All I want for Christmas

This year has been a totally “Bah, humbug” year for me. I have been feeling a little Grinchy … grumbly-mumbly about not having the time to buy presents and all the other hullabaloo.

My house looks dismal and empty. My wooden nutcracker soldier sits sadly in the white plastic box that houses him for storage. My refrigerator at home looks even more depressing: remains of sauces, forlorn and forsaken pieces of cheese … dried-up parsley … that’s about it. Not the usual abundance of produce, overflowing with endless culinary possibilities.  

I have not been to any festivities, even making a diplomatic faux pas, completely forgetting a very formal engagement. Please, friends, don’t take it seriously. I have no life outside my little business.  Every so often when I do make it out, I definitely go all-out! Let loose and wreak havoc all over town wearing a Santa hat, leaving red lipstick marks on all my friends.

This is the real life of a restaurateur. Not the glamorous photos of smiling, happy chefs and owners the magazines want to portray. It’s hard, gritty work that, well, for me, at least, consists of playing Oprah and Dr. Phil with the staff, psychoanalyzing their capabilities, being Gordon Ramsay-tough when things get slow, jumping into the kitchen in Louboutin heels and Lady Danger lipstick just to get the desserts out faster, bussing plates when the waiters are busy with other orders and, hell, cleaning the toilet when there’s no else that can.

All I want for Christmas is a pair of jeans that doesn’t perennially smell like garlic and onions no matter how many times I wash it … For the blisters on my feet to disappear … For all the peklat I have on my body from cuts and burns to smoothen out … To not look like a mummy with all the rock tape on my back to stop the muscles from cramping … To have an organized accounting system that doesn’t consist of torn pieces of pad signed by who knows from the palengke next door parading as an OR … To have basil and cilantro that doesn’t wilt almost immediately after purchase… To not have to find an entire fillet of salmon cooking unintentionally sous vide over the dishwasher … To wear my hair down again — nice and bouncy instead of tied up in a ratty bun … To have a magical, unlimited supply of cakes to send out as complimentary desserts for when things go wrong… To have my staff dance like Fred Astaire at the next company party instead of a disastrous interpretation of Macho Men dance moves meets the Three Stooges.

But if you look at me straight in the face and ask, “Is that what you really want?” I’d smile wearily and say that all I want for Christmas is for all of that to repeat itself … like Groundhog Day ever so slightly improving in the right direction.  And although I may not have the warm, fuzzy Christmas feeling you get from carolers and gifts, I get that fuzzy feeling every day, every time a client ever so slightly smiles after a bite. It’s a tough job. You have to check your ego at the door, walk in with utter humility, and be prepared for the lessons in life that come from the most peculiar places.

I have always somewhat straddled the two worlds of food, being a food journalist and dabbling in the food business as well. But never have I really gone full-blown chef/restaurateur like today. When people ask if I’m a food critic, I flat-out say no. I believe in constructive criticism given privately directly to the persons concerned so that they can improve. I’m all about only writing what’s worth writing about; there’s always an interesting story somewhere that goes beyond the food. But in my brief time running an actual, real establishment, I have just so much more respect for everyone else out there and am extremely astonished by how tight the chefs’ community is.

Every time I sell a lamb gyoza, I think about how Him Uy de Baron of Nomama Ramen gladly offered to train my two cooks in gyoza-making for free in his restaurant because our first attempts resembled ugly empanadas. Each time I look at the CCTV I think of J. Gamboa, who kindly offered up his suppliers for POS systems electronics and the like. Three out of five of my cooks come from Rob and Sunshine Pengson’s Global Academy. My Facebook inbox has messages from Elbert Cuenca and Cyrille Soenen replying to my desperate plea for foie gras during this crazy season when supply is scarce. Tina Pamintuan of L’Incontro passed me clients for a large dinner party instead of having it at her place because she wants to help spread the word. Even foodie friends come in to eat and give suggestions to help us improve the menu.

My phone has an infinite amount of contacts for suppliers that were all recommended by good friends — all in the business. The staff is excited to produce a special Christmas menu on the 25th when I would have been fine closing. These are the people that work when you’re celebrating. It makes us happy to celebrate with you.

The food world is becoming a nicer place. That’s my warm, fuzzy Christmas feeling. To see things like unique food-truck concept Cucina Andare pop up, bloggers like Erwan Heussaff and Lori Balthazar openheartedly sharing recipes and tips … restos moving out of the mall like Las Flores and Wildflour … more access for the farmers, more chefs sourcing locally. Mobilizing to help flood and typhoon victims like what Margarita Fores and Jackie and Rolando Laudico did recently, always happy to take time off their busy schedule to participate in all charitable endeavors … We want to eat at each other’s restaurants. See the industry blossom. Share ideas, tips and techniques. There’s no real competition, only growth.

This Christmas for me is about being thankful. I’m grateful for my staff that drive me bananas but also keep me sane because even if I think I can, I can’t do it all. I am thankful for my family, who keep eating here even if they have been eating the same food for how many weeks. For my fiancé, who helps me make lemonade out of lemons. For my friends, who leave ridiculous amounts of tips. For my colleagues who inspire me and who are so generous with their knowledge. And above all, to God who gives me the strength to get through it all every day. That being said, in fact, I have everything I want for Christmas. Although an enchanted magical refrigerator that has exactly the right ingredients that I want when I want it … that would be nice, too!