by T. F. Pruden
The uniform finish on the walls, absent either runs upon them or drips on the carpets, showed the care and attention paid to the job. It also demonstrated a level of experience that surprised him.
He knew Richie would be relieved and as happy as he was with the quality of the work completed so far. This was what he had been most concerned about when Wayne demanded he take on the renovation work himself. Now seeing the result he was pleased to have gone along with the headstrong young partners’ decision.
He would be proud to show Richie the work when they met this evening. Now he could reveal the plans Wayne had made for the limited renovations to the restaurant. Rene knew Richie would appreciate the professional quality of the work.
He should also be thrilled by his decision to lease the place to Rene and his young partners.
“Tabernac!” he said as he looked into the lounge.
He was careful not to touch either the walls or the frame of the arched entranceway in case the fresh paint might not be dry.
“Dats’ an ‘ard working man our partner, eh Maurice?”
“For sure!” Maurice replied in a low voice with a note of awe evident, “you’re lucky to ‘ave ‘im Rene an’ dats’ for sure!”
Maurice lacked Rene’s experience with construction and thus the ability to appreciate the finer points of the job he reviewed.
The volume of work Wayne completed in so short a period stunned the tall chef. That such a dramatic improvement to the surroundings could happen in such a limited time astounded him. The effect created by the fresh coat of paint shocked the tall chef. It transformed the dreary restaurant from a collection of dark caverns into a stylish and comfortable space. The closed restaurant now presented a bright and efficient design.
Again confronted by the superiority of yet another mans’ talents he could only shake his head.
The mountain of respect developing for his younger partner leapt still further. Maurice wondered again how he could ever convince himself he would be an effective partner to such a man.
Before the tall chef had time to delve further into his misery Wayne appeared in the new painted archway of the dining room entrance.
He smiled at his partners, pleased to see their reaction to his effort.
“So does it work for you two?” he asked with a grin spreading across his lips and a satisfied twinkle visible in his eye.
“It’s beautiful!” Maurice replied without hesitation.
“Ver’ nice work young man!” Rene said as he extended his hand for his young partner to shake, “Tabernac you don’ mess aroun’ when you get to working an’ dats’ for sure!”
“Thank you both.” Wayne answered, gripping Rene’s hand and shaking it, “I’m glad you like it.”
Maurice stepped over and placed the shopping bags onto the floor at his side before extending his hand. He grinned and nodded at his young partner as Wayne shook it.
“Doesn’t it lighten the joint up?” Wayne said.
The enthusiasm took over, and he continued, his voice rushing out and thrilled with his work.
“I think it highlights the interest in the design of the place too, the arches look like they belong here now they’ve lost that cave-like appearance. Wattya think gents?”
“Absolutely!” Rene replied, “I’m surprised at ‘da big difference in fac’ and ver’ pleased too ma’ frien’, excellent choice wit’ dat’ color an’ professional quality work, Tabernac!”
“Dats’ da’ truth for sure,” Maurice agreed, “ver’ impressive Wayne!”
“I’ve only started cutting in the dining room,” Wayne said.
He turned to lead them into the room behind him.
“But I’m pretty sure I’ll be finished painting by Thursday night and have the touch ups done Friday.”
Rene and Maurice followed him into the dining room. Both men smiled and nodded to one another as they noticed the short scaffold and the long plastic drop sheet Wayne used. It kept the paint exclusive to the walls. The tables and chairs he piled together beneath a drop sheet beside the line of booths on the north side of the room.
“I can’t wait to show Richie dis’ place!” Rene said.
“Es’ going to be impress’ for sure!” Maurice agreed.
“What time is he dropping in?” Wayne asked.
“E’ claimed e’ would be ‘ere before da’ firs’ stripper ‘its da’ stage,” Rene replied, “so about eight I’m t’inking.”
“Dat’ gives me an hour to get dese appetizers ready,” Maurice said.
He walked past his partners and toward the kitchen entrance with the pair of grocery bags in his hand.
