Busy on Christmas Eve

We were so flippin’ busy at the restaurant today. With only MIL and I in the front, and our kitchen gal and Whitey in the back, we were running all afternoon. I actually broke a sweat at one point. In three hours, we sold twice what we normally do for an entire afternoon… and everything went so smoothly.

Whitey is a perfectionist, so having him in control of the kitchen was great. Even when I’d run back and repeat a compliment, or tell him how happy people were out front, he’d comment how it could have been better. Bah! I’d say, and take out another order.

We had thought we were going to close at 3pm. Yeah, right. MIL and the kitchen gal left, and POW! we were busy again.

For the next five hours, we did a steady stream of pizza-eaters. And even with the signs saying CLOSED and all of the outdoor lights turned off, people still popped their heads in to see if we were open. Sure, I’d say. We’re open until everyone is full and happy.

Speaking of which, check this out.

A couple walked in at about eight o’clock, and while looking over the menu, the guy asks if I own the place (to which I always reply, No, the bank owns it but they’re happy to have me work here!) and then he asks…

Where Are You From?

Famous last words, right? I laughed – “The last guy who asked that was a complete jerk. Where are YOU from?”

New Jersey.


We then talked about the fine art of Stromboli, how lucky you are to discover a good Jewish Deli, and where he’d eaten the best pastrami sandwich, or corned beef on rye, or a chewy bagel with lox and capers.

I made the mistake of describing to Whitey these particular customers who had ordered a Stromboli with smoked oysters, mushrooms, and olives and the Meatball Sub.

After the meals were out sent out, Whitey kept peering out of the reach-thru window trying to see their reaction. Go ask them, he demanded, and make ’em be honest……

JerseyDude said that it was a delicious sandwich, and his wife wouldn’t stop raving about her Stromboli. They had to wrap up a bit of it to go, though, because it was too big to finish. They stopped by the kitchen and gave props to Whitey, then dropped a ten dollar bill in the tip jar on their way out the door.

Wow. What a night.

We finally got home around 10 o’clock, exhausted, and yet satisfied with a stellar day.

This entry was posted in All About Us, baker city, Our Pizzeria, why I love my husband. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s