When I walked into my restaurant this morning (7:30) Rachael was here sweeping and cleaning. I went behind the bar to make a really strong cafe latte and told her "Hey, now would be a great time to water the plants. It's early and you can mist the leaves. They'll love it."
Just then a wave of nostalgia passed over me and I began spewing about my first job in the restaurant business. Rachael, God bless her, tried to look and act interested. She knows from where her checks come. Smart, too, that girl!
Anyhoo I began telling her about Gus' Bar-B-Que in Texas City, Texas. Who knows if I have all the details correct cuz you know I'm older and more tired these days. Where I used to have a coca cola in the morning I now have three cups of very stout coffee!
In the beginning, to the best of my recollection, Mike worked for Gus. Gus started his business in the 60's and his son Neil did most of the cooking. Now, Gus probably started out doing everything, like I did, but when Neil got old enough...well, there's just nothing like child labor when they're your own! Isn’t that why we have children in the first place? Be honest…
One day along came Mike; young, strong, stubborn, independent, hard-working kid. Maybe his first job was bus boy. That's what the voices are telling me. Gus must have really loved Mike a lot or else he was really tired of the restaurant business. Neil loved to cook but had little, if any interest in running the "Family" business. Therefore, it wasn't long before Mike took over. He bought the business from Gus, got a liquor license and kicked the menu up a notch or two. One day Gus's went from a really great Bar-BQ joint to serving Shrimp Scampi, Chicken Piccata, steaks and liquor!
And they came from all over!
And they tipped well too! Later when I had a "Real Job" in marketing at Baker Hughes in Houston I went to some management seminar. The speaker said he made more money per hour waiting tables than almost any other job. If so then why did my parents keep telling me to go get a "Real Job"? And I hear it all the time today in my business, too. I just LOL. My employees have cash on demand! They LOVE it and I loved it! I just never saved it!
It's been years since I've been back to Gus's but I reckon it's still the same; low hung ceilings, dark, busy, loud and an air of.... When you walk in through the industrial glass front door you are immediately greeted by a hostess. Her name used to be Crystal Laramore. There's a pay phone on the wall in case you need to call your wife and tell her your meeting is running late. (No cell phones back then).
If you're a non-smoker and want some privacy you'll be sitting in the front, right quadrant of the building. No telling how many no-tell dates dined in the front room. And, no telling how many business deals have been made in the back room.
If you're looking for a little more excitement and want to see who's dining with whom then you'll follow the hostess pass the "line" to the back room. Now this is where the action is! And the boss. You can always find Mike sitting on a barstool at the left end of the bar (if you're facing it) with a nice light setting his face aglow. His lovely wife, Melissa, is usually by his side. Although when I was there it was Eva...
The wait staff and bus boys have to pass Mike every time they put the dishes in the dish room. Mike sees it all. Mike could write a book. But good restaurant owners never do. It's an unwritten rule to not write. And everyone seems to know it. Just look around any great restaurant and you'll know that the patrons know "What happens at ___________, stays at __________". As it should be.
Between the hours of 4 and 6 (or something like that) Mike would always lock the doors and get ready for the evening. I'm not sure what HE did during those hours but I adopted that trade. However, two hours just didn't seem like enough time to get anything accomplished. And if you're going to do something at all you should do it well. For years we were closed from 2-6pm. My staff and most of my customers knew 2-6pm was nap time and don't even think about...But, we are on a courthouse square and we turned away a lot of business during those hours so we had to adjust.
I've said all that to say this: Gus's must have planted a seed in me that took more than water to grow. Even though I was at Gus's some 20+ years ago I can still recall with great detail and clarity many events. Like when one lady had her 40th Birthday party. 40! Wow! That is soooooo old! How is she still walking upright??? OMG! (Of course OMG wasn't a coined phrase back then.) And there were other moments that we can't write about. Because now I'm a restaurant owner and I'm in on the gig.
Let me tell you the gig is fun, exciting, challenging, raw, fresh, frantic, satisfying, heartbreaking, sliding through home base kind of blood pumping thrilling! There is never a dull moment. It's not for the faint of heart. Several people have told me over the years that it takes a special person to own a restaurant. I say nothing a good Cabernet can't fix! It's edgy and exciting and I'm grateful I'm blessed enough to have worked at Gus's and had a seed planted.