“An’ I bet dat’ you’re ‘ungry Wayne, would you like me to prepare you a steak?”
“That’d be fabulous Maurice,” Wayne replied, “and thank you.”
“Make mine rare mon frere!” Rene called after him.
“Coming right up mes amis!” the tall chef said as he disappeared into the kitchen.
“Richie will be impress’ by dis’ work Wayne I tell you dat’,” Rene said, “an’ I don’ min’ saying ‘da place looks better ‘dan I ‘oped it would wit’ ‘da new color. You make an excellen’ choice dere’ ma’ frien’ an’ ‘dats for sure!”
“Thanks again Rene and here’s hoping the landlord appreciates it,” Wayne replied, “to me the light grey brightens the place up and really allows the burgundy of the carpet and the booths to pop. It also highlights the interest in the design of the space, which is actually pretty nice now you can see it without the distraction of that horrible gold paint.”
“I agree wit’ you ‘dere for sure,” Rene said, “it’s better looking ‘dan I figger’ it would be an’ you’re making quick work of eet’ too, non?”
“It’s going well, yes.” Wayne answered, “I’m pretty sure I’ll finish this week and start on the booths and the pony wall this weekend.”
“Now ‘dat I’ve seen ‘dis much improvemen’ wit’ ‘da pain’ I can’ wait to see what you pull off wit’ ‘da res’ of your plan mon ami.” Rene replied with a grin, “I ‘ad no idea ‘da’ you were a designer an’ I’m lucky to ‘ave you for sure!”
“Thanks again Rene,” Wayne said with a smile of appreciation, “come sit and I’ll show you the sketches for the rest of the work and some ideas for our logo.”
The men walked together to the booth closest to the kitchen entrance along the south wall of the dining room. A neat pile composed of Wayne’s note pad and a sketch book waited.
The men took seats on opposite sides of the table and reviewed the rough drawings.
In the kitchen meanwhile the tall chef moved with swift assurance through the initial steps of preparing dinner for his partners. An appetizer tasting with their landlord would follow the meal. Maurice was awash in new intimidation after another demonstration of yet more skill courtesy of his younger partner. Thoughts of impending failure had now taken control of his tortured mind.
The distraction prevented his notice of the skilled efficiency with which he tended to his work.
Within minutes a pot of fresh peeled potatoes was on the stove. A moment later he had trimmed and readied the asparagus tips for steaming. He cleaned and washed the White Button mushrooms to be fried with garlic butter and served with the New York Strips selected for his partners’ dinner almost before he knew it. These tasks he managed while slathering thick pieces of expert sliced French bread with the fresh garlic butter he whipped together.
The efficiency with which he worked would have astounded an audience.
If only he could stand outside himself and see the preternatural awareness and uncanny timing of his activity. His years of hard won experience lent unquestioned authority to every move he made in the small kitchen.
Without slowing he stripped the stems from eight of the fresh Portobello mushrooms. He filled each cap with a heavy dollop of the garlic butter and a crumbled mound of feta cheese topped with an exact sprinkling of bread crumbs. This while turning the steaks to imprint
the distinctive crossed grill marks that would cover them. He drained the potatoes to prepare them for mashing.
Maurice next placed the garlic bread, buttered with generosity, onto the flat top next to the stove to toast. He removed the stainless steel steamer containing the asparagus tips from the direct heat of the burner. Then he returned to the waiting potatoes. Two scoops of the garlic butter and a large splash of cream he added before mashing until soft peaks formed.
This before the toast was ready to be removed.
Maurice then flipped both steaks. He coated the untoasted side of the garlic toast sizzling on the flat top with more butter before turning them. The mushroom caps he then arranged in the four place ramekins, and slid them beneath the flames of the salamander. He removed one steak from the grill, cooked rare, and placed it in a plate waiting on the island to rest.
Now pressed for time he would present the mushroom caps with his partners’ dinner.
