By Gina Restaurant

It’s Friday night. I’m half in service, half in admin mode.

I’m standing in the kitchen, apron on.
To my right: 6 litres of rice pudding bubbling away.
Behind me: 60 slices of perfectly cut chocolate cake.
In front of me: mise en place for a busy night of dessert service; almond praline, sour cherries, palmiers, spoons, scoops, chocolate ganache in a bain-marie.

A sourdough starter waits to be fed.
Two gratin dishes of peach cobbler sit to the side.
Towering vol-au-vent shells cool on a tray.

My prep list is clipped in front of me. I’m stealing a minute, just one, to finalise this newsletter I’ve been trying to box off for over a week.

Most days I’ve been here from morning till night.
On the ones I leave to pick up my son; pockets of utter joy, wrapped in tantrums and a new resistance to bedtime, I come back after he’s down to help clean because I can’t resist a deep clean.

My mum has been our anchor. She’s taken on the brunt of the childcare since we opened. That’s a real luxury, and we know how lucky we are to have it because it would be very hard to do it otherwise.

Running a business like this is a mountain. It’s unbelievably challenging. Every single day brings a new, urgent problem.

Earlier on my first “morning off,” I woke up to six missed calls, a burst water pipe down the road, no running water, and a handful of emails that couldn’t wait.

My fantasy of an hour viewing of ‘Trainwreck: Poop Cruise’ on Netflix was pushed back down the priority list.

I’m comfortable being uncomfortable. That’s one thing I know for sure. For a character point of view that’s pretty bang on for doing something totally new.

I don’t sit still. I can’t watch a film from start to finish.
If my mind finds even a second of quiet, it starts dreaming up passionate new projects- ones I feel bound to before I’ve even worked out if they’re feasible.

It contributes to a kind of manic-ness but a beautiful ability to juggle a multitude of different issues at once.
Every time I hit a wall, I push past it. Multi-task until I’m bled dry. I’m not saying I do them all well (I get stuff wrong all the time), but I have a right good go at them.

So let’s talk about ‘the juggle’ because that’s what this is really about.

The reality of being a business owner.
The hundred hats you wear, there’s a lot I didn’t think about.
The expectations- spoken and unspoken.
The things we got right.
The things we missed.
What we’re learning in real-time.

Maybe, hopefully, it’ll help you avoid the kind of overwhelm that leaves you in a dark room whispering:

What have I done?

Some good news, though

We’re now in week three of service.

We’re selling more food than we thought we would.
Every day, we’re rammed and have had pockets of the most amazing customers from local ones and those who have travelled to come and eat with us.
The team is beginning to find its rhythm and I like them all a lot. Some of them are forming new friendships with each other, some of them stay late beyond what is required to lift the mood, play music whilst we finish mopping the floor before sitting down for fried chicken. Some of them make us all laugh hysterically.

There are glimmers now of the days I used to daydream about:

A little corner of the kitchen, just for me. A really lovely team who like to eat
Quiet time to test recipes.
Scribbled specials on the blackboard.

It’s not fully here yet but I can see that it will come.

Responsibilities as an owner

The things no one else sees, but you absolutely have to..

Let’s talk about the not-so-glamorous bits. The bit where the business doesn’t just rely on your creativity or passion- but on your ability to constantly solve problems.

You are the person.
The fixer. The finder. The fire extinguisher.
And that means everything falls under your remit (even the weird bits).

Example?

“Chef, I need you to buy a toilet brush and some air freshener for the staff loo… [because I just took a shit].”

Oh. Right. Thanks for letting me know.

When the aircon breaks- you’re the one making the calls. And when it’s still not fixed and it’s the hottest day of the year you walk around sweating and feeling incredibly guilty about it.
When there’s nowhere to store cleaning products, you’re googling shed solutions and literally building storage from scratch.
When the paint chips, something breaks, or bins start smelling, you’ve got to be the eyes, the ears, and the energy behind fixing it.

