If you're not sure what that is...

...maybe you should just ask.

I don't get it. If you have a food aversion or allergy, shouldn't YOU be the one to double check the description of the menu item you're thinking of ordering?

The biggest culprit comes from our house salads, which have "prosciutto" listed as one of the ingredients. If you don't eat meat, or pork, and you aren't sure what "prosciutto" is....just ASK me. 
I promise I won't make fun of you.
In fact, I'm more likely to talk shit about you in the kitchen after I bring out the salad and you give me the "ew" face, telling me you thought maybe "prosciutto" was a kind of cheese.

Let me be clear. I don't eat pork. So I understand having to remove items. And that's why I totally understand a guest who asks me if our meat sauce, meatballs, or sausage are made with pork products...because I do it, too.

Another one of my favorite "we didn't know" is our dish called Chicken Saltimbocca. In the description, it says there is a layer of "prosciutto" on top of the chicken along with provolone. I can't tell you how many I've had to send back when the table cuts into the chicken and sees a bacon-like strip under the cheese.

"Well we didn't really read the description in the menu..."

No shit.

This little piggy is Italian.

A lesson on Broccolini

Imagine the grandma who drinks a champagne split to her face while waiting for her teenage grandkids to meet her for lunch.

I'll tell you this much: She's never had broccolini before.

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present:

The Broccolini

I like to describe it to my guests as the lovechild of broccoli and asparagus.

This lady ordered it, despite her grandson suggesting she get asparagus instead. I do my checkback, only to find her pushing it around on the plate.
"Do you like the broccolini?"


"Well...I didn't realized it would be so....long-stemmed."


"Oh. That's pretty much the main difference between broccoli and broccolini."


"It kinda looks like a weed."


"....May I get you something else instead?"


"I'll take the asparagus."

You're right, lady. I'm sure you'll love the asparagus....the vegetable that is almost 100% stem!


Broccolini is a green vegetable similar to broccoli but with smaller florets and longer, thin stalks. Although often misidentified as young broccoli, it is a cross between broccoli and kai-lan, Chinese broccoli. A natural hybrid of the cabbage family Brassica oleracea italica x alboglabra, it was developed by the Sakata Seed Company of Yokohama, Japan with the name Chinese kale or gai lan. Broccolini's flavor is sweet, with notes of both broccoli and asparagus. -Thank you Wikipedia

I'M broccoli. Nice to meet you.

Let me repeat that for you...

I'm gonna be honest. I don't repeat back orders.
I probably should, but I just don't.
...that is, unless the order has all kinds of crazy modifications and substitutions. In that situation, I'll repeat it back twice even. I don't want them arguing with me later about what EXACTLY they ordered. Obviously I care about them getting what they want. Ya, that's it. I care. I'm sticking to that. 

The Picky Woman and her A-hole husband came in to dine with another couple. Submissive Woman and HER D-bag husband were just as lovely to serve.
Picky Woman orders: "A spinach salad, dressing on the side, no bacon. Is your salmon grilled?"

Yes, it's grillled and served on a bed of spinach.

"Ok then I'll have that."

Ok so you'd like a side spinach salad to start, with no bacon and dressing on the side? And then the grilled salmon?

"Yes."

D-bag husband orders: "I'll have the calamari, but I don't want it fried. I've had it here before, and they grilled it for me."

Ok, so you want the appetizer calamari as your meal? With the side of marinara?

"No I want the entrée. I want it for my meal!!!"

Well, we don't have a calamari entrée. So it will be the appetizer size.

"I want it as my meal."

Ok.

So I bring out the spinach salad out with A-hole husband's soup, and Picky Woman flips out.
"I'm supposed to have a full size salad! And with salmon!!"
Oh, I thought you said you wanted the salmon as your meal. I'm so sorry.

The entrées go out, and I already know D-bag is going to flip. The calamari doesn't look as big when it's not covered in batter... Sure enough, he yells at me.
"What is this??? There's nothing on here!"

Well sir, that's the appetizer.

"I wanted an entree!! This is nothing!"

Let me get the chef, sir. He can better help you.

