying her spare handbags and piling loose change on the bed while sobbing.

I felt awful. Terrible. Hated. I felt like she should hit me, spank me, throw me out the 3-story window. Anything would feel better than the betrayal that I had just caused her to feel and the despair that was so apparent on her face.

————————————–

The young man who stole out of our tip jar not too long ago came in again recently. He had changed his bleached blonde hair to a more normal brown color, and was wearing respectable clothes. It was his lisp that reminded me who he was.

“You colored your hair,” I said.

His eyes widened, and POW! I realized that yes, this was the same kid.

“You stole out of the tip jar! How dare you? Get out of here. NOW!” I demanded, walking from behind the counter. I followed him outside and told him that he was never to step foot on our property again as he jogged away.

————————————-

A group of people come in to a restaurant and one of the servers decides to not charge these customers for a few of their beers; the people are “friends”.

————————————–

While clocked-in and the bosses are away, an employee sips on a lemonade while reading the newspaper.

————————————–

Every one of these instances is an example of theft.

When I purposefully took money from my mom, I knew it was wrong, but figured that there was so many individual dollar bills, she’d never notice. When the kid took money out of the tip jar, he probably felt the same way. When a server comps a few beers, my guess would be it’s because it’s presumed that there are so many beers, the employer won’t notice. When an employee is relaxing while on the clock, it is costing the employer money which is a theft of its own.

Unless the person feels remorse, it is almost guaranteed to happen again.

Getting caught won’t fix anything. Understanding why the act is theft, and feeling guilty about it is the only cure to having it not happen again.

Mmmm Owww Eee

We recently took a trip to Maui, closing down Paizano’s for ten days.

After over two years of working 7-days a week, and thinking that working an 7-hour day is a “day off”, we finally took a vacation. We figured, hey, everyone else takes 52 days off a year… it’s called SUNDAYS.

As a bonus, we took our friends employees with us. Rules were that they had to be long-timers working full-time, so while we had originally planned for four of our crew, only three made the trip with us; Calhoun had already left for college, plus, he and his mom were already planning a trip that would conflict with our dates.

Whitey worked the lunch on our last day at work, and then went home to pack and try to sneak in a nap. I worked from 3 until 10:30, then raced home to pack and then pick up the crew in the delivery van. Flour was still in my hair from tossing pies, and I smelled of de-greaser and pizza. Nice.

Plane ride to Maui

We arrived in Kahului, Maui at 11:30 a.m. the next day, and we spent the entire day unwinding, stocking the fridge, and ridding ourselves a severe jet-lag.

———————————————————–

Our first night, we grilled kal-bi & beef teriyaki, ate a huge meal, and everyone passed out at 8 o’clock to the sound of waves crashing on the beach.

Charley mans the grill

Good thing we got a great night’s sleep, because the next morning we had to be at Ma’alaea Harbor at 6 a.m. for our departure on a snorkel tour. It ended up being one of the highlights of our trip.

We watched the sun rise as we were served homemade Cinnamon rolls and fresh brewed coffee.

Sunrise over Molokai

we now return to our regularly scheduled programming…

What’s it been? A month? I haven’t blogged in a long, long time. Thank you to those of you who stopped in to the restaurant to ask why — and thank you for the emails. I didn’t realize that my little snippets of life were part of your routine online browsing. Pretty cool.

Part of the reason I stopped was that there is a “Special Person” who had been sending me horrible emails. Anonymously, of course.  All of the content was based upon things that I would write about, so I guess any positive success that we would have would become fodder for hate on their part. Sure enough, during my hiatus, the emails have stopped. I have a pretty good feeling as to who this Special Person is, and now, really could care less.

So. I’m back. And I’m gonna put it alllllll out there.

Out of Town

Real cowboys eat at Paizano’s.

This particular young man is sweet on one of our front girls. He stopped in to pick up lunch, spurs and all.

He may be great on the ranch, but he’ll never make it as a pizza delivery driver:

You can almost hear the toppings sliding to the back of the box. YIKES! I hollered at him to straighten out the pies, and he just laughed.

