When we walk in this door, we leave everything but the most important parts of ourselves behind; our dented cars, dirty dishes, idle projects and disappointments-
We enter to sounds of crashing pans and a mad jangle of silverware, breaking glassware, and layers of background rumbling. ..
& we set our mise to the sounds of unanswered cell phone alarms, text signals, ringing, and beeps from all directions- door chimes, machine parts busting,
and all sorts of semi vocal signals from co-staff and the computer system & guests alike.
While the delivery drivers, producers and wine reps stand silent on the stairs holding the myriad assortment of the day's perishables,
roasted bacon, fried eggs, toasted seeds and yeasted bread further fill the space that has become our dreamtime...
here- in the midst of orchestrated transformational chaos, we collectively aim to synchronize, create and unify; to have time for reflection, even just a moment of self witness, and the opportunity to honestly surrender.
THIS
IS KISMET
in the midst; rhode island calamari arrives and is lovingly handled and gracefully transformed over fire- three, four, five sets of hands gently work this process forward-
flames. olive brine. cured lemon. braised garlic. and then a finesse- as the dish is passed on.
in the corner confectionary; egg whites whipped for 15 minutes to form the lightness that becomes meringue- while discussing quince syrup and crumb topping. lemon zest piled on the counter, fresh thyme soaking in sparkling rose, macerated black berries.
on the counter: grilled peaches, atlantic octopus, kitchen renovation floor plans
& in the back ground; miguel perfecting cast iron fried eggs.
in just a few moments we will open,
xoxo
