Life, on the Line by Grant Achatz (book club reads .txt) 📕

At that point I hurried up and waited. And waited.

Several weeks went by, and I started second-guessing my gut feeling on how much she enjoyed the meal until I got word that her assistant had called to book a second reservation. The requested date was a month away, but Alinea was going through some growing pains. Alex had given notice, and along with him his second in command of pastry, Jordan Kahn. This was a bit of a blow for me, because Alex had been a huge creative force at Alinea since day one. Ruth’s pending reservation was for August 25; Alex was leaving at the end of July.

I met with the team of sous chefs and we jointly made the decision to not hire another pastry chef. Alex’s desserts were a perfect fit for the style of cooking we were doing, and I couldn’t think of another person who would make a seamless transition. John Shields, one of the sous chefs, offered to move off the hot line and oversee the pastry station.

Ruth made a reservation for a follow-up visit. That told me something good was going on. The second visit was for two people, and they requested the Tour menu. I remembered back in 2001 that Gourmet had put out a restaurant issue that contained their ranking of the fifty best restaurants in the country, but I didn’t know they only did the list every five years.

Ruth arrived with Gourmet’s senior editor, John Willoughby. Joe escorted the two into the kitchen for a quick hello. The team slowed their rapid pace, and sous chef Curtis Duffy flicked off the exhaust hood, rendering the kitchen absolutely silent. After a nervous greeting, I thanked them for coming, and they were then led upstairs to their table. At that moment, it was as though someone had turned an old-school movie projector back on—the kitchen exploded with action and sound. I instructed all the cooks, the running staff, and the expediter that I wanted to see every plate for her table on the way out and on the way back. The phrase “coming and going” was born. If the chef is looking at all of your plates on the way out and after they’re cleared, you’ve achieved the ultimate VIP status. I knew I would likely plate most of her food myself, but this was a simple way to make sure that nothing got past me if I happened to be working other tables. I sent a message up to the dining room to bring the captain down to the kitchen. Peter Koludov, the bald Bulgarian who had waited on me when I was trying out for my job at Trio, and who had subsequently come to Alinea when we opened, was running the team in her room.

“Peter, this has to be perfect, I mean perfect. We have been doing this together now for four years, you know what has to happen. I want to see everything that comes off that table. Everything. Glasses, silverware, napkins. And I want to know which of them it came from. And tell everyone to tell me immediately if she makes any comments to you. Anything, even the color of the walls.”

“Yes, Chef.”

Moments later the ticket came in the kitchen. I grabbed it from the front waiter’s hand.

Order in: two Super Soigne Tours.

Typically the expediter would call the orders out. Without breaking rhythm the team shouted back to me.

“Two Super Soigne Tours, Chef!”

Goose bumps ran up my arm.

They smiled after taking bites, laughed at Peter’s jokes, and engaged the team throughout their twenty-seven courses over four hours. Every plate came back clean, and all reports were that they were having a great time.

After the meal they came downstairs and into the kitchen to say good-bye. I asked them the same question I ask every guest that I meet after their meal.

“So, how did we do?”

Ruth stood there looking at me with a giant smile on her face and did not say a word.

“Chef, you have Ruth Reichl on line two,” one of the reservationists whispered to me as I peeled asparagus.

I walked to the host area and saw the light for line two blinking; I grabbed the handle and pushed the button.

After exchanging greetings she spoke up. I was wildly and unexpectedly nervous.

“Grant, I don’t know if you know this, but every five years Gourmet does a restaurant issue where we rank the fifty best restaurants in the country.” I told her I recalled seeing it back in 2001, and remembered that Chez Panisse came in at number one and the Laundry at three.

“Well, the issue will come out this October, and I wanted to call you personally and tell you that we have chosen Alinea to be on the list.” She paused for dramatic effect. “At number one.”

I was speechless. Dumbfounded. Ecstatic. Every good emotion one can imagine, all at once. After trying to gather my thoughts, I thanked her profusely. I don’t even remember hanging up. I’m not sure if I said good-bye.

I immediately called Nick.

“Dude. So remember how Ruth came in?”

“Of course.”

“I just got off the phone with her. Turns out they are putting out a list of the country’s fifty best restaurants in the October issue.” I took a play out of her book and paused. “Alinea is number-fucking-one dude. Number one.”

I immediately went downstairs and penned a thank-you e-mail to Ruth and sent if off the next day.

Ms. Reichl:

It has been a day now, and your phone call has settled in. I hope I conveyed my excitement properly, but I suspect I was too surprised to do so. As I said to you before, I truly believed you would enjoy Alinea, but I never expected to receive such an honor.

Two days before we opened Alinea I addressed the entire staff. I told them anything less than being the best in the country would not be good enough for us. Thankfully the majority of the people that