Last Days

Restaurants are places of regular upheaval. You might imagine that the constant demand for consistently excellent service and food would require a rather static body of highly trained personal. And, indeed, that reality might be a restaurateur’s fantasy. However, culinary art remains a creative field filled with high individualistic, transient folk – cooks come and cooks go. Chapter One, like other intensely seasonal venues of similar caliber, tends to have an even greater amount of turnover. Cooks might come for brief intervals like a particular growing season or just to learn some highly specialized skills.

Friday was Luke’s last day. He is going to Brazil, mostly for travel but maybe to work a bit if something crops up. In the morning we crowded round him to see mobile phone images of his dinner at Mint, another Michelin starred venue in Dublin. Cathal, our Chef de Cuisine, had spent his first shift off in weeks treating Luke to dinner the night before. What did you eat? What did he say? Are you coming back? We pelted Luke with questions throughout morning prep. Luke was nonchalant about the whole affair, “Cathal wants me to come back but I told him I want London. He said to choose cooking over impressive restaurant credentials, but I want to get thrown in the shit a bit first – crank out covers and get my ass kicked, ye know!” Luke is 25 and one year out of culinary college. His answer is exactly what I would have expected.

The night unfolded like a countdown. Every ticket was “Luke’s last Charcuterie plate” or “Luke’s last order of Goat’s Cheese.” He wrote down recipes, inventory lists, Facebook names, and “must-see” attractions in Brazil. When the last orders were sent out, everyone held their breath to hear what Ross would say … does he realize it is Luke’s last night? Will he acknowledge it? Like every night, Ross folded his kitchen towel, took his water glass to the dish sink and began to leave the kitchen. He paused and pivoted at the back step, “Good luck, Luke. Thank you for all your hard work. Enjoy yourself in Brazil – get as many [girls] as ye can … well, maybe let the first couple go by!” And then, still chuckling to himself, “See you lads tomorrow.”

Thursday was Marianne’s last day. She is returning home to France to work in a smaller kitchen where she hopes to finally move up the ladder a bit. Two weeks ago Marianne almost lost her job at Chapter One and instead she settled for leaving voluntarily. It is hard to say why Ross was dissatisfied with Marianne’s performance. In the end I think communication gaps were the main obstacle. If Luke’s departure was reminiscent of a Round Table knighting, Marianne might have been swimming the moat in the middle of the night. She had asked to leave by February 13th in order to clear her apartment and save a 700 euro deposit. Chapter One scheduled her to work through the 14th and then asked her to stay until the 21st to help train the new cook. She said no, “it is impossible.” They said you must, “it is in your contract.” She never showed up for work.

Marianne was my friend and I may have been the only one who knew the complexity of her situation, but I doubt her send off would have been much better, no matter how long she worked at Chapter One. It is unnecessary to account for the disparities between Luke’s last days and Marianne’s last days. We’ve all known this reality in the workplace. I am only glad that Marianne and I enjoyed a proper goodbye. And thanks to her kindness I now have a brilliant French peeler and a place to stay when I visit Bordeaux.