Hottie Chef #2 comes out and the D-bag YELLS at him in front of the entire restaurant about the portion size. We end up making him THREE portions on the plate to satisfy him, and charging for two. He's still bitching, so my manager comps one of the two portions and tells me to make SURE he knows we did it for him, but won't again.

When I drop the check, I explain it to him that next time he comes in, he should order two portions so there won't be any issue. A-hole looks at me and says, it STILL wasn't very much.
My jaw drops.
"JUST KIDDING!"

Ugh. People suck. They left me 10% off the new total. Shocker.

Clusterf*ck Weekend

I went to bed with my feet throbbing from an 8 hour shift.
I woke up, and they still hurt.

This weekend was a clusterfuck. There's no other way to describe it.

SATURDAY
Saturday morning didn't start off well. I was feeling pretty chipper while setting up the restaurant (thank you ipod) until I was 5 minutes from break time and our GM asked me to take my co-worker, Minnesota, to urgent care. Apparently she popped her back while getting out of the car. No break for me.

Right when I got back, the restaurant opened and I had my first crazy hit with only 2 of us serving. Awesome. We're supposed to have 7 servers on this lunch shift, but with one person calling in, and Minnesota in the ER, we're down to 5. The first turn was smooth, and my friend Jared even came in with his mom to get his birthday lunch (Hi Jared!) but right as they were leaving, things started to get wild.

I had so many tables, and no partnered sections so we were all on our own. It was so bad I actually had to scroll down to look at all my tables on the computer screen. Me, a girl who normally cocktails (and worked my last Saturday clusterfuck shift with me), Homer, and the Old Lady from my serving class who SUCKS....wait, that's only 4 servers you say? Ya, because they cut one girl early at 1pm. WHY??

For the rest of the day, I never had less than 5 tables at once, usually more like 8, while also getting large parties. I nearly drowned. "In the weeds" can't even describe it. It was one of those days where I didn't even know how to help myself, my brain was scrambled and I just ran from table to table. Thankfully, I still got AWESOME tips because I kept smiling and hid my panic well. Even though I wanted to cry, I made almost $200 that lunch....the most I've ever walked with at Bloggiano's. So I guess it was worth the craziness!
Sales: $1250

SUNDAY
Worked a closing dinner shift, which I seriously hate. I really need to tell the manager I don't want to be a night closer. So not worth it. This shift was ALSO a madhouse because we had about 300 reservations, where we normally have about 150. Right when we came on at 4:30, the bussers were on break. Awesome. It was nuts. My partner ended up taking the bulk of our small tables, while I took our large parties. Both went really well until on my second party of 13 doing Family Style where the kitchen FORGOT my salmon entrée. SHIT. And that's not an easy item to make "on the fly." I did the right thing and got a manager involved. Didn't want to risk my tip on a bill that was over $400! The host was a little on edge, but the group was wow'd by the manager and chef hand-delivering the items and then bringing out a special VIP dessert platter. Phew. Still got my 18%. 
Sales: $1100

Net Sales from this Weekend: $2350 

Who wants to give me a foot massage??

Awkward Prom 2011

We just had our holiday party at Bloggiano's. Yes, a holiday party in February.

I have managed to work EVERY SINGLE holiday. And to put the icing on my zuccotto cake, I also got scheduled to work the night of the holiday party. Oh, AND the morning after. I win at life.

Here are the Top Ten reasons why our holiday party was so very awkward:

10) It's prom-themed. Didn't we all do that about 10 years ago??

9) It's AT Bloggiano's. With NO booze. By the time I got ready and back there for the party, I was about 10 shots too sober to be there. Everyone had gone out to drink prior.

8) Homer wore his James Brown wig. Every time I saw him come towards me to ask for a dance, I magically heard my name being called from across the room. 

7) The one guy who "didn't take it seriously" and showed up looking like a 'Where's Waldo' hipster edition.

6) The cheesy DJ, who wouldn't play any song we requested. And was about 5 feet tall. I mean, really. We're  having the party AT the restaurant, with no alcohol. We can't afford a good DJ??

5) Our manager dressing up as the High School football coach, running around blowing a whistle at people dancing too close together.

4) The "Prom King" being too wasted to know he won.