Is the place clean?
Is it being respected? What practicalities did we not think about?
Are deliveries arriving at the right time?
Are we over-ordering?
Has someone set something up in a way that will create a huge problem in 2 weeks?

Are the team happy?

You’re holding all of that in your head, constantly.

Behind the scenes there has been health tolls for sure, both Mattie and I have a totally empty fridge and have been consuming a lot of junk food at 1am, we know this isn’t good for us and that this has to be only for the short term.

• Stress ulcers
• Weight gain
• Weight loss
• Hair loss
• Back pain, sciatica
• Nerve pain in my jaw
• A tummy that ties itself in knots
• No time to move or look up, let alone exercise
• A wasted Pilates membership
• Sleeping in separate places
• A toddler who still needs to be held, loved, soothed, picked up and dropped off

The questions I’ve asked myself

• Why did I commit to this?
• Can I actually do it?
• Will anyone come?
• Will they like it?
• What if they hate it?
• What if someone shits up the wall?
• What if we go through another pandemic?
• What if we lose everything?
• If you’ve asked yourself similar questions- you’re not alone.
• I promise you that. The reassuring part is the tonne of business owners and restauranteurs who have come in and looked me in the eye to tell me this is normal and that it will pass. That’s good to know and very comforting. 

The mental load

I stop a lot during the day- just totally blank out.

What was I just about to do? I’m currently trying to oversee all operations, understand how the FOH works, physically organise the space, keep on top of the cleaning management, learn how to serve tables, and be the main pastry chef!

And then my brain starts fast-forwarding:
→ You need to respond to that supplier
→ That invoice is due
→ Someone’s trial shift is tomorrow
→ Where are all the teaspoons? What’s the lead time on ordering more?
→ The glasswash has smashed a load of glasses again, do we need to order more?
→ The oven is flashing an error
→ Is that a leak?
→ You haven’t finished overseeing rotas
→ Someone’s holiday is coming up
→ Did you reply to the woman about the vegan menu? What about the one about the dog? And that party of 9?

→ Why is Donnie waking up at 3am every night?
→ The bar needs to be totally reworked
→ All of those whatsapps need answering
→ Did I forget to book my friend in?
→ Have you gotten back to your lawyer about the pending contract?
→ Is Mattie ok?
→ IS EVERYONE OK?

It’s a lot.

What I’ve learned (so far)

The first real gut-punch lesson:
If you don’t hire well, it will really fuck you.

You can’t carry a bad hire, not in the early days. It will knock everything out of balance, drain you, and create even more work. Hire people who get it. Hire people who care. Hire people who don’t wait to be told everything.

And: get your systems in place early.
It’s so tempting to wait, thinking you’ll sort them once you’re open and “less busy” but by then, you’re just reacting to everything in real time and chasing your tail.

Even if your systems don’t get followed perfectly, even if people forget things, even if your checklist gets ignored once or twice- it’s better than chaos.

I’ve been reassured by people I trust that no one’s systems are perfect in the beginning. That helped.

Tap into the favour economy

Before we opened, it was all hands on deck.

We called in favours – big ones – from friends we couldn’t have done this without.
Every extra hand was the difference between drowning and just-about-floating.

One of the best pieces of advice we got?

Take proper stock of what’s in the building and get it on a spreadsheet.
Track it. Update it. Make it someone’s job. It’s boring, yes, but vital.

When things are this full-on, that inventory will be the only thing that stops you from re-ordering what you already have… or running out of the one ingredient you swore you had loads of. Even though we did this for a lot of the small wares, glassware, cutlery etc there are still moments of people running around not knowing where it all is. This makes me feel like a proper mum, I thought Mattie was the only person who could never find anything despite being shown it 100 times a day! Haha

💌 If this resonated, feel free to forward it to someone who’s juggling too. Or hit reply; I’d love to know what this brings up for you.

Rav x