As he visually checked the progress of the melting cheese in the ramekins he pressed his index finger onto the remaining steak. The touch confirmed it ready to become a perfect medium rare.
He removed it from the grill and placed it to rest on the island in a second plate.
He must serve his partners.
Only then could he prepare the various items to be presented to the soon arriving landlord. Maurice would forgo eating dinner. He felt the sharp edge of his nerves again as he thought of the appetizer tasting to come.
He would present the Portobello mushroom caps he was serving to his partners to the landlord. Also the escargot, a breaded mozzarella cheese stick, and the potato skins so appreciated by Rene. He would also include the chicken wings suitable for the hotel bar at the tasting.
Though there would be no pizza served, he could only hope the landlord and his partners would be impressed by his choices. Maurice admonished himself for wasting time. He returned to sorting the ingredients he would use for the appetizers while the steaks rested and the mushroom caps finished.
Maurice removed the hot ramekins from the salamander with care.
He set himself to preparing his partners’ dinner plates.
For this meal he would spend more time on presentation. He grinned with satisfaction as the scent of the food rose from the plates. He arranged them on a tray. Maurice picked it up with one hand and turned, moving swift but with great care, to the swinging entrance doors to serve his partners.
“Dinner is serve’ mon freres!” he announced as he stepped through the doorway and into the dining room, “an’ I’m ver’ sorry for the long wait!”
“What wait?” Rene asked, surprised to see the tall chef and the tray of steaming plates, “You mean you’re done already?”
“That looks delicious Maurice!” Wayne said.
The speed of the service impressed him. He removed the assortment of papers covering the table by gathering them in a bunch and dumping it onto the bench at his side.
“Enjoy mes ami!” Maurice answered with a hint of pride in his voice, “I mus’ return to da’ preparation of da’ appetizers for our tasting dis’ evening but I look forward to your review of da’ mushroom caps, which wit’ my apology I’ve ‘ad to serve wit’ your dinner due to ‘da shortage of time.”
The tall chef bowed and departed for the kitchen, leaving the two partners to look with astonishment at the plates in front of them.
The meals presented on clean plates he arranged with professional care. Steam rose from the individual items. The dishes looked as good as those served the previous Saturday at the well-known chain restaurant.
The men looked at each other with a smile and a nod of appreciation for the quality of the tall chef’s work before attacking their plates. An occasional grunt of satisfaction was the only sound to be heard for the next several minutes.
They devoured the assortment of savory delights with gluttonous efficiency.
“That man can really cook!” Wayne said.
He sat back from the now emptied plate in front of him.
“Those caps were delicious and that steak was perfect.”
“Tabernac I’m gonna get fat!” Rene said with a smile.
He grabbed his belly with one hand and pushed his plate to the middle of the table with the other.
“An’ ‘ow does a man ‘oo cooks like dat’ stay so dam’ t’in?”
The sound of a persistent knock on the lobby door of the restaurant interrupted them before Wayne could respond.
With a knowing grin and a nod to his partner Rene slid out of the booth and departed the dining room to answer it. He walked hurriedly through the short hallway and unlocked and opened the foyers’ glass door leading to the hotel lobby.
His friend Richie Pallento stood waiting to enter.
A man of only average height, Richie was a lean fellow with his head covered by a thick mane of expensively manicured and shoulder length hair dyed jet black. A set of capped and gleaming white teeth and pair of sparkling blue eyes greeted Rene with the effervescent smile of true friendship.
Richie held himself with the relaxed confidence bred by many years of success. His smile flashed as he extended his right hand to Rene. He wore no less than four heavy gold rings encrusted with a sparkling array of diamonds and topped by a heavy gold bracelet.
Rene shook the hand vigorously and without hesitation.
“Allo’ mon ami!” Rene’s voice dripped satisfaction, “Come on in an’ see what work we ‘ave done so far!”
“Hello mon ami yourself you old road dog!” Richie replied with enthusiasm, “How the fuck are you mon frere, eh?”
