Anchors Get Built

In a pivotal scene of FX’s smash-hit series “The Bear,” Richie-- a 40-something, recently humbled, trepidatious intern at one of Chicago’s top restaurants-- happens upon the establishment’s owner/chef serenely peeling mushrooms in a quiet, empty kitchen before the start of the day. As a follow up to his childlike “whatcha doin’?” she asks him if he’d “like a go.” 

After giving a brief explanation of the why …“It’s just a nice, little fun detail so that when the diners see it, they will know someone spent a little extra time on their dish,” she hands him a paring knife and continues, “So hold it like this, knife 13:00. Grab the end and then just peel.”

“Why do you do this?” he asks.

“I do it for a living.” 

“No, but like don’t you have stodges that do this shit?”

“Well, I like starting the day with this.”

“Why?”

“Respect, it feels attached.” And then she added, “I think time spent doing this is time well spent.”

“Time. Well. Spent? (almost sarcastically but tinged with a hint of hope) That’s what it’s all about?” 

“Yea. I think so.” 

Peace dripped from the chin of the chef. Joy leaked out of her pores. The previously untethered intern was sensing how anchors get built.  

Until then, Richie hadn’t been able to make the connection of how to get there from here. Excellence seemed so wretchedly far away. He didn’t know, until that moment, that purpose was a thing you could spin, like yarn. But he understood respect. 

He just hadn’t understood how to get it. Or to have it for himself. He had assumed it followed purpose, which he’d searched for –for longer than he’d like to admit--without being able to find.

The chef, carefully peeling mushrooms, turned the recipe inside out.

Do the work well. Spend the time. Stay attached to the itty-bitty core that matters. The yarn will spin itself.

P.S. The Bear Trailer