Magical Dishwashers
by Tanner Price
Opinions expressed in this articles do not necessarily represent the point of view of Best Served. In furtherance of bringing more voices to the table, we are committed to sharing varied thinking throughout the industry.
The clock strikes seven on a sticky-hot Friday night in late July. The heat and humidity amplify the smell of a fifty-five-gallon can, lined with a thin black plastic bag overflowing with a culmination of the evening’s service. Hot tub pruned fingers struggle to grip, lift, and fireman-carry the bag to the dumpster while plate ware continues to rain down like a tsunami after it’s reached its summit. The air tastes of splattered droplets of food parcels flung and now dangling to one’s lips and face. Swinging doors crack and slam open with the sound and force of a gunshot.
Busting through these doors barrels a server with the frantic pace of one who has been through the shit of the hungry huddled masses of the proverbial weekend crowd. “Behind!” “Corner!” They come to a screeching halt; in one hand they hold a precarious stack of plates, silverware atop, and in the other, glasses stuffed into one another with water sloshing, squeezed lemon wedges piling, beverage napkins crumpling, and straws swirling. They have arrived at a place little known or understood by the hordes just beyond those swinging doors.
A metal monolith gurgles and spits, rattles and churns. It steams and it radiates a sweltering heat that hits you like the shockwave of a bomb blast. The server is stifled, uncomfortable, annoyed, impatient, and impetuous at that moment. They abruptly drop their wares and slip around the corner like a thief in the night. A hulking, slightly slouched, sweat-drenched, wide-eyed young man with a stubbled face and disheveled damp hair whips a look over their shoulder at the recently deposited remnants of the culinary journey of Table 17.
He lets out a deep bellowing sigh, a sigh of frustration, of resigned acceptance to the ever-mounting situation. Yet, there is determination and purpose that echoes in this sigh. His eyes sharpen. His gaze morphs into focused intensity as he grabs the dishes now on his station and scrapes tiny, discarded morsels of now unrecognizable food bits into the disposal.
A chef of mine once told me the story of a young man (20 years old) who upon showing up for his first dish shift explained that he did not know how to wash dishes. The chef asked him if he knew how to wash his hands, and the young man replied, “Yes”. The chef then told him to do that and put a dish in between his hands. Not a very magical start but a humorous one nonetheless.
The heartbeat of the restaurant is the kitchen. It is the engine that generates the production of progress, creativity, and monetary gain. To produce, the kitchen must also have a heartbeat which can often be heard in the form of chemicals pumping through the dish machine, the scrubbing of pots and pans, and maybe, sometimes, profanity. Here is where we find the often-overlooked conductor of the clamor, the true zeniths, the pearl divers, the polishers, the twinklers and shiners, and the gleamers and glisteners, that make it all possible: the dishwashers.
The dish pit is as much a station as any other brigade station such as pantry, pastry, sauté, forno, fry, fish, action, grill, roast, and so on. The main difference being that this is where food (hopefully only food residue) is cleaned off the plate rather than plated. The battle commanders of this continued melee can often become the swiss army knives of the kitchen; magicians of their craft with the ability to do more than most. Full of motivation, resolve, and proper training we may find ourselves amid what can be deemed as the magical dishwasher.
Anthony Bourdain notes that, “Everything important I learned, I learned as a dishwasher.”
Magical dishwashers recognize this early on and progress their way to roundsman. They challenge the chef to question how quickly they might move them onto a line station. Within and beyond the stacks of plates, bins of silverware, racks of glasses, and three-compartment sinks full to the brim, there lies opportunity.
No good deed goes unrewarded in terms of an individual’s ability to become magical. These swiss army knives might spend most of their time in the dish pit, yet a chef who recognizes a high level of work ethic, and therefore potential, will quickly pull them to the prep line. They may find themselves rolling out ninety-plus Parker House rolls in between services, feeding the starter, cleaning baby carrots, peeling potatoes, dicing onions, and much more. Essentially, these individuals are being cross-trained and tested. Their dedication and passion will be, if desired, paramount to a full transition to prep or line cook.
