Chapter 24

The transition happened quickly. Daniel Archer informed Chef Russo of the leadership change. He offered him a position as sous chef at Osteria, another Arbor Group restaurant with an executive chef known for strong mentorship. Russo accepted with what seemed like relief—apparently the stress of the job had been weighing on him.

Matthew had a moment of pure panic when Archer called him to give him the go ahead. What the hell was he doing agreeing to do this? It was one thing to have a dream of running his own place. It was quite another to face the thought of doing it the next morning.

One step in front of another, he told himself. He took a deep breath and began implementing his and Loralee’s recovery plan for Trattoria Verde.

His first decision shut the place down for ten days to clean and repair. He made the call and started his new life.

He and Loralee arrived at 6 AM to oversee a small army of cleaning and maintenance professionals. Every surface would be addressed—floors stripped and resealed, walls repainted in the same warm colors, equipment deep-cleaned and repaired, ventilation systems thoroughly serviced.

“It’s not just about appearance,” Matthew explained to the kitchen staff, who had arrived early to help. “It’s about setting the standard for attention to detail in everything we do.”

Miguel, the pasta chef, nodded, understanding the message beneath the practical work. “Like Marco used to say—the care you show your space reflects the care you show your food.”

“Exactly,” Mathew confirmed, noting the reference to the founding chef with interest. “You worked with him from the beginning?”

“Three years,” Miguel said with evident pride. “He brought me from his previous restaurant, taught me everything about pasta. The place was different then, more like a big family.”

This theme—the lost sense of community and purpose—emerged repeatedly as other staff members arrived throughout the day to assist or simply observe the transformation. The physical renewal became a metaphor for the cultural reset they hoped to achieve.

While the professionals handled the major work, Mathew and Loralee focused on the kitchen’s organization. They had the staff empty all storage areas and deep-clean them. The next step was to organize things logically. The walk-ins were challenging. It had been a while since anyone had paid attention to sanitization. They established of clear zones for different ingredients, proper rotation protocols, and improved labeling.

“Isn’t this kinda over the top?” whispered the dishwasher to the appetizer cook who had worked with Loralee during their assessment.

Loralee overheard him. “Food safety is life or death. Seeing this mess, you guys were lucky. Let’s get this done before Matthew sees how bad it is. Besides, good organization means less thinking about where things are and more thinking about what you’re creating.”

By the third day, the physical transformation was remarkable. Equipment had been repaired or replaced, storage systems completely overhauled, and the entire space cleaned to a standard that hadn’t existed for months. The dining room received similar attention, with worn upholstery cleaned or replaced, lighting adjusted for better ambiance, and table settings upgraded with new linens and flatware while maintaining the warm, approachable aesthetic.

While the physical environment was being transformed, Mathew worked on the more complex process of review and restructuring the staff. He scheduled individual interviews with every employee—from line cooks to servers to dishwashers—creating space for honest conversation about their potential.

His message to the crew members was simple. “We’re going to create something special here. I just want to be assured that you want to help us.”

They converted the office into a comfortable meeting space, replacing Russo’s cluttered desk with a small round table that eliminated hierarchical barriers. The interviews, scheduled for thirty minutes but often running longer, revealed patterns that helped shape their approach to rebuilding the team.

Most kitchen staff possessed solid technical skills but had grown demoralized by inconsistent leadership. Front-of-house employees expressed frustration with communication breakdowns between kitchen and dining room, leading to service issues beyond their control. Almost everyone mentioned the loss of community that had characterized Trattoria Verde’s early days.

“Marco used to make us all eat together before service,” explained Teresa, a senior server who had been with the restaurant since opening. “Not just food in our mouths, but actual conversation about the menu, the guests, what we were trying to create together. That disappeared when he left.”

By the fifth day, the missing staffing needs had become clear. While most existing employees showed potential for rejuvenation under new leadership, two critical positions required external recruitment: a restaurant manager capable of rebuilding service culture, and a dedicated baker to elevate the bread and dessert program.

“I have someone in mind for manager,” Mathew told Archer during their daily update call. “A woman named Sofia Mendez. She was one of my classmates at ICE. She’s been working at Upland and has a natural gift for creating warm, genuine service environments.”

“Reach out,” Archer said. “The baker position might be trickier. Specialized skills, typically have higher salary requirements.”

“Actually,” Loralee interjected, having just entered the office with her interview notes, “I think the solution might be internal. Diane from the prep team mentioned she worked in a bakery for three years before coming here. Apparently she told Russo she could help with the bread program but was shut down.”

This pattern—overlooked talent within the existing team—had come out often in the interviews. The dishwasher who had valuable input on kitchen flow but had never been consulted. The young server studying restaurant management at ICE had ideas for improving the reservation system.

By the end of the first week, Matthew was feeling satisfied with their progress. Most of the current staff would stay. They all seemed energized by all the changes.

Sofia Mendez came the following day. She expressed immediate interest in their project. “I’ve been watching what you’ve been doing with the Sunday suppers at Hearth,” she told Mathew over the phone. “If you’re bringing that philosophy to Trattoria Verde, I want to be part of it.”

On the eighth day, they gathered everybody in the newly refreshed dining room.

“Trattoria Verde was founded on a beautiful idea,” Mathew began, standing alongside Loralee at the head of the communal table they had arranged for this meeting. “Somewhere along the way, this place lost its way. It happens the menu’s purpose get lost beneath tons of operational problems and lapsed leadership from the chef on down to the dishwasher.” He paused, making eye contact with various staff members. “We’re not here to impose some radical new concept. We’re here to help reconnect this restaurant to what made it special in the first place—and that requires all of us committing to shared standards.”

Loralee took over, her direct communication style complementing Mathew’s more measured approach. “In practical terms, that means three fundamental changes. First, consistent systems and standards—no more guesswork or varying quality depending who’s on the line. Second, we’re a team—kitchen and front-of-house need to work as one organism, not separate territories. Third, all of us need to take pride in our craft--no more bullshit sloppiness.”