When we first opened the Pizzeria we did not take reservations, it was first-come, first served. People had to line up and wait for a table, often for a considerable period of time. Evenings were chaos, and as I was tied to the kitchen it was difficult to keep control of the situation. Charter skippers complained to me – they wanted to bring their guests to my restaurant but couldn’t have them standing for over an hour in a line-up, it just wasn’t on!
Knowing that we filled the dining room completely at least twice each night I decided to take reservations, giving guests the option of dining early or dining later. Those who chose the first sitting were always warned to be on time as their table would be re-booked. By 4:00 in the afternoon people without reservations were out of luck, the tables were always fully booked by then.
My mother loved nothing better than to help in the dining room, and many nights she filled the role of hostess. She would seat the guests, take their drink orders, and was able to maintain control as much as that was possible! We had to get the first sitting fed and out before the arrival of the second sitting and that wasn’t always easy. I often had to stop take-out orders until there was enough oven space, the dining room orders had to come first.
Valentine’s Day was always crazy, especially one particular Thursday. The heavens opened up just before the dinner hour and it rained so heavily and for so long that the extension flooded. The water ran down the hill and over the patio wall, and the drainage holes were unable to keep up with the torrent. People from yachts couldn’t get ashore, and those already ashore wouldn’t step out in such a downpour. I knew what was going to happen and my heart sank.
Sure enough, the rain stopped when the first sitting should have been LEAVING and that’s when they all ARRIVED. 20 minutes later the second sitting showed up. Staff and guests were wading through water, tracking mud through the dining room, and it was a mess. I was tired, pregnant and totally stressed, I simply couldn’t face the dining room that night.
My mother found me sitting on a sack of flour in the store-room, and said, “Judith Anne, are you HIDING!?” From where I sat I could see customers making little boats with their paper napkins and floating them on the water in the extension. I replied, “Yup.” My mother tried everything to get me up off that flour sack but I refused to budge. I said, “Mom, there’s nothing you or I can do at this point to make this night work, let’s get out of here and leave it to the staff”. Mom was astounded when she saw that I was serious. She must have realized that I was near the breaking point when she followed my lead with no further argument.
My mother and I sneaked out the back door of the restaurant that rainy night and scurried off to the Frangi jump-up. The Frangi was also having a dire evening, the rain had impacted them just as it had the Pizzeria, and I was happy to sit and watch someone ELSE’S chaos! It was irresponsible of me and I felt guilty for abandoning my staff but I had done what was best for ME.
As I sat with my mother enjoying a drink I watched a dirty wet dog approach a female diner and put its muddy paws all over her lovely dress. I said, “Mom, look at that! People shouldn’t let their dogs roam! That poor woman, look at her dress!”. The dog, hearing my voice, made a beeline for me and muddied my dress too. Sheba had escaped from the house once again, it was MY dog ruining the Frangi barbecue! What a night.