Yesterday, we had someone call in for 5 Giant pizzas. I quoted one hour for pick-up, and she reluctantly agreed while voicing that it seemed “too long” but that she was willing to wait.
Seriously? Too long?
A two-foot pie takes at least four minutes to toss, top, and get into the oven, and then another four to eight minutes to bake. We can only fit two Giant pies in our ovens at a time.
We ended up getting those five pies done in less than 35 minutes (ROCKSTAR STATUS!!!), and immediately had another Giant ordered with 1/3 soy cheese (read: extraExtra time to hand-shred and portion). All six pies were made, baked, and boxed in record time.
Then, this morning, we were pizza-making machines. We had an order for ten Giant pies to be delivered right in the middle of our lunch rush. We pulled it off so smoothly — it was almost strange. Shouldn’t we be flustered? Harried? Arguing?
Nope. Smooth like silk. We all know our strengths and weaknesses…. and we pulled of our busiest lunch rush of the year today without one stinkin’ hitch.
On top of all of this, tonight, our dinner rush was intense. We were at about 80% capacity, and had a full line of deliveries to get done. Three people on the line, one on ovens, two out front. That, my friends (and lurkers), is a big crew for our little restaurant.
Our crew is so jelled right now. I often find that we’re jiving so well that we don’t even have to talk. I’ll be rolling a stromboli and someone will grab the cheddar and put it in front of me, just moments before I need it. Or, we’ll be down to the last of our black olives and a FrontGal will be getting the next sixth-pan ready for us. We had a pie in the oven tonight that had to be topped with thinly-sliced cold tomatoes and BAM! someone was prepping them without even asking.
I am madly in love with our crew right now. What an amazing day.