Those of us who have spent time in the business speak of the world being a much better place if everyone worked in the service industry for six months, being a dishwasher for six months, even more so. There may very well be truth to this, yet it takes more than the work itself. It is how you approach the work. It is pride in doing the best work one can do.
The magic lies somewhere in between the expectations of the job and what may not be regarded as the job. However, the motivated know everything is their job. This is also a double standard for chefs. I am not opposed to taking over dishes or taking a plunger to a clogged toilet while knife handling techniques are being taught to eager learners by the sous chef.
Zane Ross arrived at the kitchen of a luxury guest ranch in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado for the winter season of 2019. When he walked into the kitchen for his shifts, he came with a purpose. The young dishwasher became a sponge, observing and absorbing all he could while tackling the demands of the dish pit. I have had the pleasure of working with a few magical dishwashers and the first one that comes to mind is Zane. The dishwasher should always be taken care of, especially because you never know when they might walk into your weekly jujitsu class looking to roll, as this guy did! Our dedication to our work is evident in what we do when we are not working. Outside of the kitchen, he participated in jujitsu, did sound for the ranch and the local skate church, and somehow found time to be a dog sledding guide on his days off. When I spoke to him about his purpose, he explained that he believes everyone is an expert at something and it is his endeavor to gain all the knowledge he can. As he stated, “Just shut up and watch, purpose is what makes it worth it.” It is no surprise that he is now back home in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, waking up at 2 am to learn the ancient craft of baking artisan bread. I got to tell you, proud chef.
Unlike the criteria for today’s mechanical dishwashers, being a magical dishwasher does not begin with cosmetics, capacity, quietness, and cleaning ability, although all may be beneficial, they’re toward the bottom of the list. The U.S Bureau of Labor Statistics in May of 2019 estimates there were 514,330 employees throughout the country holding a dishwashing occupation with a median wage of $11.74. The occupation is described as someone who cleans food preparation equipment, utensils, dishes, and the kitchen, however as you may know by now, the list goes further. And so here is the criterion for what I believe made Zane and can help others become the magical backbone of the kitchen.
Attitude: Most chefs can train anyone how to cook but they cannot change someone else’s attitude. You can influence the attitude or let your attitude be influenced.
Dependability: Be early, be engaged, take initiative.
Trust: Do not take advantage, be the advantage.
Passion: Whatever the job, find a way to fall in love with it. You get out what you give in.
Performance: See a need, fill a need. All hands in, all hands out. Keep progressing.
The proof is in the pudding and Eric Raty is just one notable example of a now two-Michelin star chef who began as a dishwasher. He has had a spectacular rise to evolving into the Chef de Cuisine of Arbor in Hong Kong. Humble beginnings can often lead to epic accomplishments. It is not what you have in front of you but what you do with what you have and how you approach it. All great castles started with a single block and this is the attitude of the magical kitchen staff who are everything this industry has come to rely upon. It is not the job nor the dish. It is the individual behind the dish. They’re the ones that sparkle.
Keep grinding, keep shining, and continue being the magic that makes it all worth it. Thanks to all the stainless-steel misfits and warriors for all you do!
Tanner Price, a born and raised Coloradoan, started creating menus at age 8 for a class assignment featuring unique items and naming the envisioned restaurant The Treehouse. After 12 years in the industry he had the opportunity to create a menu for a tavern as the Head Chef and since hasn’t looked back. With a zest to explore and discover, his culinary expeditions have taken him to kitchens and galleys at fine dining restaurants, pubs, taverns, golf courses, country clubs, hostels, a luxury dude ranch, and a cruise line. Currently, he is living his dream as a chef on a luxury private super yacht. With a degree from The University of Colorado, Denver in English Writing , Rhetoric, and Technology, Tanner also excels as a story teller with wit and wisdom. “It is one thing to experience the US and International cooking adventures, it is another to write and share stories about them in a way that inspires people to engage in their passions,” says Price. Around food and the table he is at his happiest. He can be reached via email at Tr.Price@outlook.com and loves to share his journey on Instagram at Chef_Dogtown. Chef Tanner is a believer in the dreamers and states, “The only person that can keep you from achieving your goals is you, so become a lion and eat that person.”
