How to Get Fired
In 1966 I got a job as a busboy at Blum's in downtown San Francisco. The restaurant was below the west coast flagship Macy's Department Store. Macy's was a big deal - and so was Blum's. It was in the heart of the Union Square shopping - with City of Paris, I Magnin, Gumps, The White House, and scores more shops for the well-heeled San Francisco shopper. Back in the day, one always dressed to go downtown.
Blum's catered to the blue-haired ladies with their granddaughters in white gloves and mary-janes eating monstrous banana splits as well as the well-dressed casual shopper getting a slice of their famous Coffee Crunch cake.
Ernest Weil was the original baker who created the famous Crunch Cake while working at Blum's back in the mid 1940's. He left Blum's in 1948 to open his own bakery, Fantasia Confections, in Laurel Village in SF. He continued to make the Coffee Crunch Cake long after Blum's closed their doors. It was one of Fantasia's best sellers. People would travel many miles to get that cake!
I got the recipe from a woman named Helen Kane who I was doing volunteer work with for Project Open Hand in 1995 and then bought his cookbook Love to Bake Recipes from Fantasia Confections in 2006 where he had the step-by-step-by-step instructions. I've made it a few times - it really is good!
At this point I had gotten a work permit, although, technically, I was supposed to be 16 to work at Blum's. It wasn't the first time I have hedged the truth.
I was good at the job, the waitresses liked me and I actually made some pretty good tips - plus I got to eat a limited menu free lunch and all the other stuff I could sneak.
Our manager was a woman named Mrs Brown. She was a nasty woman who preferred to communicate at the top of her voice weaving contempt, disdain, and sarcasm into her words. Actually, some of my more favorite traits in myself, but not on the receiving end as a kid.
One early Saturday morning I was on the opening crew and was getting ice for the bus stations. There was a standing rule that we always took ice from the bottom of the bin - never from the top. It's obvious sanitation sense because ice machines need proper rotation - the oldest gets used first and doesn't sit on the bottom getting nasty.
That Saturday morning the bin was completely full and as I tried to open the bottom, ice was spilling out into the kitchen. I started taking it from the top until I could relieve some of the weight to get back to the bottom.
In walks Mrs Brown and before I had a chance to explain, she started in on me - berating me, calling my stupid, can't follow simple orders, worthless... she went on and on while staff just stood there in shock. I casually reached over and opened the bottom door and ice went shooting across the kitchen, burying her up to her ankles. I just looked at her and said "that's why I was taking it out of the top." The staff broke into hysterics and she sped off in a huff.
I finished my shift and was called into her office. I was fired for insubordination.
And it was worth it.
Baker-in-Training
Back in 1961 - the year my Baby Sister was born and the last one of the six of us - my father got me a job. It was to get me out of the house and get me to interact with people.
At nine years of age, I was a shy, introverted kid who read books, was a Straight A Teacher's Pet student, and secretly longed to be a cool kid like my older brother. Years later, I found out he really wasn't as cool as I had thought, but.. this was 1961.
There was a donut shop/coffee shop a few blocks from the ancestral home that my dad would frequent - The Donut Center - owned by a guy named Niels Hoeck. The baker was an old German guy named Hans, and the donut maker was a guy named Steve. Bea and Ann were the waitresses/short order cooks/cashiers.
Looking back, I realize that Hans was probably in his late 30s or early 40s, but he was kinda gruff and just seemed really old to me - older than my 37 year old father. Niels hired me to work Saturday mornings from 7am-9am washing pots and sheet pans for Hans and to scrap gunk off the parchment paper pan liners so they could be reused. And reused. And reused... If I happened to tear one of the more brittle ones, Niels would be mad while Hans would be secretly pleased.
When I wasn't busy washing pans, I'd watch what Hans was doing. I was pretty fascinated by how he could make these things look so good and taste so good. He seemingly effortlessly made Bear Claws and Figure 8s, every kind of fruit and cheese danish, and coffee rings and coffee cakes that were serious works of art.. Plus decorated cakes and pies... All the stuff you'd expect from a neighborhood bakery.
Being the inquisitive and eager-to-please little tyke that I was, Hans soon started teaching me some of the basics - like properly rolling out danish dough. He would usually have three or four batches going at once - one to actively roll-fold-turn-roll while the others were resting in the 'fridge. Hans was exacting. There was only one way to do it - the correct way. It was about feeling the dough and having it speak to you.
I had been doing my 2-hour Saturdays for about a year when I started doing a few more tasks. Filling jelly and custard donuts and bars - ONE push of the pump, not any more, not any less, frosting donuts, or grinding old stale donuts to be used as filling for bear claws and other delights. We saved particular donuts and let them dry completely, and then ground them and mixed them with sugar and spices to create the filling. Totally delicious.
Another fun thing was I used to get a free breakfast! After a while, I even got to cook it myself on the griddle. I got the hang of it pretty quick. And, I started drinking coffee. My first cups were 90% cream and sugar, but Bea and Ann told me if i was going to work in a restaurant, I needed to drink my coffee black. They told me that business and breaks were unpredictable and I'd be leaving partially consumed coffee cups behind at a moments notice. Wasting things wasn't an option, and there was no way you could ever get the proper ratios back adding more coffee. Adding hot black coffee to a half cup of lukewarm black coffee created a cup at the perfect drinking temperature. I still drink black coffee to this day.
I worked there until 1966. I learned to take orders, work a counter, be a fry cook, and a cashier. Firth thing I learned in handling money was that all bills were stacked and lined up with the nose pointing right. Every bill. Every time. It forced me to actually look at the bill and know what it was before counting back change. The second thing was that money from a customer never went into the till until change was given - to keep the customer from saying they gave me a 20 when they really only gave me a 10. And, today, my money is still always organized with heads facing up and noses facing right. And I balance my checkbook to the penny every month.
They were all tough on me - but not mean. They explained why they wanted things done a certain way and immediately corrected me when I forgot or got lazy.
It all paid off.....