Yes Chef a Greenville Story

YES CHEF A GREENVILLE STORY

Preamble Ramble: Even though its mentioned several times, East Carolina University is in several stories and based in Greenville. If you love purple and yellow you'll love the real Greenville. Why do I use ECU, because I visited Greenville and thought it was a cool school and one of the bigger ones in the state. Even though they suck in most sports.

I was thinking I should use more HBCU's in my stories since most of my characters are Black which I feel bad about not doing. So I changed the school Adam went to from East Carolina in Trashman to North Carolina AT&T, Go Aggies!

The Greenville stories are connected yet independent. The first in the series if you can call it that would be Double Fault, followed by Trash Man. The Mouse that Roared, Plus One 1 & 2 and Cancer 1 & 2. So I decided to date the upcoming stories.

I don't have an editor which you can tell by the mistakes. I consider myself well educated but I'm finding English is my 2

nd

language and bad English is my 1

st

. I read these stories several times. Even letting it sit and going back 1 or 2 days later to see of I can spot mistakes.

I hope you enjoy the story.

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March 2002

"2 FISH, 1 STEAK, 1 SHRIMP"

"Yes Chef" everyone in the kitchen yelled. Even if they weren't involved in making those dishes.

"Fire one special" the head chef barks.

"Yes Chef" we all responded, especially the Sous Chef who had to make the special because somehow it was either missed or a late substitution.

Our popular midtown restaurant, Capers and Lemons, on a typical Friday night would do 250 to 300 covers. A cover is a meal. That's what we call it in the business. Cover includes appetizer, entree and desert. One seating is a cover. We have a 90 seat dining room so its important to not only have the food ready and on time but we have to have different meals for the same table ready at the same time. Fish cooks faster than a steak. God forbid some Neanderthal orders a steak well done. So there's always communications between stations. Fish is talking to meat, Sauces are talking to everyone. Whoever is on deserts has it easy. You never, ever want one meal coming out before the others are ready and second worst thing is having food sitting at the pass waiting for the other meals to be ready.

We need to turn each table 2 to 3 times a night. We open at 5pm and close at 11pm. But some kitchen staff have been here starting at 5am. People don't see the back end and behind the scenes of what it takes to make a restaurant successful. We get fresh product everyday. So we need 1 or 2 porters with a Garde Manager who checks each and everything that comes in to make sure it meets the Executive Chefs standards. He might be the second most important person in the restaurant besides the EC. Can you imagine the chaos of having bad fish or rotten vegetables during service or prep!

A Saucier or sauce chef who's one job it to make sauces and that can take all day to prepared and nothing is held over night. Whatever is left is thrown away. And when you have from 8 to 12 sauces, well that's a lot of work. Other prep usually includes preparing the fish which comes in whole. Various meats that need to be butchered.

Let me introduce myself, I'm Nishan Desta, 26 years old classically trained chef from the Culinary Institute of America. I'm proud of that accomplishment considering where I cam from. I'm originally from a small city in Ethiopia called Harar in the central part of the country with only 100,000 people. Because of the false narrative propagated by western media people think of Africa as people running around barefoot living in mud built huts with no running water. Yes some places are like that but not all. Harar is a modern city with 5 to 6 story buildings. Its almost like any western city. Imagine a city like, I don't know, Newark NJ without the crime, or a small Albany NY without the cold. Don't believe the narrative Africa. We have a saying,

If Africa is so poor why does it support so many countries

.

My culinary journey was a little different than most. I started cooking with my mother, Menan which means Grace, at her roadside stand. She was a great cook. The place was always busy so she provided a good standard of living for not only me but my brother and 2 little sisters. My father died when I was 12 in an oil field accident. His small insurance policy let my mother be able to start her restaurant stand. Being the oldest I helped my mom the most. My sisters Selam 13, Raey 10 and brother Bekele 16 helped after school and doing their homework. It helped that the stand was in our front yard.