But I recently discovered that the first seed was planted years earlier. Before I knew what even a pay phone was! Several years ago someone in my family said "Hmph. You're just like your Granny Jack. You own a restaurant on a courthouse square." I searched my feeble mind and I could not remember it. (I can barely remember to take my thyroid meds.) Then my sister and I got to chatting and it all came back to me, fuzzy but there. Isn't that something? My grandmother managed a restaurant on the courthouse square in Hills boro!
Thanks Granny Jack and thanks Mike.
Crystal’s Patio & Grille
Courthouse Square
Coldspring, TX
936.653.8282
crystalspatioandgrille.com
P.S. If all this chatter about Bar-B-Que has left your mouth waterin and your stomach hungry for some, check out
Ring of Fire BBQ
Hwy 150
Across from Frank’s Liquor in front of the Cowboy Church. They cooked all the BBQ for the Coldspring VFD Fundraiser and it was...
Yummmmmmmmmmm
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Dippity Do’s & Don’ts
by Crystal Laramore Lutz
For as far back as I can remember I’ve wanted to own a salon. My friend since we were babies, Cynthia Thibodeaux, just wanted to cut, color, perm, twist and tie hair; namely mine! We have pictures of ourselves donning some very fetching wigs, dancing a jig atop an early 70’s model Ford. Yes, the fabulous world of making people feel beautiful, pampered and spoiled always attracted us.
Salons are a special place, for women much more so than men, but even men can agree that you do tell your hairdresser things you would never tell …It’s like an unwritten rule that as soon as you sit in that leather and steel chair you just lose control of your senses. The boundaries between right and wrong just get a little hazy when that nice lady is massaging your head like nobody’s business; all the blood just rushes right up there at one time, right along with all your friends’ best-kept secrets.
Why, salons have forevah (say it like a suuuhthanah) been the watering hole for gossip-crazed individuals-and you know who you are (and we do too, because who’s been gossiping is another thing we gossip about)! The local herald has never been as caught up as the local beauty salon on who’s cheatin’ whom, who’s being true and who don’t even care anymore! When we’ve had a hard week we so look forward to dumping all that crazy data and we dump it at the salon. Mostly the chatter is harmless, mindless and is forgotten as soon as the next person sits downs and says “You’ll never guess who…”
We not only trust our stylist with our hair, we trust them with our secrets. And, our friends’ secrets too! They double as our beautician and our therapist. That’s what the tip is for…And if we are talking about Suzie and she’s next, we’ll never know it; discretion is as important as a good pair of scissors for a stylist.
Caution; True Story: Long ago and far away in the early 90’s Mona’s was my salon of choice. Mona, I believe, was from Egypt. Anyhoo, she discovered acrylic was a good thing to put on nails while working in a Dentist’s office. Poof. Rich. (Don’t hold me to the facts as I am a “creative” writer but for the sake of the story and facts and all…) Her first salon may have been in Dallas.
Mona’s beautiful daughter Jackie and her husband Tom owned/ran the salon in Houston. You could sit down, have a glass of champagne and have anything done to your body from washing your hair, having a massage right down to the pedicure. It was a great escape from Baker Hughes just a few blocks down the road! I was young, over-worked, underpaid, but never, ever under-indulged when I stepped thru the doors @ Mona’s Salon. My sanctuary was between Hillcroft and Fountainview for over a decade.
One day I was gladly giving Tom all of my hard-earned money and I noticed Tom had little beads of sweat on his forehead. Hmm. What’s wrong with you? “See that lady sitting in that chair waiting to get her nails done”? Yes. “See that lady sitting in that chair getting her nails done”? Yes. She’s sleeping with her husband and I don’t know WHO booked them back to back”! Snicker. So apparently everyone in the salon knew, kept it on the down-low, and the only two people in the salon who didn’t know (besides the clients) were the two getting pampered. And guess who paid for both pampering sessions…
Another time I was getting my nails all filled-in and the woman in front of me (all the clients faced one direction and all the technicians faced the other direction) was bragging on sleeping with one of the Houston Rockets players (yes, I know who, but in keeping with the discretion theme…) She was “hooking up with him again tonight after the game”. Tee hee hee”. No, she didn’t care he was married. And on and on she went bragging about details she wanted us all to hear. Then, just like that, the woman in front of her got up to leave, paused slightly by the cheater-chick, bent down and whispered, just loud enough for us to hear (she was facing me!), “When you see my husband tonight, please tell him I said hello”. She then gracefully paid her bill with his credit card. Oops. To hear a pin drop in a salon is quite a feat and she accomplished it! And over behind the counter you could see Tom, little beads of sweat…
We each feel like our stylist is our best buddy for 2-3 hours every six weeks. And they are; who else among your friends knows and keeps as many secrets as your stylist? And even though it’s only about every six weeks that we see them, it’s like no time has passed once her hands are producing a rich, thick lather on our scalp! “How’s fluffy? How’s the new job? How’s the new baby”. It’s mostly all about us and isn’t that just the way we like it?
