Lucky with a side of immense gratitude
This is a bit of a personal story from Cyn Gerdes, one of Hell’s Kitchen founders:
I’ve always considered myself lucky, maybe because I’m a “glass is half full” kinda person. In this global world that’s full of unimaginable hardship and angst, I’ve somehow managed to stay positive, even though things have hurled my way that should have dropped me.
20 years ago, when Mitch (my chef husband), Steve Meyer (our amazing partner), and I decided to open Hell’s Kitchen, lack of capital should have dropped us in our tracks. We’ve already mentioned several of those trials and tribulations, so I’m not going to rehash those here. But when I think back over those 2 decades, somehow we managed to fall on our knees numerous times and then somehow get back up. In fact, I often felt like I lived inside a Whac-A-Mole game. Lucky.
Over the years, other things came our way that continued to remind me how lucky we are at Hell’s Kitchen. Next week is Thanksgiving, and instead of thinking about a turkey dinner, I think back to 2 years ago, when a handwritten envelope postmarked from Luray, Virginia, landed on my desk. When I opened it, a check for $250 fell out. Keep in mind that this was during our long covid-closure, at a time when we were anxiously sweating our dwindling cash flow. We didn’t know anyone from Luray, Virginia, so were shocked to read a simple note that was included. “Don’t need anything in return. Just wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving. Lisa.” Astonished as well as dumbfounded, tears just fell down our cheeks. Lucky.
Every restaurant, I’m sure you know, has fans as well as critics. We’re no exception, but have always been lucky to get rave reviews for the most part. What I find interesting is that after an especially brutal week, something manages to bring our spirits back up. Case in point: when a supply of fresh produce arrived in not-so-fresh condition just as our team was prepping for a huge private event, we were sweating bullets waiting for the replacement product. When it arrived, our kitchen team went into lightning-fast prep mode and managed to get the food out exactly on time, with the client unaware of our behind-the-scenes anxiety and panic. (Think of “The Bear,” Hulu’s wildly popular series.) The next day, out of the blue, our Banquet Manager received this note: "My expectations were super high from all the hype my coworker told me and man were they still somehow blown out of the water and it’s all even MORE DELISH than I thought it would be. T-H-E C-H-E-E-S-E B-O-A-R-D! And the pancakes?! I mean everything!!!! PLEASE tell your staff everything was so good!!!" Lucky.
Every restaurant also has its share of employees who move onto greener pastures. We’re no different, but when our 18-month long covid closure forced many people on our team to work elsewhere, it broke our hearts. Not just because these people were our friends, but also because this was our “A” team. Many have worked at Hell’s Kitchen for year and years, but we obviously understood and wished them well. So imagine our joy when, little by little, many of these same stars texted us back with notes like “any openings?” and “would you consider having me back?” We’re simply blown away that so many have made it back to Hell. Lucky.
When my beloved chef/husband/business partner Mitch died rather suddenly back in 2015, I not only lost one of my life’s greatest loves, but also Hell's Kitchen lost its incredible visionary. The loss had us reeling, but without hesitation, everyone at Hell’s Kitchen leaned way in and pulled us through. The creativity and talent that Mitch brought to the table somehow magically transformed into our entire team, and we now are stronger than ever, with a group of employee owners who come up with fresh new recipes, marketing ideas, and ways to pull together a bazillion personalities into a restaurant that’s now stronger than ever. Lucky.
Lastly, on a very personal note, when I lost “my Mitch,” I was in my early 60’s and certainly never thought I’d find another love in my life. But two years ago, I met a man whose entire career was in food service. His fabulous wife of 33 years, also well known in the restaurant industry, passed away from cancer just months after Mitch died. When Jeff and I met, we instantly bonded, and crazy as it sounds for two old people to get married, we did exactly that 12 weeks ago. The interesting thing about a widow and widower getting together is that we can freely discuss great stories and share our deep love about the people who left our lives way too early. Lots of laughter, zero jealousy, and nothing but joy back in our lives. We call ourselves "The Olds" and we feel Lucky lucky LUCKY.
May your life be kissed with luck as well.
Cyn Gerdes