———————————–

I took Kris to the food show in Idaho a few days ago. We stayed at the Hampton Suites (which I highly recommend to anyone staying in Boise) and went to dinner at Chandlers Steakhouse.

They were having a winemaker’s dinner, and the place was packed!

Kris was a little intimidated by the menu, so I ordered for both of us.

“What’s Esss Car Go?” she asked, after I ordered our appetizer.

“It’s deliciousness,” I replied.

We inhaled our snails, sopping up every drop of the garlicky butter with crunchy bread. The look on her face was priceless when I told her what she was eating.

We split a gorgeous spinach salad with a warm goat cheesecake, then had our entrees: seared ahi tuna and a Kobe flat iron steak. Everything was amazing. Everything.

Our server brought Kris a birthday dessert of Grand Marnier chocolate souffle, and we were barely had any room to eat half of it.

The food show the next day was crowded and loud. We munched on a variety of food items, and filled our bags with tons of samples. We made our rounds twice, then bolted for some quick shopping at nearby retail stores.

Namely the restaurant supply store & Costco.

And at Costco, I was sold.

I love being sold something. The pitch, the bullet-point list of “benefits”, the presentation.

And this lady at Costco? She had me at zucchini.

As we were walking by, she announced into her little headseat that she was adding ZUCCHINI into her blender to make a berry sorbet. I stopped in my tracks.

Sure enough, a few seconds later she doled out the samples, and it was delicious! Even the little kids standing around were devouring it. She quickly cleaned out the blender and a minute later, was feeding us samples of chicken tortilla soup. Then, the “Green Drink” which one of the moms standing nearby called the “Shrek Drink”.

This:

(I took this photo just moments ago – BREAKFAST!)

The color is of algae. The flavor is unbelievable!

Fresh spinach, a tablespoon of 100% white grape juice concentrate, a half a lime with it’s rind still on, and ice. I’m telling you, it’s really quite good.

So I’m now the proud owner of a Vita-Mix 5200. The recipe book is so cool – I can’t wait to make gazpacho, soups, smoothies, oh! and margaritas… with whole limes!

Swine Flu?

We had a regular customer come in yesterday who works at the hospital. He said that they have two separate waiting rooms now for “Sick” or “Injured” patients.

Those with influenza symptoms are tested for the Swine Flu. In a two-day period, 77 young adults were tested; 74 came back positive for the Swine Flu.

Another regular customer is a middle-school teacher. She came in yesterday and told me that over 30% of her class was out sick with the flu.

I’m terrified of getting sick, and just as scared that someone at our restaurant will get sick just before we leave on vacation (in 9 days!).

I’ve put a can of sanitizer in the delivery bag, and have instructed everyone to soap up after taking a delivery and handling cash. I’m washing my hands every time I walk away from the front counter after talking to someone. I have sanitizing gels in my purse, car, and on my desk.

Chuck Norris (one of our kitchen crew who is going with us on vacation) said that he hopes that it doesn’t rain while we’re in Hawaii. I told him that I would rather it rain every single day than to have one of us get sick with Swine Flu before we go.

Counting down….

9 days.

Here’s a Tip…. Get LOST!

The day before High School started, a young man came in to Paizano’s and ordered a slice of pizza. He sat down, and looked rather sullen while he slowly ate his meal.

I pretended to wipe down a table next to him, just so I could strike up a conversation.

He admitted that he was nervous about starting school; he said that people generally picked on him, and that he was sure that would be the case with his new high school as well.

He had bleached blonde, crispy hair, and spoke with a seemingly-purposeful lisp. He wore flamboyant clothing and walked with a runway style that Tyra Banks would be proud of. He definitely was not a ranch kid. 

We spoke for a while about bullies, and I invited him to come in after his first day at school; that I wanted to hear all about it.

He obliged, and came in the next afternoon. It wasn’t as bad as he had expected, he said. He had met some other kids that he got along with, and he was excited to go back the next day.

Cool.

So for the past few weeks he’s been popping in to say hi, not buying anything, but just walking around the dining room and waving at me every so often from the parking lot.

Today, however, he was banned forever from entering our restaurant.

He stole tips out of the jar.