3) The fact that the majority of employees in attendance were the Mexican kitchen staff, whose eyes I felt undressing me every time I stepped on the dance floor. They literally stood silently on the perimeter, watching.

2) The girls who decided to be funny and wear 80's prom outfits.

1) After 1.5 hours being there (sober, remember) the party ended. And I went home. Only to be back at work in 9 hours. Why did I bother going??

I guess it made for good writing material, at least.

Thank you, http://awkwardpromcouples.blogspot.com

Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen!

I need to find the balance between getting my food out on time, and getting molested by the kitchen staff.

It appears I have won the hearts of many of our kitchen staff...

The other night I really got myself in trouble when they were ALL working the same shift.

-Oso, my teddy bear food runner
-Another food runner I've befriended who was working at a pasta cook
-Hottie tattooed Chef #1
-Hottie banquet Chef #2

Gulp.

Needless to say, they were not pleased to see me "flirt" and hug any of the other staff members. Hottie Chef #2 got so competitive that he actually asked me on a real date.... which I politely declined because I "don't date people I work with." Last night got a little tricky when my desserts were taking too long and Hottie Chef  #2 saw me waiting nervously.

"You're so busy making sure your food runner gets the food to your table, you forget if you talk to me...I can MAKE the food ready faster, baby!" 

I'm so busted.

I don't care if you're Italian.

I've always worked for Italian restaurants. And I'm always baffled by the "real" Italians who come in to eat.

You know you're at a chain restaurant where Mexicans are cooking your Italian food, right???

This time it was Franco and his family. He insisted on saying "gratzi" to everything I supplied him with, and therefore insisted I respond with "prego."

"You know, Prego, like the Paul Newman sauce...it means you're welcome in Italian."

Oh. Cool. I don't care.

He also inspected his wine glass with the most detail I've ever witnessed. Thankfully, I'd made sure it was spotless before bringing it to the table. Throughout the meal, Franco remarked at my wonderful service. When the manager came by to see how everything was, they raved about me. Thanks Franco!

I guess he was still feeling European when he tipped me $10 on $78. 

Bloggianos is definitely authentic Italian food. Nope.

Damn Yams

While most of America spent Thanksgiving in a tryptophan coma with family and friends, the employees at Bloggiano's were working. Every year, they provide a special Thanksgiving Family Style Menu for a whopping $35 per person for the people who don't want to cook.

I was scheduled to work the AM shift, and to be honest, I was okay with working because I need the money. On Wednesday morning, my general manager called to ask if I'd be able to work the PM shift instead. Ummmm yes please! As I've mentioned before, the new servers are only working lunch shifts right now, so it meant a lot that she trusted me to work the dinner shift (even though it was the same menu all day). It also meant potentially a lot more money, so I said sorry to the fam and accepted.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous on Thursday before I walked into my 2:30 call time. I knew how I did on this day could mean impressing the managers enough to move up to dinners, but I was also nervous that I wouldn't know any of the PM servers. Right when I walked into the room where we meet, everyone asked, "Are you Lindsay???" But I felt comfortable and was ready to kick some butt....that is, AFTER we ate our own mini turkey day dinner in the middle of the empty mall. At least I got to work off those calories after I ate!
Thanks Bloggiano's for at least providing your employees with some yummy food! 


My "section buddy" and I decided it would be best to pool our tips today in order to provide great service to everyone at our tables. It worked out pretty well, and in general, I had great guests who were happy to celebrate the holiday.

I don't know why it's always the last table that gives the most trouble, but I nearly lost it this time. A party of 6, they were totally indecisive about EVERYTHING. People, it's not that hard. It's basically a multiple choice test...but with food. You can't fail. After an hour of delaying their entrees, the turkey and sides all come out and look great. I go to do my check-back, and they complain about the sweet potatoes. Oh boy. You see, this year Bloggiano's decided to use pale yellow sweet potatoes to make their side, so the color was different than the typical orange sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top. Mind you, they still taste sweet...but THIS table started going nuts over the color. They kept asking me for regular sweet potatoes, not understanding we didn't have those....

"These aren't sweet potatoes. We wanted sweet potatoes."

Well Ma'am, these are yellow sweet potatoes but I assure you they are still 'sweet potatoes.'