My mother wanted more not just for me but all her children. She sent me to live with her brother Abel and his family in Liverpool England when I turned 18. I went to secondary school, which is like High School in America for my last year. I worked part time at different restaurants and landed a full time job at The Black Horse restaurant after I graduated. I thought I knew how to cook but found out cooking traditional foods in Ethiopia was different than cooking other foods. The Black Horse specialized in transitional English food. Fish & Chips, Meat pies with Mushy peas, Full English breakfast on Sundays and Roast dinners on the weekends. I made a mean brown sauce and of course curry. I started as a dishwasher but soon worked my way up to prep cook and finally line cook. The head chef, Ethan, liked my work ethic. I was always on time and volunteering for any job that needed to be done. He taught me so much in the 2 years I was there.

I loved living in England. There is a large African population all over the country. Unlike America there is no Black English culture. We have culture from out countries. Its hard to explain if you're not Black or African-English. The social life was vibrant and at times wild. I was never a party person but I got out every once in a while. Usually going to the local Pub, The Hook and Horn. Watching Liverpool FC beat Arsenal or especially Manchester U. Whenever that happened it was Carnival in the streets. I thought football was big in Africa. England takes it to another level. I met my share of lasses during my time there. Never anything serious. I was just trying to live life. At 20 I wasn't looking to settle down.

Unbeknownst to me Ethan submitted an application on my behalf to the Culinary Institute of America in New York. He had several friends there on staff and I was accepted for the next term. He was also in communication with my mother and Uncle. Between the the three of them I would be able to not only go but not have to pay anything out of pocket. At 21 I was making my second big move to another country. This time with no support system except myself.

After the two years I was at the CIA I thought again I had learned everything you needed to be a successful chef. That was until I took my first job in New York City at Queen City Grill. The grill part of name did not convey the true depth of the menu. It was more modern French than a typical American style grill. I was 24 living in one of the biggest cities in the world doing what I loved to do. My work life was great but my social life was non-existent. I was living with three other blokes in a small 3 story walk up apartment. I worked 10 to 12 hours a day with one day off. I was usually to tired to do anything except laundry and lay around watching TV. 18 months later Queen City was closing. I got lucky and got a job at Lemons and Capers as a Chef de Partie, a fancy term for line chef. L&C was a classical Italian place. So I've been cooking traditional Ethiopian, traditional English, Classical French in England and now modern Italian in America.

I had been there for 6 months when we hired a new pastry chef. When the Ryan the Sous Chef introduced her around I was speechless. She was tall at 5 foot 9 inches, beautiful clear sepia colored skin, somewhat thin without being skinny. She had the most interesting accent. And she was Ethiopian! We were told her name was Harriet. Most Africans have taken English names because their regular names sometimes are hard for English speakers to say. Her real name was Haset I later learned. Her name meant Joy or happiness. I could tell she was Oromo. It had been a while since I met someone from my homeland.

I just had a second to say hello and welcome as she was shown around the kitchen by her assistant pastry chef. I was surprised she was hired from the outside. Many times restaurants like to promote from within. I wondered if there would be any friction between the staff. So far we all got along pretty well.

Over the months the restaurants reputation continued to grow. Harriett proved to be a valuable asset. Her pastries and deserts were widely recognized and had received great reviews. We had been nominated for a James Beard Award and where hoping for a Michelin Star. We went from 100 covers a night to 200-250 a night. The kitchen was firing on all cylinders.

In the restaurant business a woman is definitely a minority. A minority woman is a unicorn. I wasn't interested in Harriet because a lack of choices. I was attracted because she was beautiful. We didn't have much interaction. She worked from 6am to 4pm most days preparing the deserts for night service. When we did work the same time I would catch her looking my way every now and she never spoke to me besides asking a question related to business. I noticed that she would come by my station and "accidentally" bump into me. I say accidentally because its very rare in the business. You hear people yelling "corner", "behind" "Sharp" as they walk through the kitchen. There are lots of opportunity for accidents to happen. I knew she had to much experience for that to happen.

