Sunday, October 21, 2018

Kick in the Crotch

If you are a man, you know the feeling.

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Imagine that happening three, four, five times in a week's period. That is what my nether region has felt like.  

Last Saturday our rented kitchen abruptly closed its doors.  The corporate email was received at 5pm'ish and was stamped effective immediately.  Needless to say, that was a round-house kick to the groin region. Here is the article...

All our possessions were locked inside the Pilotworks facility on Webbs Chapel and LBJ freeway.  I had to get them out.  I raced our family back from a soccer trip in Austin and headed to our former kitchen.  It was too late.  We were locked out.  Our access cards had been denied.  Panic set in, sheer utter panic.  WTF were we going to do? How were we going to continue our business with no place to operate out of, how was I going to bring in the funds to feed my family and provide a living for them?  So many thoughts, all unpleasant were spiraling out of control in my mind. 

Depressed and wishing only of sharp pointed objects, we got into our car and were just driving off when we saw security driving towards us.  I jumped out of the car and flagged the security guard down.  I was prepared to lay in front of the vehicle like the protesting bloke in Tiananman Square 20 years ago.

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Luckily, it didn't come to that as it was raining and miserable outside.  I did my best acting job and begged her to let us into Pilotworks.  I think the tear rolling down my cheek did the trick.  I looked pathetic and my tepid masculinity needed some testosterone boost.  But the ends justified the means and she opened the door to us.  I called my folks to bring their cars so we could load up.

A few hours later we had our last possessions and our last memory of what was a great culinary playground.  During this time I was dialing all my food friends in the industry and to the kitchens available around town.  I was amazed of all the people that were willing to help us out and 24 hours later we had moved into our new kitchen at the Cookline in Plano, owned and operated by Renee and Kevin!  What a blessing they were to us. We had found a home and were able to not miss a beat and began cooking for our clients on Monday without skipping a beat.

Unfortunately, kick to the crotch dos!  

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Our pop up restaurant Slainte that was to be unveiled Friday the 26th at the Pilotworks facility is now scratched.  My idea of traveling to new places to uncover the food of distant lands and bring back these ideas and memories to the people of Dallas and to our client and friends has gone up in smoke.

So disappointing on so many levels.  To be frank I wasn't thrilled with the lack of response to this one night launch of Slainte.  The interest I believed would be there never rose to the level I expected.  This is a meat and potatoes town. It isn't New York, Chicago, or San Francisco.  It shouldn't be a surprise to me as Dallas was voted the 31st food city in America.  Pretty bad for the 6th most populated metropolitan area in the United States.
It is Dallas, where mostly steakhouses and tex-mex thrive.  I wanted to bring something new and fresh but not many were gain for it.  We still would have had a great night, but as of now this endeavor is over.  Maybe a Lazarus moment for Slainte is to come, but for now, my energy and emotion has been sucked out of me along with my month's rent and deposit to Pilotworks.

And to add insult to injury I had a blowout on my car this past week and my wife had a flat tire at 4.30am as we are trying to deliver breakfast for two hundred in Garland.  This has been our week!

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I will recover from this as will our business.  Not sure I can have any more children, but that is another story.  I was going to leave my last part of my culinary trip for this coming Friday, but as it is now a no-go I will finish my trip to Ireland on this blog.  So stay tuned and Slainte!

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