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The Recipe for Life

Sometimes the best dishes don't follow the recipe...

By Nicole WernerPublished 3 years ago Updated 3 years ago 10 min read
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The Recipe for Life
Photo by Jay Wennington on Unsplash

Gia sighed as she unlocked the front door of Inoltrare and walked into the office. She grew up in this restaurant, the stainless-steel appliances and steaming pots like a second home, watching the line cooks complete the mise en place before the dinner rush began. She was chopping vegetables and deglazing pans for sauces before she even learned her times tables. She had loved the busy pace and high energy atmosphere that filled the kitchen every night. But nothing compared to watching her father, the executive chef and owner, while he made his masterpieces come to life on the stove. Gia could only classify the way he cooked as organized chaos, a flurry of action that was almost manic, yet resulted in dishes that were unrivaled. Lorenzo was a visionary in the kitchen. He was able to take traditional recipes and give them a modern twist, giving the diner the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the new in one bite. He was one of the most celebrated chefs in the city and Inoltrare was one of the best restaurants around. Gia knew from a young age that she wanted to follow her father’s footsteps and one day take over the restaurant from him. Lorenzo offered for her to continue to learn at the restaurant and forgo formal training, but she insisted on attending culinary school. She wanted to earn her position at Inoltrare and even after her return from graduating at the top of her class at the Culinary Institute of America, she started on the line. She worked hard and made her way up the ranks until she earned the position of sous chef, working directly under her father. Her and Lorenzo worked side by side for two years; it was the happiest time of her life.

However, the past year had dealt Gia a double blow. First, her father had unexpectedly died after suffering a stroke, leaving Gia heartbroken and running the restaurant alone. The kitchen at the restaurant used to be her sanctuary, but after her father’s death, all Gia felt when she pushed through the double doors was anxiety and doubt bubbling up inside of her. Gia was still trying to control her grief while managing both the kitchen and business end of the restaurant when the pandemic hit. The high-end fare Inoltrare was known for was not conducive with a carry out structure, so Gia had no choice but to close the restaurant down. Shuttering Inoltrare for nine months was almost its death knell. The modest life insurance policy from her father was the only thing that kept her from having to close for good.

Now, the city was finally allowing restaurants to open up again for dining in service. Gia sat at the desk once occupied by her father and began making a list of all the things she would need for the reopen. Fortunately, she and her father had fostered excellent relationships with their vendors and she was assured she would be able to get the foods she needed. Prices had gone up, but that was to be expected under the circumstances. She already called her employees and all of her cooks and most of her front of house staff were ready and willing to come back. That had been a huge relief. She had paid them a percentage of their wages during the closure, but she understood times were tough and that some of them moved on and found other opportunities. While most of the restaurants were opening right away, Gia planned on waiting a week in order to make sure she could get all of her ingredients ordered and do a refresher training with her staff. Inoltrare was renowned for its high quality food and service and she planned on maintaining that reputation. She sighed again, the last review she received before the lockdown ran through her head. She could recall Charles King’s words verbatim:

The world lost a great chef when Inoltrare’s head chef and owner, Lorenzo De Santis tragically passed away earlier this year. His daughter, up and coming chef Gia De Santis, has now taken over the reins as the executive chef preparing the dishes he made famous. During my recent visit under the new chef de cuisine, each dish was technically flawless and executed with such precision, it was if done by a machine. But that perhaps is wherein lies the problem. When you ate a dish prepared by Lorenzo De Santis, the food greeted you like an old friend, but was as thrilling as a blind date. Ms. De Santis’s dishes feel like a culinary school project, eager for a grade. In short, Ms. De Santis is a beautiful mimic of her father; all the technique, but none of the heart. While it is clear she has the talent, it remains to be seen if she will ever have the soul.

Gia closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Those words had haunted her for nine long months. The lockdown began shortly after the review came out and she had had all the time in the world to stew on the critic’s assessment. She had spent hours in her own kitchen practicing Inoltrare’s signature recipes to the point she was sure she could make them in her sleep, but still, she was afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

