Thrashed by the Dayton Slicer
Stiffs in the dining room, meat dying in the pass, blood on the butcher block: A nightmare in Dayton’s Elm Street Grille.
Early on, it had seemed like an ordinary dinner service, but as the long night wore on, a strange foreboding overcame the staff. Would the pumpkin pie be 86’d before the shift ended?
They’d never been able to keep up with this volume before. It seemed almost magical how the tickets kept flying through the pass. Servers became transfixed on turning more covers than ever.
To keep up this pace, the FOH knew all along that that lingering four-top must be eliminated. Would crop-dusting the dining room rid them of those pesky campers forever? Were the GAR chairs too enchantingly comfortable?
In the BOH, it seemed that the new equipment was possessed! The Dayton Slicer worked more effectively than any ever had. The garde manger was able to work twice as fast as the sous chef, who just couldn’t keep up.
In the BOH, it seemed that the new equipment was possessed! The Dayton Slicer worked more effectively than any ever had. The garde manger was able to work twice as fast as the sous chef, who just couldn’t keep up.
Would the nightmare end with the chef found buried in the weeds?
Why hadn’t they opened a ghost restaurant instead?
As Reviewed on Amazon
