Well, well, well. What happened to the Rendezvous? We’re gone. Closed for good, sorry to say. 6/1/11 would have been our 16th anniversary. How time flies! We had a good run, though, and appreciate all the wonderful support we had. That appreciation extends not only to all our customers/friends, but to the employees whom we felt were like “family” over the years.
This is really the first time I’ve sat down to address the issue. We closed quietly and walked away, with no fanfare. I felt sorry for our remaining faithful and very wonderful employees.
We started the place on a shoestring, and never really made enough to say we were “profitable,” though the IRS thought otherwise, which I guess is a good thing. But over the years, with the decline in the local economy, as the Georgia Pacific mill finally closed after trimming from 600+ employees to around a hundred, and the decline in the fishing industry, locals tightened their belts. When the stock market took a beating a couple or so years ago, we lost some of our regulars who were on fixed incomes and, of course, with the recession (spelled with a “D” in our book) that ensued, virtually everybody started to cut back. With massive corporate layoffs, skyrocketing gas prices, and all the other economic doo-doo that was hitting the fan, along with the economic voodoo, cutting back was the smart thing for people to do.
Finally, it became time to cut our losses. In our 15+ years, we had never had to take the drastic action of not opening for dinner when we had no one on the books for any given night. But, come October, that was the reality.
What a difference a few months make. In the summer of 2010, I figured it was about time to step things up a notch. Work on some marketing programs locally, which had been in the back of my mind for years, but which never came into being, and raise some financing to upgrade the rooms and the dining room.
My sous chef, Lindsey, and I worked on some ideas. We got one of the marketing plans up and running on a small scale, and it was well-received. We worked on my idea--going back many years--of doing theme rooms for the B&B, with each representing a different area of France. We (Lindsey, actually) got this blog up and running for better communication with our friends, on a fairly informal basis. The were a lot of things in the hopper, so to speak, but when the bottom fell out from under the business in the fall, I didn’t feel the outlook was good enough to justify borrowing.
So, that’s sort of the short story. If you know me well enough, you know that I miss it. As I’ve always told people, cooking for me is therapy. If I had the energy, I could do it 24/7. With Lindsey in the kitchen, I think we were turning out some of best food ever. She had been through a culinary program in Arizona, had had restaurant experience, has a wonderful, creative mind, a wonderful attitude and lots of energy. Over time though, everybody on the staff was under more and more pressure as hours had to be cut back in the face of slowing business. We all had to work our butts off.
So, in a way, I’m relieved. For now, it’s a nice respite. It’s no fun losing money, and it’s no fun having to tell the staff not to come in for work. And it’s no fun having everybody work under so much pressure. We’ll see what happens down the road. I’m not counting out another restaurant (sans B&B), but I’d be smart to wait till the economy improves.
A lot of people wanted me to write a cookbook and, partly for that reason, a good friend of the Rendezvous bought me the laptop I’m currently using after my old, clunky Compaq bit the dust many years ago. I always laughed, though, because writing a cookbook is not an easy task. At least, not if you want to do it well. There are so many wonderful stories and memories from the Rendezvous. Recipes, too, of course. And this blog was going to be the beginning of sharing a lot of that. Sort of building a cookbook one step at a time. And, I may still post some things from time to time, in case anyone’s interested. Lindsey may, too, though I don’t want to put any pressure on her. She and I see eye-to-eye on a lot of kitchen and cooking-related matters.
Some of my fondest memories, of course, revolve around the people over the past 15 years, both customers and employees. We gave quite a few high school kids their first jobs, and saw some go on to do wonderful things, or just be wonderful people, in general. It seems unfair, perhaps, to mention names, because there are so many. But I do want to mention a few nonetheless. Paul, who worked in the kitchen with me, and absorbed things like a sponge, and who went on to a culinary program in Scottsdale. Paul wasn’t notable just because he absorbed everything; he was a great kid and a hard worker. I always have regretted the night I yelled at him for getting a dessert plate wrong that we were assembling for a dinner we were doing for the staff of a well-known Sonoma County winery. This, Paul, is my apology.
Paul’s sister, Kristine, also worked for us as a busser. She was another good kid, who went on to U.C. Berkeley. But what has always humbled me were their parents, who always thanked us for taking them in and giving them their first jobs. Their gratitude was overwhelming.
Cherie, another busser. Bright, a great worker, a very nice person. Who could have waited tables for us, but didn’t want to ask, and ended up leaving for another restaurant.
Elise, yet another busser. Went to the University of Wisconsin for genetic engineering, but ended up becoming an international lawyer. Lived in such far-flung places as China, Thailand, and ended up working for the International Red Cross in Geneva for a while.
Kitchen folk--Liz aka “Lizard,” but only to me. Wow. Got a business degree from Humboldt State and then went to through the two-year program at the country’s best culinary school, the Culinary Institute of America, in Hyde Park, where she did extraordinarily well.
Roxanne. Brilliant in the kitchen, and brilliant now. Both a great cheerleader and a great critic (much appreciated) in the kitchen.
Willie. Old (not really), reliable Willie. Always there when you needed him. He saw an awful lot of kitchen people come and go.
Lindsey, of course, goes on the top of this list.
Waitron types--Mark, like Wille, saw a lot of people come and go. He was there till the end, and a favorite of a lot of customers. I finally had to tell him how annoyed I was getting because frequently people would call for reservations--and 95% of the time I would answer the phone--and they would say “Is this Mark?” Mark was a retread. One of many. Retreads were nice, because so often it seemed people wanted to come back to work a second--or sometimes even a third--time. Mark worked for us many, many years ago, but left because of our system of handling the cash bank at the end of the night. But he had a heart of gold, and I kept telling him he was welcome to come back any time. And he finally did. The second time, I think he lasted about nine years. Mark’s like the brother I never had.
Lisa...I have to mention because she’s sort of legendary. Another retread. A very good waitress, good at thinking on her feet.
Hadji. A real professional, city-type waiter. Polished. Good at selling. Good at making the customers happy, and wasn’t bashful about making special requests to the kitchen to make that happen. Great sense of humor, great smile. Actually, now that I think of it, most everybody who worked for us had a great sense of humor. Hadji was the only one ever on the staff to address me as “chef.” But only on the job. I respected his respect.
Customers over the years...so many...so wonderful. And you know who you are. But I want to mention Stan and Bette, who would call to ask if we had salmon, and would always have us prepare a special sauce for them. And Bob and Shirley, who always wanted pheasant in the fall with a golden chanterelle cream sauce. People like these touched my heart.
Finally, the hero behind the scenes. Janice, who was always every bit as important as I was. She kept us afloat. She paid the bills, and made sure the checks never bounced. She kept me on the straight and narrow. Her cash-flow knowledge was phenomenal and, along with everybody else, the pressure on her really increased as the years went on and especially the past year as she was trying to keep it all together. But that’s the end of the story. The beginning is that she is the one who encouraged us to quit our corporate jobs and move to France for a year, so I could work in one of the top kitchens there. Without that encouragement, there never would have been a Rendezvous to begin with.
FAQ: What am I doing now?
As some of you know, I was selling wine wholesale for a broker in my “spare time” in Mendocino County over the last three years. At the end of last year, Sonoma County was offered to me. So, I live in Sonoma now, and sell wine.
I miss Fort Bragg. I miss all my acquaintances. I miss the area. I miss the pace. If I were to do a restaurant again, I think I’d want it to be in Fort Bragg.