I hadn't much of a chance to talk to Harriet. One day before our shift about 6 months after she started I decided to throw caution to the wind and ask her out. Thankfully she said yes. We both were working 6 days a week, 10 to 12 hours a day. So we decided to have breakfast before one of our shifts. Dating was difficult with our schedules. But we made it work somehow.

I found out she was from Manchester England which is only 41 minutes from Liverpool. It really is a small world. She was first generation British. Her father and mother are from Ethiopia in the capital Addis Ababa, having moved right after they were married. She also had 2 sisters and a brother. Her oldest sister lives in North Carolina working for an investment bank after she graduated from University of Penn with a degree in business. She married a guy who owns a trash company there. The rest of the family still lives in England.

She wanted a change so decided to move to Canada after studying at the French Bakery School in Paris. After she graduated she worked at several restaurants in Montreal before finally coming to New York. After 2 years in France and 2 more in Canada she spoke fluent French. French became the unofficial language of the pastry department. She and the Saucier would have conversations in French. Its funny that most of Africa speaks French except in Eastern Africa. Ethiopia was one of the only countries that wasn't colonized. So with her Manchester accent along with picking up a french accent combined it made her cute and sometimes hard to understand. Manchester is known for its slang terms. Hanging means Disgusting, Gaggin means thirsty and on and on. You could hear the staff laughing because its usually something she said that no one understood. Besides English and French she also spoke Spanish which is a must in the industry nowadays.

And if you're wondering we did argue over who was better, Liverpool FC or Manchester United. Years later the argument is still ongoing.

She was a year younger than me. She funny with a quick whit and easy laugh. She didn't have that dry British sense of humor thankfully. She's not the most outgoing person. If she comfortable with you she opens up and her true self comes out. She can be very passionate about more than baking. I found she had a strange interest in old American western movies. She loved John Wayne and knew every word to most of his movies. And best of all she's a girly girl. She loves to wear dresses when not working. She has great legs by the way.

We found we had a lot in common especially the no social life aspect of the business. That first date led to several others over time. Because of our schedule we usually had breakfast or a late dinner after work. Going out after work usually included most of the staff letting off steam. We sat together during family meal at the restaurant. Family meal is served before the restaurant opens and cooked by one of the lower tier staff. We talk about specials and what to expect during service, like special request from diners, anything that effect service. If someone is having a birthday or anniversary so we can do something special for them.

Co-workers knew we were dating. It never caused any issues because we didn't have much interaction during our shift. She was in a totally different part of the kitchen and I was busy trying to keep up with service. Savory never messed with the sweet side. Two totally different cooking styles. Savory we used recipes but didn't use recipes. We flavored as we needed. The sweet side was very strict in their recipes. Each and every measurement had to be the same. If it said a cup you used a cup, no more no less. They say baking is a science and cooking is an art.

The restaurant got its Michelin Star the next year and service got crazier. There was a 2 month wait for reservations. The busier we got the more we were scrutinized. Every reviewer came several times to see if the quality keep up with the reputation. Even customers were becoming more demanding and sending food back just because they could, usually with senseless request. The pressure was beginning to get to the Executive Chef. He became more demanding. Sometimes reasonably and sometimes not. The stress was starting to wear on people. The work became work and had taken the passion out of the job.

By than Harriet and I had moved in together in a little one bedroom apartment paying $1800 a month. Outrageous. I would say it was a fairy tale relationship but I would be lying. We had our ups and downs. Working long hours and always being together without having a chance to enjoy life was making the relationship difficult. While I enjoyed the job I hated the city life. My hometown was more slow paced. Even Liverpool was nicer. You felt at home even if you weren't born there. Even the CIA was peaceful. Situated along the Hudson River you could go to Poughkeepsie and have fun or sit along the water. I was getting tired of the hustle and bustle of the city.

Harriet felt the same way and wanted to make a change. The only thing we both knew was the restaurant business. Any thought of opening one in the city was far fetched. Sure we probably could get financing from investors based on our reputation from Lemons and Capers. Harriet had made the biggest splash with her pastries. That would put us back where we were, working even longer hours as owners and still be in the city we hated.

