“No one but you would notice the chiffonade,” Chris challenged.
Pressure built up behind Alec’s eyes. “What did you say?”
“Most people toss that aside.” Chris shrank back a step or two.
Clearly, none of these cooks had trained under the masters in Europe. They hadn’t worked eighteen-hour shifts on their feet for twenty grand a year and slept on hostel floors just for the chance to learn from the best.
“How do you think a restaurant earns a James Beard Award, or, if Michelin ever expands its US review territories to include the Northwest, a star? By being lazy? By ignoring the little details? No. No!” Alec’s palm slammed against the metal counter. He needed each of them to adopt his perspective if he had any chance of making Colby’s restaurant the best, or of winning awards and proving to his dad and the world that his talent wasn’t a fluke or a joke. “Every single plate that leaves this kitchen must, must, meet the standard I set. It will be perfect. It will be clean. It will be consistent. No one knows which customer out there is a critic. You can’t afford not to be perfect every single time.”
Chris dimly stared back at Alec, as if Alec were a madman. “Okay.”
“Okay? Putain!” Alec turned toward the rest of the cook staff, voice tight and rough. “Do none of you have the passion required to be the best? To produce the finest meals in the area? Because if you don’t aim for perfection, then I don’t want you in this kitchen.”
“Alec?” Colby’s voice cut through the room.
He whipped his neck around. “Yes?”
She offered a conciliatory smile to his staff. “Could I please see you out here for a minute?”
Alec noticed Chris’s smug satisfaction. Whether intentional or not, Colby had undermined Alec at a critical moment. He forced a lid over his temper. “Of course.”
He followed her into the dining room, counting to three in his head while she straightened her pencil skirt. For chrissakes, did she think he had time for a lecture? He didn’t need to be micromanaged in his own kitchen. Her restaurant, his kitchen, dammit.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “I heard you yelling from out here.”
“The staff isn’t up to par, Colby, and I only have a couple of weeks to train them.”
“Training? It sounded like screaming to me.”
Alec inhaled slowly, reminding himself that Colby disliked conflict and had never once worked in any kitchen. She had no idea of the difficulty, the coordination, the trust and teamwork that needed to be pulled off, hour after endless hour. He resented the way she now looked at him with distaste. Her husband had been a loudmouth, so why Alec’s behavior bothered her, he couldn’t quite say. “I need them to do exactly as I say. Exactly. If they don’t learn to work like clockwork, you’ll have increased costs beginning with wasted inventory and ending with higher workers’ comp claims because of injuries. That means I can’t have you undercut my authority.”
“Surely there’s a more respectful way to earn their respect and cooperation.” She folded her arms. “I told you, I want this restaurant to be a happy place for everyone.”
“This is a restaurant, not a spiritual retreat. Surely you understand the difference.” When his remark caused her to scowl, he blew out a breath. “Sorry. But if you want to ensure that your guests have an exquisite experience from the moment they enter to the moment they leave, let me worry about the kitchen staff’s ‘feelings.’”
“I don’t want to work in a war zone, Alec.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Now who’s exaggerating?”
She looked him up and down. “When did you become an arrogant jerk?”
“When did you become a fragile flower?” He reeled in his emotions, reminding himself she was his boss, not his employee. “I can’t believe you’re offended by me after spending so many years with Joe and Mark.”
Her mouth fell open. “Don’t change the subject. I’m trying to avoid a spate of harassment suits.”
“Harassment?” He practically choked on the word. “I’m setting the standard by which they must perform. It’s your restaurant, but it’s my reputation on the line, Colby. No one cares who owns the restaurant. The executive chef gets all the credit or all the blame. So don’t tell me to relax—or how to do my job—when you’ve never worked in a kitchen.”
“I asked you before not to belittle me.” Her voice had grown deadly quiet.
He raised his hands overhead. “Since when is stating facts belittling?”
“Since you keep dismissing my concerns as if I have no brain. I might not have kitchen experience, but I know poor management when I see it. I’m telling you right now, I won’t tolerate constant turnover. Maybe you had to endure shitty ‘training’ as a young chef, but I bet you didn’t like it much. Be a better man and find a better way.” Before he could respond, she twirled on her heel and stalked off, leaving him stewing in his own stomach acid.
Seemed she now made a habit of quick exits after laying down the law, so to speak.
Be a better man and find a better way.
Those words echoed in his mind as he made his way back into the kitchen. No doubt the staff had overheard their discussion.
For most of his life, he’d been considered weak. Quiet, thoughtful, a little shy. The kitchen had been the one—the only—place where he’d reigned supreme. Where he’d had complete confidence and control. If she expected him to go back to being that Alec everyone else pushed around or ignored, she’d better think again.
She didn’t appreciate his style? Too bad. It had worked for generations of chefs, and had made Une Bouchée an award-winning establishment. His dad would respect it. “No holds barred” had been that man’s motto for as long as Alec could remember. No one had criticized Joe for taking it to heart, so Alec wouldn’t worry about Colby’s current perception. Securing his dad’s respect, reclaiming his reputation, making her restaurant the best. That had to be the priority.
She’d forgive him once A CertainTea was featured in Bon Appétit.
“So, tell me. Who isn’t willing to meet my standards?” Find a better way. What Colby didn’t know was that there was no better way. “It won’t be easy, but a year from now, you’ll be proud of what we’ll accomplish together. You’ll learn more than you’ve ever learned before, too, but it won’t come without some pain and suffering.”
They all stared at him in silence. Some looked barely older than twenty-one. Good God, had he ever been that young?
“Shall I take your silence as meaning you’re on board? That each of you understands that every single detail matters?”
“Yes, Chef” came the reply in unison.
“Good. Let’s try again, from the beginning.” Alec called out a number of orders from the menu in another attempt to create a real-time test. “The soft opening is only two and a half weeks away. Let’s be ready.”
Yet despite his private pep talk, Colby’s words disrupted his concentration. Be a better man and find a better way.
Chapter Six