Mostly. I said mostly. Whatever is going on in salons today has to stop! The last few times I’ve been to a salon (3 different ones) all I’ve heard about is their problems! Their economic crisis, their financial portfolio; are you kidding me? My stylist has a financial portfolio???? What is happening?
One stylist was yapping on and on about her husband and how she just didn’t know what to do? Personally, I thought she should shut-up and talk about her woes on her time. After all, I was the one in the chair, not her! The rules clearly state that the one in the chair gets to talk. The one standing up working gets to listen, nod and exclaim on cue, ”Really”. Hello! TIP!!!
This economic fuzzy stuff we are going through is affecting more than we know. The long-term effects could be devastating. If my stylists are turning on me, who’s next? My doctor? My lawyer? My maintenance man? “Why would I care if your blades are dull on your lawnmower??? What? YOU have a financial portfolio too?”
Salons are not like spas where no one speaks for fear of cracking a mask. No, salons are busy and loud, except on those rare occasions when the wrong two women are in the right two chairs... Anyway, salon air is full of a mixture of fragrances ranging from L’Oreal products, perm solution, bleach, and acrylics but, mostly the air is full of secrets. Our secrets. Our friend’s secrets. The salon is like a vault; you don’t get to go in there very often so once you are in, the time is treasured. We hear enough about the economic crisis from our great leader. We study the economy on a daily basis and watch the DOW and read the Wall-Street Journal. We listen to Fox News, MSNBC, CNBC…So, when we sit in your chair please let us go on with our mindless chatter about who’s cheatin’ who, who’s being true and who don’t even care anymore!
After a beautiful daughter and an ugly divorce Cindy decided to make our big dreams come true and has made a big splash in the world of hair. She can be found keeping the best of secrets and cutting the best of hair at Studio 3 on University Blvd. in Houston, Texas. She can also be found NOT talking about her financial portfolio-and yes SHE has one too!
For as far back as I can remember I’ve wanted to own a salon. My friend since we were babies, Cynthia Thibodeaux, just wanted to cut, color, perm, twist and tie hair; namely mine! We have pictures of ourselves donning some very fetching wigs, dancing a jig atop an early 70’s model Ford. Yes, the fabulous world of making people feel beautiful, pampered and spoiled always attracted us.
Salons are a special place, for women much more so than men, but even men can agree that you do tell your hairdresser things you would never tell …It’s like an unwritten rule that as soon as you sit in that leather and steel chair you just lose control of your senses. The boundaries between right and wrong just get a little hazy when that nice lady is massaging your head like nobody’s business; all the blood just rushes right up there at one time, right along with all your friends’ best-kept secrets.
Why, salons have forevah (say it like a suuuhthanah) been the watering hole for gossip-crazed individuals-and you know who you are (and we do too, because who’s been gossiping is another thing we gossip about)! The local herald has never been as caught up as the local beauty salon on who’s cheatin’ whom, who’s being true and who don’t even care anymore! When we’ve had a hard week we so look forward to dumping all that crazy data and we dump it at the salon. Mostly the chatter is harmless, mindless and is forgotten as soon as the next person sits downs and says “You’ll never guess who…”
We not only trust our stylist with our hair, we trust them with our secrets. And, our friends’ secrets too! They double as our beautician and our therapist. That’s what the tip is for…And if we are talking about Suzie and she’s next, we’ll never know it; discretion is as important as a good pair of scissors for a stylist.