Harriet's sister Geveda had married a guy who lived in Greenville North Carolina. Her sister had said how much she loved the city and its people. Its small but close enough to the big city not to feel like your living in the country.

I knew I loved Harriet and she loved me so I proposed. She wanted to have a serious talk before she answered. I knew some of her past but she let me know I didn't know it all. She seemed so serious I was starting to worry.

"Nishan, I love you but there's something you need to know before you think about your proposal. You knew I worked in Montreal for 2 years."

"Yes, we talked about it" I answered "you worked at Farmer and the Cow and then Dorcea right?'

"Yes but there's more to it than that. When I was at school in Paris I met a guy. We dated for most of the time we were there. We were in love. I moved to Canada to be with him.' As she spoke she was getting very emotional. 'I thought we would get married eventually. Six months after moving there I got pregnant. While I wasn't looking at being a mother I was still happy. I had the man I loved and now having his baby.' tears started to fall as she told her story. 'I thought he loved me, until I told him I was pregnant. He didn't share the same happiness as I did. He said he wasn't ready to be a father, he still had so much to do before that happened. He even accused me of trying to trap him."

I moved over to hold her as she told her story. I didn't say anything as not to interrupt her story so she could get everything out. That and my mind was racing finding all this out. As she talked I was more and more surprised.

"I had waited a month before telling him just to make sure there wasn't a mistake. After I told him his attitude started changing towards me. He wasn't affectionate, we weren't having those important conversations. We worked in different parts of the restaurant like you and I but it affected what was happening on the job. People were talking. Later I realized he was emotionally drifting away from me. Three months later he actually did move. I came home one night and all his stuff was gone. I was devastated. He even quit the job without any notice. Now I found myself in a country where I didn't know anyone except coworkers and pregnant.

The stress caused me to lose the baby 2 months later. I didn't go back to work for another 3 months. I left Farmer and the Cow because of the memories and went to work Dorcea. He was still in the city working at another restaurant and I would hear bits and pieces about him. I couldn't deal with it so I left and came here." By the time she finished her tale it seemed she had regained her inner strength. I held her for a while. Not saying anything because nothing needed to be said. She just needed to feel that I understood and loved her.

She was looking for my reaction. She gave me a lot to think about. In the end it didn't make a difference to me. I loved her. We all have our past. I held her hand, got down on one knee again and asked her to marry me. This time she said yes.

A month later we both gave our notice at the restaurant. They were upset to see us go, Harriet more than me. Her staff could take up the slack.

We married at City Hall before we left town. She said her sister had a big wedding in Greenville. Her husband Barry owned one of the largest trash companies in the southeast and Geveda was making 6 figures. They had flown everyone to Carolina for the wedding. I was an unemployed line cook. Flying anyone anywhere wasn't in the cards. So city hall was the best I could do. I promised her a nice honeymoon sometimes soon. She told me she was happy to have found the man of her dreams. I felt good about that. She didn't put money above other things. I knew she would have my back.

We weren't scared of not finding work. Something about working at a restaurant with a Michelin Star does wonders for your reputation. People were always trying to recruit you to start your own place.

We had been saving money to buy a house since we have been talking about getting married. So we decided for a visit to Greenville. She let her sister know we would be visiting in a couple of weeks. She hadn't seen her in almost 8 years since she got married.

We flew down on a Wednesday, landing at Charlotte International at 8pm and taking an Uber the 30 minutes to the hotel in Greenville. We were going to meet her sister and brother in law tomorrow so we walked next door to the Golden Corral and than relaxed in the room. Don't judge us over going to the Golden Corral. Just because we both worked in fancy restaurants doesn't mean we're food snobs. And it was our first time going there. Very interesting. Not the best food but the best for the value. Its funny the more people pay for food the smaller the portions. For $15.99 at Lemons and Capers would get you a roll and glass of water. I had a huge salad, 2 plates of ribs, shrimp, carved beef and veggies plus desert.