"Yes, but we want the sweet potatoes. These aren't sweet potatoes."

Ok, well this is our only option for sweet potatoes. Would you prefer our garlic mashed potatoes instead?

"No we want sweet potatoes."

Yes, and I would love to mash them right in your face!!
Let me see what the chef can do for you...

UGH. Then, I snapped a little bit when it came to the cranberry sauce. Every time I went out there, they asked for more cranberry. And there was always some on the table. Food runners laughed as I'd come in for yet another container. The last time I brought out a bigger bowl, and as soon as I set it down, I was asked for more. I just had to say it....
"Welllllll....HERE is a brand new bowl. And if you need more after that, just let me know." 


I have tons to be thankful for. Aside from my wonderful family and friends, I am extremely thankful for my job in these hard times....even when I want to "accidentally" drop a bowl of cranberry sauce on a guest's lap. :)

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!! 

Oh, and here's some info on sweet potatoes and the color varieties...Educate yourself! 

Sunday Brunch

No, this isn't an entry about Bloggiano's starting a brunch menu. In fact, I already feel grossed out by the people coming in at 11 on the dot to eat fettuccine alfredo. You know, just a light lunch at 11am. Barf.

It's about the only good part about picking up a Sunday lunch shift: Sunday Brunch!

On Sundays, our chefs make a family meal for everyone in the kitchen and serving staff. Instead of having to pay $5 for a bagel at Corner Bakery next door, today we had chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and the most amazing homefries I've ever eaten! (I'm pretty sure they were fried in bacon grease.) I especially like being the 9:30am shift because we have to take a break from 10:30-11 and it times perfectly with when the food is ready! ;)

Today I was laughing so hard I cried because, as per usual, my busser Mario "my hero" took an obscene amount of food. We're talking 3 pancakes, a full plate of eggs and potatoes, and if that wasn't enough....a full loaf of our sourdough bread. I'm not exaggerating. 
One of the guys on my shift and I started imagining where all that food could possibly go, since Mario is a tiny little Mexican man....We envisioned him stocking up on the meal so later he could feed his 8 children, mama bird to baby bird-style. Even Mario was cracking up and translating the story to the other kitchen staff members.

I think Mario really only has 4 kids.

Friends in High Places

What's my #1 priority when starting at a new restaurant?

It's not making friends. It's not impressing the managers.

I introduce myself to everyone in the kitchen, and to the food runners and bussers. 

Look, I'm a girl. I see absolutely nothing wrong with flirting with being extra nice to the people who make my food, run my food, and clear my tables. They are a huge part of how I make my money. I depend on them, and they depend on me to tip them out for their help.

The first of the many bussers to fall for me was Sylvester. From the first shift, he gave me extra help, and he's also the one who refused my tip out when I made $5 that day. 

Mario quickly followed. Known by most of the staff as "64" (video games, anyone?) he's my guy when I need to make a latte or cappuccino. Sure, I've been trained to make them, but he loves when I come to him and say, "Mario you'd be my HERO if you helped me make a latte!" ::subtly bats eyelashes::

Now whenever he sees me it's, "I'm your hero today, ok?" 

And now there's my food runners. Sometimes it's Adrien, who fist-bumps me whenever he sees me because I told him he'd have to tip ME out for helping him run everyone's food the whole shift. But the star is really Juan, who's known as "Oso." (Spanish for bear) He's exactly what you're imagining: a giant Mexican man who can carry 10 plates on each arm, but is as sweet as a teddy bear. 

Oso and Sylvester have both become my buddies, and after talking to me for a little bit the inevitable question arose: "Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

UGH. I know it's their way of flirting, but boy do I hate that question. Bitter, party of 1.

For the record, this is all harmless and not sexual harassment. They're both happily married. 

***To my old co-workers from Mama D's: (Best Italian restaurant in Orange County, BTW. You should go.)

Tell Roberto I'm DEFINITELY not cheating on him. My heart still belongs to the head chef, and if he ever decides to leave his wife and kids, we're getting married. ;)

Moral of the story: I love being racially ambiguous. 

The guests think I'm Italian. The kitchen staff thinks I'm a Senorita. 

Win, win.