(Written Jan 2, 2017 in an effort to fill in the gaps from the first 6 months of a shoddy blog)
Here's what I remember--zero sleep. I know I was in a flop sweat doing all kinds of what must have been essential last minutes tasks. Chopping tomatoes at 3 am. Programming the ipad with all the menu items. Deciding if the bulk cinnamon should be stored in a cabinet in the kitchen, or in the storeroom out back. I felt like I was in one of those cooking shows where you have 2 hours to make an impressive meal for a panel of judges. Except that I was making an entire restaurant, and a couple hundred people were about to breach the doors.
I don't remember the opening. I have data that shows we had an amazing day. I have a $20 in my office (still needs to be framed) from the very first purchase. Maybe it was lack of sleep...or maybe my brain has taken the terror and tucked it away to protect all my future endeavors, whatever it is--I can't remember one thing about opening day.
Except for the closing.
Luis and I were shell-shocked, and exhausted. And then Lisa (the previous owner of The Lobster Pool and now a StudioCrepe Manager) educated me in all the details of a proper kitchen close. Look, Luis has done this a million times in kitchens where he worked before--and I've always seen it happen out of the corner of eye while managing the front of the house. But when faced with your very own massive pile of dishes and tureens and your pristine stainless steel surfaces are lost under a mayhem of flour and red wine--AND all of this, while sleep deprived, well--you do what I did. You wrestle back the instinct to sob, and while you begin the first of what will be a nightly exhuming process, you wish for a fire.
I begged for a mighty, all-consuming inferno to visit the Studio and save me and Luis from what we dared attempt to do.
After months of meticulous planning and years of saving, we did it. We birthed an enormous, hungry, volatile idea into the world. And I wanted it dead. I wanted so badly the safety of the status quo, but it was too late. We had become something new, and we were now babes too.