I haven't posted in such a long time. I'll be honest with ya. I've been fucking overwhelmed. Opening a restaurant mid summer is a terrible idea if you have children. Terrible, terrible, terrible. The only time the kids don't have to be schlepped from school to activities to home, we decide to open a restaurant. Our poor mini's spent their summer in said restaurant watching paint dry. Thank god it's a noodle shop or man oh man would they have be bummed.
The past month has been me trying to get organized for the kid's school, all the while working at both restaurants and trying not to lose my shit opening a noodle shop in a city that has never seen a noodle shop before. It's been
fuckingfun miserable interestingcrazyasshit exactly as I expected. Surprisingly I haven't been that bad of a drunk which is rare for me when I get stressed. Granted my idea of getting drunk these days consists of a bottle of sour beer, but whatevs, that's what happens when you get old as shit.
It's week whatever of school and month 2 of Noodlecat being opened and I finally feel like I can chill the fuck out a little. Our review came out in the local paper and it's good. Really really good. For some reason I such a nervous nelly about it. I 100% trust in the Chef's ability to cook food. He's a monster. He has some kind of cooking sixth sense. He's like one of those people who can hear a song and play it note for note on a piano. Instead of playing notes, he makes food. He tastes a food, and can make it immediately. Not only can he make it, but he can improve it, he can make it evolve into a dish that will blow pretty much anyone away. So yeah, I fucking trust in his talent and his food.
My worries were never with him or the food. I'm actually not sure where they lied. Did they lie the city that had never seen ramen, in the people who had never tasted it before, or in myself, the girl who decided to paint the restaurant walls blue. I think...my worries and stress all stemmed from the fact that I somehow forgot what it felt like to open a restaurant.
While opening a restaurant can be the MOST incredible feeling in the world, it can also be the scariest. It's like your first day of high school. You picked out the jeans you liked (white Calvin Kleins ca '95), but are they the jeans that everyone else will like too? Will you fit in? Or will you be eating lunch alone? High school neurosis comes back like a tidal wave in those first few weeks of opening a restaurant. Then, just as in high school, that neurosis begins to fade...You meet people, you make friends, you grow, you learn, you live. Same with the restaurant. You open, you stress, you want people to love you, your food. You worry, you change, you evolve, and finally, you trust that what you are doing is good, if not great.
I am so proud of our new baby. She is bright, funky, and a sneaky fucking slupalicious cat and I love her. Seems like Cleveland does too.