Chef Spotter: The Problem Solver
Some chefs can’t wait to get to work so they can find out what the problems are, and fix them.
You’d think this would be a good thing, and it can be.
Or not.
The problem with The Problem Solver is that they don’t want you to solve your own problems, and there’s a limit to how much you can grow in a position if you are always dependent on someone else to fix things. Sometimes they see themselves as “mentors.”
It’s nice when you’re just starting out; you can alway go to Mommy or Daddy and they’ll fix it for you, or tell you how to fix it. But the PS chef has separation anxiety, and is most assurredly a control freak with codependent overtones: He (or she) is not inclined to want you to become independent: Overstep your authority, and they can become very unpleasant.
And don’t even think of challenging their decisions. Or of coming up with your own.
The unfortunate crew of this type of chef stays in a perpetual state of arrested development, and it’s no surprise that things completely fall apart when the chef is on vacation or is otherwise out of the office. Chances are the Sous Chefs don’t know how to place a food order, or who to call when the dish machine breaks down.
All of this makes the PS chef feel like they are desperately needed, while in reality, the mark of a good chef is how well the crew does when he or she is gone.
You may also find that the PS chef attends all departmental meetings alone, interfaces with the administrative staff alone, and generally prevents you from being “visible.” You may think you’re being protected and/or sheltered so you can get on with the very important work you’re doing, but in reality, you’re being made invisible to the very people who could support you during a management shake-up. This is very not good, especially if and when the chef leaves and you find yourself working for someone new.
Switching from one type of chef to another is hellish. It’s one thing to accept a job knowing that you’ve got a PS chef, and quite another to have one thrust upon you suddenly due to firing, resignation, or illness. Try to stay under the radar until you know what type of chef you’ve got. It can’t hurt to come right out and ask them how they want you to deal with problems: It shows your willingness to adapt. Don’t assume you know how this chef wants things handled, because you don’t. Doesn’t matter if you’ve always or never handled things, find out what this chef wants you to do.
Some chefs are happy to have people who are willing to step up to the plate and take on additional responsibility; others view it as you overstepping your authority, and their goal becomes to put you in your place.
“Overstepping your authority.”
How many times have I heard that?
Which Bridges to Cross, and Which to Burn.
“I’d be content if I could learn/Which bridges to cross, and which to burn.”
The question of burning bridges came up this week — someone was about to light a bonfire and walk out, and the point was made to them that everybody knows everybody in this town. And this is not a small town, by any stretch of the imagination. It’s a small world, though, and sooner than you expect, you’ll run into people you absolutely despise.
I’ve got my share.
Pride and ego have had a lot to do with it; mine and theirs.
My first job out of pastry school was as a morning pastry chef. The evening pastry chef was blindly ambitious, maddeningly arrogant, and completely incompetent. I left after just a few months; he was one a major factor in that decision. He’s still around, doing fabulously, still a flirting with his mentors, and they’re still basking in the glow of being worshiped.
Yuk.
At some point — the earlier, the better — you need to decide why you’re doing this — is it to become famous (or at least well-known), is it for the joy of baking, or to make people happy, to gain experience to open your own place, or for some other reason?
You need to be very clear on your goal and do the things that help you achieve that goal.
If your goal is to become famous, then you must realize that Big Cheffing is a very political thing. Find someone in that position who’s willing to talk to you and ask them how they got where they are today. If they say “luck,” or “being in the right place at the right time,” don’t be put off — that’s the throwaway answer. Keep pressing. Did they join certain organizations? Did they sign up as a volunteer for certain groups with the hope of later being admitted as a member? Who are their mentors and how did they acquire them? If you’re lucky, and they see that you’re sincere, you might find them offering to mentor you. Sometimes it works to ask.
It’s much more difficult to become famous if you’re simply fantastic at what you do. You’ve also got to get the word out to the right people, make the right connections, and promote yourself. Once in a blue moon will the world come to you; the rest of the time, you’ve got to work really hard to make things happen.
So now my goals have changed, and the Next Thing on my list, unfortunately, involves some political organizations. The people who are in a position to further my career belong to one of these organizations, and they think it’s important. I don’t, but they do.
So guess who’s one of the committee heads?
That’s right: Mr. Measuring Cups.
I call him this because he did not know how to use a scale.
His years with his famous mentor have taught him how to be famous. Hopefully, they’ve taught him to use a scale, but really, it doesn’t matter. Learning how to be famous is more important than learning how to do the job if what you ultimately want is to be famous: Once you’re famous, you can hire a good pastry chef.
There are going to be people like him that you will encounter, no matter what your profession. Your best bet — to keep your options open — is to keep your opinions to yourself.
I wish I could take my own advice.
Realworldpastrychef's Blog 