Mondays are for the circle of relatives in the life of the Phoenix boss, Carlos Díaz.
Díaz is the right-hand man of chef and restaurateur Doug Robson, and has spent the more than 10 years in the bustling kitchens of Robson’s two restaurants, Gallo Blanco and Otro Café. After all this time, her core still swells with each and every compliment on a cheery dinner.
At the end of the day, Diaz boils down his task description to this: Feed the People and Feed the People Well.
But on Monday, the day off, there is only one table Diaz tries to serve: the one at which his wife and six young men at their home in Tolleson.
His circle of relatives feels like a foothold as he and his colleagues watch what is arguably the biggest public health crisis of their lives.
In Mexico, his grandmother and aunt awoke his interest in cooking. Now, in Arizona, his wife and children offer him intellectual help as he works through the pandemic.
“If my work doesn’t go well, it will be reflected in my family circle because I’m going to be under pressure and thinking about having dinner,” Diaz said. “When I play with my children, when I bike with my son, when I take them to the lake, this time I spend with them is like recharging the battery to keep going. “
While Gallo Blanco is closed indefinitely, Another Café is open to take out, having closed and opened the pandemic several times. The menu has been narrowed down to bring out what works most productively. Despite the uncertainties of what the next day might bring, he and the kitchen staff quietly continue to do what they did before COVID-19: offer food ready from scratch, using ingredients from local farms.
“It’s complicated because obviously we need to keep working,” Diaz said. “It’s hard to close and pay to manage all the inventory, not waste food and let other people keep working.
Díaz applied as a chef at the historic Clarendon Hotel when Robson presented him with an assignment at his next company, Gallo Blanco, a cool Mexican restaurant that opened inside the hotel in 2009.
His upbringing in central Mexico, Robson in Mexico City and Díaz in León, made it easy for Díaz to perceive Robson’s culinary influences and paintings together, he said.
In León, Díaz learned to cook by helping his grandmother, Ana María. He used to get into his settings and practice his mole on the stove, one of his favorite dishes. When Ana María became ill and began to lose sight in one eye, Díaz took the initiative in the kitchen after school.
That’s why he’s the favorite grandson, Diaz joked. He still talks to Ana María several times a week on the phone, checking on the pandemic. More than 52,000 people in Mexico have died from COVID-19, so their physical condition is on their mind, he said.
His aunt, whom he calls his Tia Nana, also gave him insight into the paintings related to running a restaurant. Díaz hung out in his aunt’s cafe near his grandmother’s house, where each and every night Díaz’s uncle cooked nixtamal and in the morning Tía Nana filled quesadillas with other fillings, such as picadillo, desebrada, egg and green chili.
Its consistency fascinated him and motivated him to paint in the same way when he himself worked in restaurants, Diaz said.
“All the hard paints and determination that he put into the kitchen every day,” Diaz said. “It’s really difficult to paint, fix and prepare for the next day. It’s like a painting device. “
On a typical day, Executive Chef Díaz arrives at Café Otro and verifies that the chefs have everything they want to prepare for dinner service. She tests food in the kitchen to make sure recipes are executed correctly, she runs the display, the role of a go-between between the kitchen and customers, and in pre-pandemic times, she “knocked the tables” to check the tables. clientele. With the eating place closed, you are helping to pack food for curbside pickup.
Meanwhile, the lamps remain unlit at Gallo Blanco near downtown Phoenix. The dining venue reopened after Gov. Doug Ducey reopened dining rooms in May, but closed in July as COVID-19 cases spiked in Arizona.
“We made the decision to close Gallo for longer because the center is a ghost town,” Diaz said. “There is no one for all the local restaurants. The other people who paint in the workplace are at home now. There are no concerts. Actually, it is unhappy to see downtown right now. “
With six children, Díaz said she had to keep running to pay her bills and stock up. It would be stressful if he caught the coronavirus and had to self-quarantine away from his wife and children.
But he also sees his paintings as a link in the food chain, from farm to restaurant.
“Being in the place to eat business is risky,” Diaz said. “You interact with other people. Even though we only get out, you interact with a lot of other people. Some other people are scared. I’m not scared, but I take great care with the team. “
You can’t wait to get back to some of the more rewarding facets of your job on and off the dining venue: hosting weekly specials, teaming up with other chefs and waiters for dinner parties, and going to schools to teach kids about food. .
Díaz also sees this break as an opportunity, perhaps, for the place to eat to return.
“I need all my chefs and, not just the chefs, all the staff of the places to eat to have a better quality of life,” said Diaz. “Obviously, working in the dining room business is not easy to paint. I hope other people can find a balance between running and finding time with their families. I hope catering in general can get a little more out of this.
Contact the reporter at Priscilla. Totiya@azcentral. com. Follow @priscillatotiya on Twitter and Instagram.
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