Caution; True Story: Long ago and far away in the early 90’s Mona’s was my salon of choice. Mona, I believe, was from Egypt. Anyhoo, she discovered acrylic was a good thing to put on nails while working in a Dentist’s office. Poof. Rich. (Don’t hold me to the facts as I am a “creative” writer but for the sake of the story and facts and all…) Her first salon may have been in Dallas.
Mona’s beautiful daughter Jackie and her husband Tom owned/ran the salon in Houston. You could sit down, have a glass of champagne and have anything done to your body from washing your hair, having a massage right down to the pedicure. It was a great escape from Baker Hughes just a few blocks down the road! I was young, over-worked, underpaid, but never, ever under-indulged when I stepped thru the doors @ Mona’s Salon. My sanctuary was between Hillcroft and Fountainview for over a decade.
One day I was gladly giving Tom all of my hard-earned money and I noticed Tom had little beads of sweat on his forehead. Hmm. What’s wrong with you? “See that lady sitting in that chair waiting to get her nails done”? Yes. “See that lady sitting in that chair getting her nails done”? Yes. She’s sleeping with her husband and I don’t know WHO booked them back to back”! Snicker. So apparently everyone in the salon knew, kept it on the down-low, and the only two people in the salon who didn’t know (besides the clients) were the two getting pampered. And guess who paid for both pampering sessions…
Another time I was getting my nails all filled-in and the woman in front of me (all the clients faced one direction and all the technicians faced the other direction) was bragging on sleeping with one of the Houston Rockets players (yes, I know who, but in keeping with the discretion theme…) She was “hooking up with him again tonight after the game”. Tee hee hee”. No, she didn’t care he was married. And on and on she went bragging about details she wanted us all to hear. Then, just like that, the woman in front of her got up to leave, paused slightly by the cheater-chick, bent down and whispered, just loud enough for us to hear (she was facing me!), “When you see my husband tonight, please tell him I said hello”. She then gracefully paid her bill with his credit card. Oops. To hear a pin drop in a salon is quite a feat and she accomplished it! And over behind the counter you could see Tom, little beads of sweat…
We each feel like our stylist is our best buddy for 2-3 hours every six weeks. And they are; who else among your friends knows and keeps as many secrets as your stylist? And even though it’s only about every six weeks that we see them, it’s like no time has passed once her hands are producing a rich, thick lather on our scalp! “How’s fluffy? How’s the new job? How’s the new baby”. It’s mostly all about us and isn’t that just the way we like it?
Mostly. I said mostly. Whatever is going on in salons today has to stop! The last few times I’ve been to a salon (3 different ones) all I’ve heard about is their problems! Their economic crisis, their financial portfolio; are you kidding me? My stylist has a financial portfolio???? What is happening?
One stylist was yapping on and on about her husband and how she just didn’t know what to do? Personally, I thought she should shut-up and talk about her woes on her time. After all, I was the one in the chair, not her! The rules clearly state that the one in the chair gets to talk. The one standing up working gets to listen, nod and exclaim on cue, ”Really”. Hello! TIP!!!
This economic fuzzy stuff we are going through is affecting more than we know. The long-term effects could be devastating. If my stylists are turning on me, who’s next? My doctor? My lawyer? My maintenance man? “Why would I care if your blades are dull on your lawnmower??? What? YOU have a financial portfolio too?”
Salons are not like spas where no one speaks for fear of cracking a mask. No, salons are busy and loud, except on those rare occasions when the wrong two women are in the right two chairs... Anyway, salon air is full of a mixture of fragrances ranging from L’Oreal products, perm solution, bleach, and acrylics but, mostly the air is full of secrets. Our secrets. Our friend’s secrets. The salon is like a vault; you don’t get to go in there very often so once you are in, the time is treasured. We hear enough about the economic crisis from our great leader. We study the economy on a daily basis and watch the DOW and read the Wall-Street Journal. We listen to Fox News, MSNBC, CNBC…So, when we sit in your chair please let us go on with our mindless chatter about who’s cheatin’ who, who’s being true and who don’t even care anymore!
After a beautiful daughter and an ugly divorce Cindy decided to make our big dreams come true and has made a big splash in the world of hair. She can be found keeping the best of secrets and cutting the best of hair at Studio 3 on University Blvd. in Houston, Texas. She can also be found NOT talking about her financial portfolio-and yes SHE has one too!
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