One day I'll start small
So the more I think about it, the more I realize (and in fact I've officially decided) that in my lifetime, in the relatively near future, I'm going to open my own damn restaurant. While to a certain extent I'll admit that this is probably too delusional and idealistic at this point of time, this desire and wish nonetheless stands in the firm grounding of my beliefs of what I'd like to do for myself before I get far too old and die.
There are only a couple of things that stand strong for me in the face of this world, which I believe becomes inevitably and inadvertently tragic because of the human mind and condition, before I pass. The first is what I'd like to give. I have a burning desire to work with disease and with people in pain, which I think translates nicely over into helping people rid themselves of viral, parasitic, cancerous, bacterial and all around physical problems (because come on, that's ridiculously fantastic). Although I'd like to, in the process, make enough to pay back all my loans and go on a big vacation every couple of years, this is my long-standing pursuit. I have a burning wish to figure out the interplay of our immune systems against the world, and if I made it into old age, I may truly understand and maybe even accept the answer (if the answer is really good for us) to the question: why do we lose so often?
My second is what I'd like to give to myself before I go (hopefully) quietly into the night. And maybe it's because I've had some Jim Beam and I'm a little loose, but this thought is so in-my-face right now, that I had to write about it. I want to fucking open my own restaurant.
It's not an entirely wild and random wish, you know. As a child, I was obsessed with food, and I even tried to start a business in the food service vein (and by try I mean I tried to enlist my two closest friends at the time). Its marketing gimmick was to sell homemade food products (pies) in a little wagon walking from home to home. Of course, I wasn't old enough to even be aware of the equations behind time and labor costs coupled with profits...but those were the fundraising days, so often, the home to home venue seemed like a temporary but mildly effective idea, and it was all entertainment enough for me to be worth it. My head wasn't entirely in the clouds though; even youthful me could see that I'd have a lot of customers turning us away (I've seen what happens to those Boy Scouts selling popcorn), but pity points still count for something, and I stuck to, "Start small, it will still be extra dough." Obviously my two friends declined, and so I returned to cutting recipes out of newspapers, painstakingly taping and gluing them into my carefully formatted binder of dreams. In college, I fell into (but secretly wanted very badly to) a short stint as a busser and waitress at a chique but failing restaurant, and it was the best and most entertaining job I've ever had. It didn't pay much and I was abused, but the people made the whole experience worth it. But do you get my point? Owning a business, and in particular a business in that world, would be a perfect amalgamation of my childhood dreams.
It'd be damn hard. I don't have any exceptional food preparation skills, but I know that I don't want to be cooking from my own kitchen to serve myself. God knows, I don't have the artistic skill to make a successful food blog, but I do know that I like tasty things and tasty things will make it onto my menu. Ah, owning a business.....that's something I can see myself doing and loving the overwhelming stress of it. I have so many ideas rolling around in my head, so I figure it's coming around time for me to get serious about writing them down and putting together viable plans. First things first though, I totally agree with my bartender. Let's go get some recipes for that (which I ate all of) and have every dish we serve look something like that after the customers have had it in front of them for 10 minutes. And of course, those awesome cups filled with their awesome liquid will also be available at my future restaurant.
Of course, the main concept still stands. "Start small, it will still be extra dough."
There are only a couple of things that stand strong for me in the face of this world, which I believe becomes inevitably and inadvertently tragic because of the human mind and condition, before I pass. The first is what I'd like to give. I have a burning desire to work with disease and with people in pain, which I think translates nicely over into helping people rid themselves of viral, parasitic, cancerous, bacterial and all around physical problems (because come on, that's ridiculously fantastic). Although I'd like to, in the process, make enough to pay back all my loans and go on a big vacation every couple of years, this is my long-standing pursuit. I have a burning wish to figure out the interplay of our immune systems against the world, and if I made it into old age, I may truly understand and maybe even accept the answer (if the answer is really good for us) to the question: why do we lose so often?
My second is what I'd like to give to myself before I go (hopefully) quietly into the night. And maybe it's because I've had some Jim Beam and I'm a little loose, but this thought is so in-my-face right now, that I had to write about it. I want to fucking open my own restaurant.
It's not an entirely wild and random wish, you know. As a child, I was obsessed with food, and I even tried to start a business in the food service vein (and by try I mean I tried to enlist my two closest friends at the time). Its marketing gimmick was to sell homemade food products (pies) in a little wagon walking from home to home. Of course, I wasn't old enough to even be aware of the equations behind time and labor costs coupled with profits...but those were the fundraising days, so often, the home to home venue seemed like a temporary but mildly effective idea, and it was all entertainment enough for me to be worth it. My head wasn't entirely in the clouds though; even youthful me could see that I'd have a lot of customers turning us away (I've seen what happens to those Boy Scouts selling popcorn), but pity points still count for something, and I stuck to, "Start small, it will still be extra dough." Obviously my two friends declined, and so I returned to cutting recipes out of newspapers, painstakingly taping and gluing them into my carefully formatted binder of dreams. In college, I fell into (but secretly wanted very badly to) a short stint as a busser and waitress at a chique but failing restaurant, and it was the best and most entertaining job I've ever had. It didn't pay much and I was abused, but the people made the whole experience worth it. But do you get my point? Owning a business, and in particular a business in that world, would be a perfect amalgamation of my childhood dreams.
It'd be damn hard. I don't have any exceptional food preparation skills, but I know that I don't want to be cooking from my own kitchen to serve myself. God knows, I don't have the artistic skill to make a successful food blog, but I do know that I like tasty things and tasty things will make it onto my menu. Ah, owning a business.....that's something I can see myself doing and loving the overwhelming stress of it. I have so many ideas rolling around in my head, so I figure it's coming around time for me to get serious about writing them down and putting together viable plans. First things first though, I totally agree with my bartender. Let's go get some recipes for that (which I ate all of) and have every dish we serve look something like that after the customers have had it in front of them for 10 minutes. And of course, those awesome cups filled with their awesome liquid will also be available at my future restaurant.
Of course, the main concept still stands. "Start small, it will still be extra dough."
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