Bob

Continued from Paths Not Taken (Part One)

It was the cheese, the crust and the sauce that made a Buddy’s pizza. The other toppings were just there to hitch a ride on the cheese, the crust and the sauce. And I had the recipe for all three – never to do a single thing with any of them, except for an occasional personal pie for family and friends. The cheese, the crust and the sauce.

But I would be lying if I said I never seriously thought about it. In fact, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve threatened to open my own restaurant, a bed and breakfast, food truck or catering service. But as so many other things, life gets in the way of the things we dream of.

You’ve probably heard it suggested that, “the food business is a young person’s game.” While I believe there is some truth to that, I also believe I will never be too old to do something I really have a passion for.

Except becoming a theoretical physicist. I think I am too old to become a theoretical physicist.

I have always loved physics. I can still hear my high school physics teacher providing the only law of physics we should absolutely never forget – ever. Referring to electricity, he beseeched us, “never become the pathway for electrons.” This, as he would continue to explain, would mostly result in death.

Good advice really. And it got my attention. Thus began my love of science, particularly physics – another path not not taken.

But that reminds me of what I love most about my chosen career path.

As a brand, marketing and communications consultant, I get to work with the restaurants and scientists I thought I was leaving behind, among a myriad of other businesses every day. As a web usability expert, I get to design websites for every type of business imaginable. It’s through these businesses in which I get to live my paths not taken vicariously – every day.

I am really happy to have learned all about pizza at Buddy’s, cooked in my dad’s bar and restaurant, and worked doing magic as a bartender during college. But if I hadn’t taken the path I did, I would never have had the opportunity to consulted with several very cool restaurants – developing their brands, menus and marketing strategies. I never would have been able to work with the esteemed scientists, doctors, college professors, community leaders, government agencies, artists, musicians – or several of the largest companies in the world. For these reasons and more – I am grateful the unique and rewarding opportunities my path has afforded.

But there they sit in my recipe file. The cheese, the crust and the sauce.

My Menu (Part Three of Paths Not Taken)

The following events may, or may not have taken place in this precise order.

My first real job ever was selling shoes on Saturday afternoons.  I was probably 15, barely old enough to get a work permit. To this day, I distinctly remember what the owner of Whitehall Shoes looked – and sounded like. It wasn’t a bad job, but the truth was I was biding my time, hoping to get a call from the place just across the street – Rudi’s Subs. That’s where I really wanted to work – in a restaurant.

I didn’t get that call right away, and my hours dwindled as Whitehall shoes found itself competing with big box retailers who had begun their descent on the community. I soon replaced my lost income working at the theater next door to the shoe store.

One day, I walked over to Rudi’s between jobs to buy some lunch. While waiting for my order, I struck up a conversation with the owner about the application I submitted a few months back. We chatted for a few minutes.

“No sir, I am not old enough to drive yet, but my mom will be sure I arrive on time.”

“Yes sir, I can make change without using a register, would you like me to show you?”

I guess he was impressed with my answers, or maybe that I was working two jobs at my age. Regardless, he offered me the job right there, and then.

“Yes sir, I can start immediately.”

I really don’t remember much about the place except that I was just happy to be working at a restaurant. Then, I got the news Rudi was closing his doors. He had sold the business.

As it turned out, he sold the business to another, thriving entrepreneur with plans on expanding – and improving the menu. Goodbye canned mushrooms. Hello fresh-baked breads, quality meats and produce – and PIZZA!

Buddy, the new owner invited each of Rudi’s employees to re-interview for their job. Much to my excitement, he asked me to stay. When I asked why I got the job, I remember him saying he wanted employees who loved good food, not a job. I was just turning 16 and already had, for me at the time, my dream job.

Buddy took me, and a couple of others under his wing, and taught us everything he knew about pizza making. We made subs and salads too, but the pizza was the thing at Buddy’s. Not just any pizza either. Pizza made with his mom’s third-generation sauce recipe. Pizza made with his own secret blend of cheeses. Pizza made in such a way, there wasn’t another like it anywhere – a fact that stands true to this day. It was, and remains incomparable.

I was young, but under the stone-cold stare and iron fist of Buddy’s supervision, I learned that pizza making was it’s own culinary art. I took pride in making the best pie I could. He encouraged me to experiment with dough handling, stretching and throwing techniques, ingredients, cooking surfaces, oven temperatures – every aspect of the pizza. We made some improvements along the way, but mostly they were experiments in what not to do – and why.

It was my four year stint as a pizza maker that started my love affair with food. When I finally had to leave my job, my parting gift was his mom’s sauce recipe – with a promise to never share it with anyone.

I promised. And with that promise, Buddy had turned me into a food snob before I even graduated from high school.

Paths Not Taken (Part Two)