She glanced around the office, she really needed to clean it out. If Lorenzo’s cooking style was organized chaos, his business style was a hurricane. Papers were stacked everywhere; books and debris cluttered the shelves on the wall. Gia had insisted on taking over ordering supplies and payroll, which she had promptly digitized and managed from her laptop. Since her father’s death, she had not touched his office, barely going in there if she could avoid it. Sitting at the desk, she began organizing loose papers. After clearing off the top, she began going through the drawers. She pulled some random papers out of the top drawer and uncovered a wrapped package and card with “Gia” written on top. Opening the card, her eyes filled with tears as she read in her father’s handwriting “Love always, Papa.” She tore the paper on the package and found a little black notebook. She smiled looking at it as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. She hadn’t seen that notebook in ages. She remembered as a child when her father was creating new dishes, he would be dancing around the kitchen, occasionally adding a note or two in his notebook. Whenever she would try to look at what he wrote, he would shut it quickly and tuck it into his pocket. “Ah ah ah! This contains all my secrets!” he’d say with a smile and wink. As she grew up, he would pull the notebook out time and again and add to it; but still, she had never read it. Her hand trembled slightly as she turned the tattered cover and opened it up. She spent the next hour alternating between laughing and crying as she read. It not only contained recipes and notes on different dishes, but also stories from his life. Funny anecdotes, little love letters to her mom, goals and dreams about the future. Each page was like a forgotten memory; like a whispered conversation with her father, reminiscent of when they would stay up all night discussing food and life. But the parts that touched her most were the letters written throughout the years to her. There were letters about his excitement for her when she cooked her first dinner for the family without any help; his pride in her for graduating from culinary school; his hope in their running the restaurant together. Towards the end of the notebook, the last entry was yet another letter to her, dated only a few days before his death. He wrote:

My dearest Gia,

I have watched you blossom from my little kitchen helper into an extraordinary chef. Working beside you every day has been my greatest joy in life. However, I am afraid that I have held you back. You spend so much of your time and talent mastering my dishes, but you are not me. You are so much more than I ever dreamt of being. I want you to make the food that you love. That is why I am retiring and putting the restaurant into your loving hands. It is time for you to cook your passion and make Inoltrare yours.

Love always, Papa

Gia sat silently clutching the notebook to her chest for a long time. She had been trying so hard to live up to her father’s name and legacy, that she had forgotten herself. But now, after almost losing the restaurant and still fighting to keep it, she decided it was time to move forward and make it hers. After all, Inoltrare was Italian for “forward.” It was time for her to live up to that name.

Shortly after reopening the doors, Gia and her crew were swamped with the dinner rush. With the reduced seating for social distancing, they were at maximum capacity for the evening with every reservation slot filled. Even so, Gia was still concerned if Inoltrare would survive the pandemic. Food costs had gone up and reduced capacity limited her revenue. However, her patrons, both regulars and those new to the restaurant alike, were raving about the updated menu. Gia of course kept a few of her father’s signature dishes, yet had put her own flare on them. There were also new additions to the menu completely of Gia’s creation. Her line cooks and sous chef had spent hours with her learning to prepare the new fare and Gia found that she once again relished the bustle of a busy kitchen.

There was a brief lull, so Gia decided to pop out and visit a couple of tables. As she was greeting a couple who had been coming in for years, she spotted Charles King eating at a corner table. The color drained from her face as she mumbled some pleasantries and excused herself from the table. She had no idea he was there and his food was already served. She was not sure if she could survive another review like his last one. Gia went back into the kitchen, where she could focus on what really mattered, the food.

Two weeks later, Gia sat at her desk, staring at the cover of Savor Magazine. She knew Inoltrare’s review was in there, but she was having a hard time bringing herself to read it. Finally, after what felt like hours, she took a deep breath and turned to the review. She read:

I have no idea what Gia De Santis did while Inoltrare was closed but if this were a production of the Wizard of Oz, I would say she was the Tin Man who found her heart. While her dishes remain beautifully executed with textbook precision, there is now an element of wonder, and dare I say soul, that can be felt in her food. Her twists on her father’s signature dishes both pay homage to his memory while embracing her own style. I have had some amazing meals in my life, but never have I enjoyed the taste of crow so much as I do now. Ms. De Santis is a force to be reckoned with and Inoltrare is a dining experience like none other. As the pandemic continues to rage on, we at Savor Magazine have teamed up with sponsors to award three local restaurants with $20,000 to help ensure their future. I am humbled and delighted to announce Inoltrare as one of the recipients.

Gia dropped the magazine in shock. It was like an answer to a silent prayer. Smiling to herself, she pulled out a brand new little black notebook and began to write.

literature
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About the Creator

Nicole Werner

Expert reader, novice writer. I have been chasing ideas around my head for years and finally decided to put pen to paper... or fingers to keyboard.

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