For Love of "Forks"
A personal meditation on THE BEAR.
“What an interesting life it is to be a leader.”
- Coach Mike Krzyzewski
There’s a lot that’s been said about The Bear, especially in the wake of the newly released third season. Many people have criticized its frenetic pacing, over dramatization of restaurant life, and lack of believability.
Wine lovers keep asking when wine - a key ingredient in a successful fine dining restaurant with Michelin aspirations - will prominently factor into the show.
I personally know many, many chefs who refuse to watch the show, either because it paints an inaccurate portrait of restaurant life or because it brings back traumatizing memories of chefs from a bygone era.
Maybe after a few years on the floor I still see the restaurant world through rose-colored glasses. Maybe it’s my training in theatre and opera that sweeps me away in the drama of life on the floor, from the time I sweep the restaurant floors before opening to the time I sweep the restaurant floors before closing.
But to me, The Bear captures the madness of fine dining in a cinematic way that celebrates the romance of the mess. And making cinema out of the mess will go a long way into converting people from those who eat for sustenance to people who recognize food as an art, a science, a political statement, a clear point of view present in every detail.
Every second counts.
Whenever I feel myself falling out of love with the craft of hospitality, I go back to Season 2, Episode 7: “Forks”. 35 minutes that remind me time and again the importance of what I do. Within 35 minutes, writer Alex Russell has given the show’s focal antagonist a hero’s journey, and director Christopher Storer visually puts the street smart character into The Pantheon of fine dining and allows him to do what he does best - bring joy to others.
Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) experiences the life-saving power of helping someone else through a weeklong stage at Ever, a Three Michelin Star establishment. The scruffy, quick-tempered stagiaire starts the week by polishing forks and spewing profanities until his direct supervisor, Garret (Andrew Lopez), convinces him that every minor detail goes into making someone’s dreams come true, and it happens on a nightly basis.
As Richie gets better at polishing forks, he truly takes in more of the world around him. At a pre-shift meeting, the general manager (a genius cameo from producer/actor Rene Gube) informs the front of house team that no bill will be dropped for two married teachers dining at their first Three Star Michelin establishment, along with the specific instructions to drop every supplement at their table, give them a full kitchen tour, and “blow their freaking minds”. Just as soon as Richie processes the fact that restaurants are about so much more than just the food, the scene snaps back to a stern (but still funny) warning about a mysterious smudge that set the kitchen back 47 seconds in the middle of service.
The highs and lows of service. Or, if I can rephrase, the rights and responsibilities of service at the highest level.
Every second counts.
The rest of the episode shows how Richie steps into a new version of himself - a man who wears suits as armor before the battle of service, and views himself as a leader who can see how each small moving part contributes to the overall mission of making someone’s day. Richie is seen reading Unreasonable Hospitality, Will Guidara’s bestselling book about restaurant management and lessons in surpassing expectations.
And then Richie learns that his ex-wife, Tiff (Gillian Jacobs), is newly engaged. The camera is laser focused on the wedding ring still prominently featured on Richie’s left hand - a visual symbol of the flame he still carries. Instead of walking off the job, Richie digs into the work and makes someone’s day by bringing them a taste of Chicago deep dish pizza - a surprise supplement for a table that casually mentioned their sadness when they realized they’d be leaving Chicago without trying deep dish.
Naturally, what happens the next day? The doubt creeps in. Richie calls Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) to tell him that he knows he was sent to stage just to get out of the way during reconstruction at The Bear. Though Carmy tries to dispel Richie’s deep-seeded self-loathing, it’s a casual run-in with the big boss - Chef Andrea Terry (Academy Award winner Olivia Colman) - that quells Richie’s inner demons and reminds him of the little gestures that make a difference.
It’s in the final frame of the episode that Chef Terry refocuses Richie’s attention (as well as the audience’s) on the plaque that’s been hanging on the wall below the clock for the entire staff to keep in mind.
A sign that reads “EVERY SECOND COUNTS” in capital letters.
The Bear as a show reminds me of the joys and pains of this specific line of work, and “Forks” specifically hammers home the reason why I do what I do.
For love of service.
The day after I passed the Certified Sommelier exam, I started my first official sommelier job at a restaurant within spitting distance of the Chase Center. My father-in-law, a fervent Warriors fan, wore blue and gold for a week. I got to pour some of the best wines in the world for discerning basketball fans and concertgoers. It was “the job a million girls would kill for”.
My first year as a sommelier was not easy. I’ve lost count of the number of times I have walked into the bathroom before a shift with puffy eyes and windswept hair. While I was learning how to provide fine dining-level service from a Master Sommelier, I was grieving the sudden loss of my grandmother, my beloved dog Juno, and especially the unexpected passing of my father-in-law. Every time I went to work, I would wipe away tears for my father-in-law who would never get to sit courtside at a Warriors game with my husband while I poured Clos Rougeard a few feet away. And after a few moments, I would dry my eyes with the scratchy one-ply in the stall, apply a bold red lip, and get to work making someone’s day.
Every time I pull my curls into taut braids tucked behind gold hoops, I am putting on my own armor before the battle of service. Like all armor, it is protective, it is a uniform, and it is representative of the sommelier and person that I am. So that every time I step on the floor, I remind myself that I stand on the shoulders of the boundary-breaking women that have come before me, and I am paving the way for more Latina women like myself to take up space in front of house roles.
There are days when I allow the doubts to take over. These are the days when I have a hard time seeing the forest through the trees - when I’m buried so deep in drink tickets that I can’t tell the difference between a one and a two. But these are also the days when someone will wander up to the bar for the first time and get caught up in the sheer delight of enjoying a glass of wine.
Which is exactly why I will always love restaurant service.
Every second counts. You never know when you make someone’s day.
To those about to walk into service tonight? Let it rip.
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I’m so proud of you! This makes me so happy.