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Writer's pictureJamie Sanderson

What 'The Bear' shows is real, but what it doesn't show hurts more


The Hulu-series "The Bear" shows realistic kitchen life, but missing is the customer treatment that hurts more

As many in the culinary industry, I was excited to dive into Hulu's "The Bear" when it came out. It's a series that shows the brutality of culinary life inside a kitchen, owning a restaurant.

A young chef from the fine dining world comes home to Chicago to run his family sandwich shop after a heartbreaking death in his family. A world away from what he's used to, Carmy must balance the soul-crushing realities of small business ownership, his strong-willed and recalcitrant kitchen staff and his strained familial relationships, all while grappling with the impact of his brother's suicide. As Carmy fights to transform both the shop and himself, he works alongside a rough-around-the-edges kitchen crew that ultimately reveals itself as his chosen family.

And let's be honest, friends. This hurts to see if you've ever lived or witnessed the kitchen life in a restaurant. It's painful and it's real.


For the many years I've supported eateries, I've seen the looks in chefs' eyes that tell a story others overlook or don't give credibility to. I've seen pain in restaurant owners' eyes even when they smile from ear to ear.


And, as the years go by from first encounters, you watch those same people struggle with staff shortages, rising costs and shuttering of dreams.


I've seen the chatter. Some say we had too many restaurants out there and Covid reset the map. Others borrowed Ivan Drago's (Rocky) line and rephrased it. If it closes, it closes they'd say.


I guess when I saw the show and saw the lead character, which was portrayed well, I realized it wasn't just a character. It's reality for the culinary industry.


But, what was missing in the first season was the fact customers add to the already heavy weight on their shoulders.


Negativity towards restaurants has climbed in recent years. Factors leading this is the easy access to criticize on social platforms. Some do it to receive compensation to remove such negative reviews. Others use platforms like Yelp as a weapon for their motives.


Covid didn't help either. This story recognizes the toll it takes on customers that go to restaurants, but also focuses in on the fact restaurants know it and do the best they can with short staffing.


Here's a quote from that story.

“I’m 64 years old, and I’ve never seen anything like this,” the receptionist told CNBC on Wednesday outside a local Chick-fil-A. “Everything is very weird. Covid has definitely changed the world, and I’m not sure for the better.”

This person is right. It's gotten worse.


Negativity towards restaurants was already there pre-Covid times. Now, I think some people use the culinary industry's pain to their benefit. Or, don't realize the damage done to restaurants in the beginning of the pandemic and expect them to jump back to life like normal after restrictions have dropped.


Regardless, the human aspect of offering criticism has deteriorated to a point of unbelievable vitriol. Or, is it unbelievable?


I can assure you those in the culinary industry I've met, and it's quite a lot, don't wake up in the morning look to cook a customer the most God-awful dish they can think of just so that person can run to Google or Yelp to put them on blast, then say hey, that was fun, let me do it again, even worse.


No, these people literally took a dream and found a way to make it reality. If you've ever seen the beginning stages of opening a restaurant and their marketing campaign, it includes standing out front or in a kitchen with a huge smile. It includes a grand opening of some sort. It included a welcoming invite to the community to come be part of what should be the beginning of a long venture in their neighborhood.


They didn't include in those kind gestures the plan to be mocked, scolded or torn apart on social platforms. It's as if people think that's just what happens. I don't know if they give thought on what the consequences of words have on the culinary industry. The biggest?


Closure.


Look, you're not helping when you tear down a restaurant, its culinary staff with demeaning words towards a dish, cleanliness not meeting your standards, service that takes too long and not offering feedback that helps in return. Being an emotional critic produces no growth.


More, not saying anything at all when dining in, then leaving to bash away on a keyboard isn't cool.


Stick around. Have a word with the manager or owner. Tell them what you liked. Then, tell them what you didn't. Allow them to fix it on the spot. Give them the opportunity to correct a not-so-pleasurable experience before running to the internet.


Encouragement is really lacking in this day and age. Like pulling teeth, it must be painful to be positive. Seeing the bright light in the bad is not easy, I get it, but if you think before acting, it comes to you.


Caring.


That word means a lot. Chefs see four walls for hours. They see the same few dishes for weeks. Their life is full of complacency. It's a robotic grind at times. What shocks them out of it is being thankful for them, showing care and reaffirming with positivity.


I have had a few experiences where chefs were literally, and visually, shocked by my smile, loud voice of happiness and full bucket of positivity. They were expecting a swerve. Some not genuine. So, I received the cold shoulder a couple times. One came to the table after my third trip in and said he's followed my work since the time we met. He got it. He saw what I was about and said I was the real deal. I told him he was the real deal and I was just here to showcase it.


I often wondered after those experiences that when I went to a restaurant that wasn't aware of who I was and I asked to speak to the chef/owner what the thought process was in delivering that message. Like, here's another person not satisfied. Here I go to another table to get my ass chewed like their so-called tough-ass steak.


They're conditioned to beat themselves up. Mental lashings on the daily. They read what you write. It's sticks in their heads. You think it helps. They think they've failed and it will never get better.


Retraining a brain takes persistence. My repetition of positivity helps with that. They know when they see me, they know they're getting a encounter with a safe space. Someone they can trust to unload on. Tell their stories and it goes nowhere, unless they say so.


Being positive in a cruel world is tough, I get it. But, beacons of light start from pain. It's not automatic, but when it starts, it grows.


The culinary industry needs support. Not just money. It lacks positivity.


It lacks the spirit of the customer.


We're not robots. We go to restaurants to enjoy culinary entertainment. If not pleased with the experience, we ought to let them know before leaving. Do so in a way it leaves a great impression. Don't rob them of an opportunity to fix the issues or make your experience better.


The world is full of critics. Be an encourager.


There's plenty of room in the arena for that person. And the more that arena fills, the brighter the light from the beacon grows.



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