The jar is there, to the left of the photo. It says “Employee 401-K” on the label, and the tips are shared by all of the crew at the end of the day (divided amongst everyone based on how many hours they’ve worked).

So, lispy blonde boy came in this morning and spooked one of our front gals. When I arrived, she mentioned it and I blew it off, telling her that he was harmless.

Later in the afternoon, he came back and stood at the counter with a menu, then using it as a shield to block the view of the customers, he purposefully reached into the tip jar and shoved a wad of cash into his front pocket.

One of our customers watched it happen, and her husband (who is in law enforcement) confronted him. The kid bolted out the front door.

Seriously.

Now, of course, we’re all replaying every instance that he’s been in just hanging out, and realizing that those were the same days that tips were much lower than usual.

I’m pretty angry with this kid. It’s a small enough town that I’m sure I’ll see him again, yet, I could also go to the High School and confront him with one of the counselors.

It’s a few dollars, sure, but it really upset our staff who work very hard to earn their tips.

What to do….

Pizza Art

A customer recently left this on the table for us:

How cool is that?

Mid-week Mayhem

Yesterday (Tuesday) was my day off… and I almost

(almost)

didn’t take off my PJs for the entire day. I’ve always wanted to “work from home” in my boxer shorts and fuzzy slippers. Unfortunately, I’m not smart enough.

Backtracking…. so on Monday night, I was allowed to leave work an hour early, so I immediately went to El Erradero (great Mexican food) for take-out. I ended up having a few too many of their incredibly potent margaritas with some friends, and got home a tad late.

Suffice to say that I was plenty thankful that I had the next day off.

I worked on some graphic design stuff for advertisements, did the schedule (my favorite thing ever <sarcasm>), and watched three episodes of Hells Kitchen. I was having the best day EVER, right?

So six o’clock rolls around and I’m doing laundry, feeling domestic, life is great… and I hear my phone beep with a text message.

Whitey had sent me this:

Basically, I had two missed calls and that photo (of the line swamped with tickets) sent to my cell phone while I was busy being a domestic goddess, and each of them were frantic.

HELP!

I was not a lovely sight when I showed up at the restaurant with frizzy hair, no makeup, shorts and one of Whitey’s T-shirts…. but they didn’t care. Ovens/Dish guy had called in sick, and they had one want for me:

Just make pizza.

Roll, toss, stretch, sauce, cheese, top, slide (into the oven).

Repeat.

It was mayhem. We were quoting three hour deliveries, and still we were hearing the ticket printer beat on.

Thankful? Yes. Stressed? Yes.

We got through it, and the true rush only lasted an hour or so, but man — I swear I have two new forehead wrinkles because of it.

So today? Rainy and gloomy outside. I woke up thinking it’ll be slow.

Nope. Just as busy, if not moreso. Lunch was steady… but dinner?

Oh dinner. How do I love thee?

Ovens/Dish guy is still sick, so it was Whitey and I plus the new guy (Wonderbread) and our veteran front gal, Kristen. Kris had called her backup front gal and told her not to come in; that she could handle a Wednesday night by herself.

That, my friends, is what I like to call Jinxing something.

By the end of the night, I was covered in flour and utterly exhausted, having done about 30 more covers than the night before.

Kristen had done a tremendous job in working a dining room of 50 people without one customer complaint; in fact, even receiving 20% tips in our QSR that usually receives 5%. She takes such pride in a job well-done, regardless of the job at hand.

She’ll even work the dish hole if it means helping out her co-workers:

No, you can’t steal her. I’ve adopted her… not legally, but she thinks so.

We leave for vacation in less than two weeks. Kristen doesn’t know how to swim, so we have to rent her some floaties or a life jacket. I figure if she can keep her head above water on a hectic night at Paizano’s, she’ll have no problem in the warm waters of the Pacific Ocean.

13 days.

You so wild

I’ve always loved that song….

Wild Ting, you make my heart sing, you make EVERY ting, groovy!

Happy Boss’

Bosses’

Boss’s

Happy Day of the Boss to you!

Sign of the Times

I couldn’t help but pick this up at a local gift shop:

This sign should be a life mantra. Be NICE or LEAVE!

Have a nice day!