Tonight is my fifth dinner service at Luna’s, Chef Maven’s Los Angeles restaurant. While consulting, I’m not typically on the line unless I’m covering a call out, but I like to spend my first couple of weeks at a new job right here in the thick of it, figuring out how they communicate and what their timing looks like.
It helps me cater their menu to their kitchen.
“Violet, we’re about to start service,” I remind her while organizing my station.
My stack of clean dish towels are right where I like them and my knives are ready and laid out in the proper order.
“I know. I know. But I wanted to show you the Food & Wine layout. They sent it over to me this morning. It looks amazing and the photos are fantastic. Everything is ready to go. They just need to add your interview and it’ll be off to the printers.”
Violet is nose deep on her iPad once again, looking through her emails to pull up the article.
“Vi, would you mind showing me later? Tonight is kind of frantic with a whole new dessert I wasn’t prepared to introduce until later this week.”
“Of course, Chef.” She stops what she’s doing. “Have you eaten today? You need to eat before the rush.”
Luna’s does a staff dinner every day before service starts. I, however, haven’t been able to partake in one yet, seeing as I’m using that downtime to interview with any and everyone who wants a piece of me.
“I’ll grab something.”
Except, I’m not hungry, and I can’t remember the last time I was.
I look over my station again, making sure that Jenny and Patrick, the two line cooks who are in charge of desserts, have everything ready for tonight.
Besides the poached pear that needs a bit of prep, we are good to go.
Through the pass-through window, I spot Chef Maven getting into position, my cue that doors are about to open and service is about to begin.
“Violet, I gotta get to work.”
“Okay. I have your phone. Where do you want it?”
“Would you mind dropping it by the house rental? It’s on your way home, right? I don’t need it tonight.”
“You got it! Have a great service.”
“Violet.” I point to my phone in her grasp. “Any important calls or texts?”
She hesitates. “An important email, actually. The photographer from the Food & Wine shoot emailed an image that didn’t make the cut for the magazine. You should check it out. It’s beautiful.”
My heart sinks with disappointment. Another day without hearing from him.
“I’ll look later. Thanks.”
“I need two Lobster Bolognese all day,” Chef Maven calls out to her line. “Jeremy, less truffle froth on the Bolognese. Your plating is getting crowded.”
“Yes, Chef.”
“Chef Montgomery, you’ve got two soufflés coming up. Table six and table ten.”
“Yes, Chef.” I eye the oven door, checking the count I currently have baking.
Maven runs a tight ship, but there’s not a person on her staff who isn’t top tier.
I chose this restaurant because I’ve been eager to work with Maven since she hosted a seminar while I was in culinary school. However, tonight is only the second night I’ve gotten the chance to work alongside her.
I’ve come to find out that Maven only spends two nights a week on her line, letting her second in command cover the rest. She works on ordering, menus, and prep during the day, then entrusts her line with dinner service while she heads home.
And they kill it. Every night.
“Chef Montgomery, I need one Bananas Foster all day.”
For the first time today, my heart skips, my hands freezing on the plate I’m currently working on.
The Bananas Foster is rarely ordered. It’s the off-menu vegan option, sauteed in a caramel-like sauce and served with a vegan butterscotch ice cream.
And I can’t hear it ordered without thinking of Max because yes, something as simple as bananas has me missing him and our days in the kitchen together.
Just like that, I’m jolted right back to that tearful goodbye seven days ago. How much it hurt to drive away from Chicago after leaving everyone outside of the stadium. How Max’s little blue eyes started tearing up, though he had no idea why, only that he saw me and his dad crying.
I’m convinced my heart has been ripped out of my chest and left with two boys two thousand miles away, and the only good thing about being so busy with interviews and line shifts is that, for the most part, I’ve been able to turn off my mind during those times and just work.