“It’s perfec’ ‘appiness wit’ me mon frere!” Rene answered his old friend.
A warm smile played upon his lips. He was pleased to see Richie and plainly enjoyed his company.
“An’ ‘eres ‘oping it’s all good by you!”
“That’s my guy!” Richie replied with obvious happiness as he entered the bright foyer of the restaurant, “goddamnit I love you, you old road dog!”
Rene closed and locked the door behind his friend. The two men turned to wrap their arms around one another in a warm and extended bear hug. It pleased them to be together and the bond between them was obvious.
“Jeezas’ what did you do to this old place to make it look so damn good, eh?” Richie asked as he stepped away.
He looked over the foyer and the hallway in front of him.
“I’d have asked you for more money if I’d known you were going to have it lookin’ like this!”
“Tabernac dats’ why I din’ start ‘til after you were done gouging me mon frere!” Rene replied with a smile, “da’ place looks good don’ it?”
“I’m amazed Rene,” Richie answered his friend with a nod of acquiescence.
The appreciation was plain in his reply.
“It’s quite an improvement and very nice work too, not a run or a drip to be found and the carpets are spotless!”
“Dats’ what I was ‘oping ‘dat you’d notice!” Rene said with pride, “my partner ‘as done ‘dis work ‘imself an’ I can’ wait to show you ‘da res’ of ‘is plans for ‘da place!”
“I thought for sure I was looking at pro work Rene,” Richie said.
He was in fact surprised and impressed to discover the skilled painting had been a DIY effort.
“Who is the partner that handled this, eh? Not your chef?”
“It’s ma’ operations manager Wayne Stevens,” Rene replied, “dat’s ‘andling ‘da renos an’ ‘da planning for ‘da new place.”
“Is that the kid that had the night spot?” Richie asked.
“For sure,” Rene answered, “an’ I’m lucky to ‘ave ‘im, Tabernac ‘es got skills!”
“I’ve heard of that kid,” Richie said, “he’s got a rep as a hard worker. Too bad about his joint failing but he had piss poor partners there I understand.”
“Wait ‘til you get to know ‘im,” Rene spoke with pride in his voice, “‘Es ‘ere waiting to meet y
ou in ‘da dining room. Come on, let’s go meet ‘dem both, ‘dey are a pair of young hot shots I’m telling you, an’ you’re going to eat some of ‘da bes’ appetizer’ ‘dat you ‘ave ever ‘ad tonight, Tabernac!”
Richie laughed at the joy betrayed by his friends’ voice.
The sound of Rene’s happiness pleased him. If only the two young partners could live up to their advance billing. The restaurant had been a consistent problem to him through the decade he owned the otherwise successful Marlene Hotel. He was hoping against hope his friend Rene would be the tonic for whatever it was infecting the place.
A string of failures littered the history of the establishment.
The restaurants bracketing the Marlene meanwhile earned a brisk business. A breakfast joint across the street packed six mornings out of seven. The burger place next to him filled with drive thru traffic at all hours of the day and night.
Richie had secured a one third interest as silent partner in both places years earlier.
For the life of him he couldn’t imagine why the hotel restaurant could not follow the neighbors lead.
The hotel earned fat profits from a rotating lineup of strippers either male or female throughout the week. A two-hour show at noon weekdays brought a lunch crowd featuring a profitable mix of white collar and construction workers. That crowd thinned only slightly before the three-hour dinner show started at five p.m. daily. Another three-hour feature performance with drink specials started at nine p.m. weeknights. The beverage room remained jammed until midnight through the week and closing time on weekends.
The hotel satisfied Richie, but he resented paying the utility bills on an empty restaurant.
He had searched for someone who might bring a change of luck to the premises.
After ten years of repeated failures by all previous owners, it was impossible to entice anyone with experience to buy into the place. With no obvious suitors interested in taking over he turned to his old friend out of desperation. He had long known Rene held an interest in trying his hand at the hospitality game.