By now I have heard a number of metaphors and references used to explain the workings of a restaurant. It got me to thinking… there are so many intricacies, systems, and processes going on behind the scenes… restaurants are just like the human anatomy.

It may seem like a stretch, but humor me on this one. Read on.

Let’s first state the obvious. Dishwashers are the heart and heartbeat of the kitchen. Very simply put, we cannot survive without them. They work harder than everyone else. They are required to do more in a short period of time. And let’s be honest. Everything gets thrown at them all at once. Literally.

It is so much more than “dish washing”. At my current restaurant the dish washers are responsible for the washing flatware, bowls, cups, plates, and pots big enough to cook entire animals. Tasks vary based on environment. But it doesn’t stop there. They are also responsible for emptying the trash (which is forever full), cleaning the floors and restrooms, and daily/weekly deep cleaning and maintenance.

During peak hours we stack up bowls, cups, and spoons faster than the machine can wash them (Heaven forbid the machine malfunctions or the drains clog). On the off chance that they have down time, they unload deliveries and re-organize the areas we can never seem to keep in order.

The dishwashers are constantly soaking wet, scraping our burned pots, wading through unpleasant combinations of food and trash, all the while trying to avoid burning themselves with the stacks of hot pans which we forgot to mention just came off the stove. They work with harsh chemicals (usually without protective gear because they are stubborn and it slows them down).  They do all of this without complaining and rarely even receive an acknowledgment by the end of their shift.

Next time you are getting on the dishwasher’s bad side ask yourself – which of your line cooks or servers will be happy to get their nice uniform wet and filthy to bust suds for a  couple of hours?

I love my dishwashers. I feed them generously. I acknowledge them constantly. I make sure their needs are met. I will fight over their well-being in the blink of an eye. I get down and dirty to help them when needed. We must never take them for granted or devalue them because we feel that we somehow contribute more. We don’t! They help the entire operation to function. We must take care of them. If the heart stops, we’re dead.

After the heart comes the back bone. Anyone who’s had back pain can tell you it can be debilitating. You need a strong backbone to sustain you for the long haul. The back bone is the prep team. The prep team has the most tedious tasks in the restaurant. Unless you’ve peeled eggs or sliced scallions for eight hours straight, you have no idea! I’ve spent some time doing prep work. Every time I have a hand in prep, I appreciate them much more.

Peeling, dicing, par-boiling, blending, measuring, and portioning ingredients. There are no words. You know those intricate beautiful plates that look like works of art? The thinnest shaved carrots and celery strands? The roasted julienne peppers? The shaved parmesan and picked herbs? The pickled shallots, glazed pearl onions, and confit bacon slices? The ground sesame and grated ginger? The beautifully balanced house sauce that you cleaned off your plate? That surprising “pop” and “zing” of flavor and texture? Someone had to cut those supreme blood orange slices by hand you know. You can thank the prep cooks.

When you go to a concert all you focus on is the show. You don’t think about the sound engineers, the lighting technicians, the people who built the stage (which doubles as a football field). It’s the same way with prep cooks. The Chef created the menu and concept. But s/he usually makes it in it’s entirety once or twice. It has to be made another 700+ times that week. The prep team has to be strong. Physically and metaphorically. They work well before and after service. After organizing the walk-in refrigerator/freezer, they come out to get a steam bath from hot broth and sauce pots. They are most likely to catch a cold, dealing with these temperature extremes. They handle raw proteins, use dangerous/complicated equipment, and are constantly being pressured to produce things faster, better, or in larger volumes. Forecasting, pars, deliveries, equipment, supplies, profit and loss… it mostly rides on them. They take ownership and pride in their work. There is nothing to plate unless it has first been “prepared”. Without a backbone we are completely disabled.

Let’s not neglect the muscles! My favorite part of the anatomy. Mostly because it’s where I spend most of my time. The Chef(s) and line cooks are undoubtedly the restaurant’s muscle. Chefs and line cooks must be agile and strong. They must display speed and dexterity. They must learn to work in perfect unison in order to be strong. No one can be under utilized or you risk weakness. No one can be over utilized or you risk lethargy. “The Line“, as we affectionately refer to the line cooks, has to work well under pressure. They have to quickly adapt and rebound from mistakes (and remember not to repeat them). The tickets never stop coming in. But that just means you’re doing it right!

Working on “The Line” is a dance. Like ballroom, tango, foxtrot, and salsa all rolled into one. It takes a special individual to succeed and enjoy working in such a setting. And just like weight training, your every day goal is pushing yourself beyond yesterday’s limitations. The buck stops in the kitchen. “The Line” is really the bottom line. Even if the dishwashers and prep cooks are the best, the customers couldn’t care less. As impressive as all that may be customers really aren’t concerned with what it took or how long it took to achieve the end result. They want good food, at a reasonable price, and fast. It’s in our best interest to ensure that the muscles are healthy and strong.

The vital organs, skeletal system, and muscle fibers all have one thing in common. They share one brain. It is the brain that gives them signals to respond to. The brain, as you may have guessed, is the front of house staff. The managers and their hosts, servers, bussers, food runners, and expeditors all make up the front of house. They are the ones in direct contact with the customers. They know it all. They know how the customers feel, how long it’s taking for the orders to go out, the number of customers who walked in and out, etc. They keep track of all the details. And the devil is in the details. They know if there are problems in the kitchen and it’s their job to ensure that customers don’t. They send tickets to the kitchen, bills to the customers, and everything in between. Every concern, compliment, or complaint travels through the front of house system like nerve endings. Lighting, ambiance, decor, seating, service, speed? All part of the brain.

Even if the food is great, people will be less inclined to suffer through bad service and extended waits to get it. The front of house must be alert, attentive to details, and in tune with all the needs of the body systems and external environment. They must foresee, identify, and prevent system malfunctions. The brain never stops working. It needs stimulation and challenge to be at it’s best.

I started out writing this post for fun. But metaphors aside, I’ve come to know that it is useful and important to understand your restaurant’s anatomy. Each part has a unique function. No one part is more valuable than the other. They all have a role in a creating a healthy, profitable, and sustainable organization.

To my fellow restaurant staff:

No matter your structure, function, or number of moving parts, be sure to acknowledge and take care of your entire anatomy. Your need each other to survive.