Tabla through my eyes

I am sad to say that my once favorite NYC restaurant is now closed.  Tabla had a magnificent twelve year run, and I am lucky enough to once call it my home away from home for 3 ½ years.  This restaurant shaped me into the chef I am today, and I’d like to share my story. 

The years leading up to Tabla…

When I was a young cook starting out in this industry I had no desire to work in NYC.  Through school I did my externship at a very well known two star NYC restaurant, which shall remain unnamed.  Externs in general are picked on at all restaurants.  Coming straight out of school they learn very quickly that they do not know everything, it is very easy to make mistakes, and it takes a lot of hard work, dedication, and patience to make it in this industry.  

I was so anxious to be in a professional kitchen for the first time, but that feeling quickly turned into disgust.  As the three months of unpaid work progressed, I learned that all these cooks were just drones.  None of them had any fire in them, no desire to be there.  There was a lack of teamwork.  They were always angry, and obviously took it out on the new guy. 

Luckily, the two chef de cuisines realized my potential and hired me after my three month externship.  I was ecstatic to have found a job in what many people considered to be a great restaurant, regardless of what I thought of my coworkers.  That all changed when I quit three weeks later. 

After two weeks of full time work, I never received my first paycheck.  One of the chefs told me there was most likely a glitch in the computer system and promised I would receive two paychecks the following week.  As the third week ended, the problem persisted.  This time I decided to talk to the other chef, who informed me he had no idea that I was not receiving my paychecks.  He then gave me the cold shoulder, and told me to come back and talk to him the following day.  I was so angry, so hurt, so confused about the communication between upper management.  I remember I went home that night, and I never returned again. 

Was this what it was like to work in a top restaurant in NY? 

The entire experience had scarred me for a few months from returning to restaurants.  It wasn’t until five months later that I returned to a professional kitchen.  I spent that summer working as a concessions manager for a concert venue in New Jersey.  As much fun as I had with my new job, the fact that I was no longer cooking started to take a toll on me.  While doing concessional work at night, I spent the days working with whom many considered to be one of the best chefs in New Jersey, and his name was Bruce. 

After losing one of his cooks, Bruce decided to give me a shot and employed me full time.  I loved everything about his kitchen, and finally saw something I never saw while working in NY, smiling coworkers.  Everyone I worked with was so happy, and Bruce had a lot of passion for what he did.  Not to say he didn’t have the occasional outburst, having known to have a short fuse which resulted in a lot of cursing at the top of his lungs, and throwing sauté pans at the wall.  Regardless, I consider him to be my first mentor, and boy did I learn a lot from him. 

I remember there was one night Bruce and I were enjoying a beer together after work.  He asked me what my dreams were, and what I eventually saw myself doing.  Without hesitation, I told Bruce I had a strong desire to cook with Indian spices.  I realized very early on in culinary school that “American” food was lacking in flavor.  The first rice pilaf I ever made was so incredibly bland tasting to me.  It needed more, like black cumin and peas, the way my mother made rice while I was growing up.  Bruce then told me I should look into working at Tabla. 

The year was 2005, and although Tabla had been open for just over six years at that point, I never heard of it.  I went home that night and researched the restaurant.  Sadly, nothing about it was speaking to me, and like a hot headed young cook, tried to find everything wrong with it I probably could.  A risotto made with basmati rice?  Well that’s not very clever, I could have thought of that. 

A few months later after working every station in Bruce’s kitchen, it was time for me to move on.  My next move brought me into working for hotels, and I met two chefs that changed my career.  Executive Chef Sonny Samarosano, and Banquet Chef Neil Kariyakariwana.  To this day I still have trouble spelling his last name right.  Chef Neil was Indian in background, and I worked very closely with him over the next few months.  I became the hotel saucier, and Neil taught me everything he knew about sauce making.  The techniques that went into building flavors and balancing a sauce, getting consistency and colors correct, small and large batches, straining, cooling, storing, and even reheating correctly.  Neil trained my young palate, and soon I was able to pick up on flavors I never thought I would.  Sweet, spicy, bitter, salty, tangy, sour, and so forth.  Pinpointing where every flavor falls on your tongue, and the melody of when everything works in succession together.

Neil and I formed a pretty close relationship, and our conversations together made me learn that he shared the same desire about cooking that I did, to fuse Indian flavors with French technique.  By this time it seemed the name Tabla was popping up everywhere to me.  I first saw the restaurant on The Food Network, on an episode of Rachael Ray’s “$40 and under” based on New York City.  Rachael had done an entire segment on the two-floor Indian restaurant, and I distinctly remember the Indian chef behind the stove had made a burrito of some sorts, with Indian proteins and chutneys.  Rachael sat in the first floor dining room and went on and on about how great Tabla was.  Again, there was a part of me that was a little discouraged about what I saw.  An Indian burrito? Why would I travel into Manhattan to buy that?  For years I’ve been taking parathas (Indian stovetop flat breads), mixing various ingredients into them, and rolling them into burrito shapes at home. 

Over the months that followed Neil and I tested a lot of recipes together on slower days, and Chef Sonny had taken notice.   Sonny was incredibly talented, and one of the few chefs I know that can do ice carving.  He was a very quiet man, but whenever he spoke it was always to teach you a new technique.  I admired everything he taught me, because as I had learned he spent years perfecting his technique at some of the greatest NY restaurant institutions that ever existed, including The Rainbow Room, Windows on the World, and the legendary Lespinasse. 

Now closed, Lespinasse was a four star restaurant located in the St. Regis Hotel in Manhattan.  The man behind the stoves was Gray Kunz, and throughout the 1990’s received so much media attention for his asian-inspired cuisine.   He was considered to be a brilliant technician and a demanding perfectionist.  Sonny was lucky enough to spend time in this kitchen.  I was so happy to have learned I was learning from a chef that had such an incredible cooking background, and from that moment on, I soaked up everything like a sponge. 

After tasting some of the dishes Neil and I had put together, Sonny told me a story of a fellow cook he worked with at Lespinasse.  Sonny described him as a talented, young Indian cook.  His name was Floyd Cardoz, and he was now the Executive Chef of Tabla. 

I have been hearing of Tabla for some time at this point, but this was the first time I ever heard Chef Cardoz’ name.  Sonny told me how he and Floyd had formed a great relationship, and insisted I look into working at Tabla.  He even pulled me into his office and gave me Chef Cardoz’ direct line, and kept pushing that I give him a call.  I politely declined, having formulating my own ideas about the restaurant, as well as still having fear about working in NY again.  I eventually moved on, working in New Jersey again.  It wasn’t until a year later that I found that piece of paper that Chef Sonny had given me with Floyd Cardoz’ number on it, that I finally decided to give Tabla a shot. 

The first taste of Tabla…

I will never forget my first experience dining at Tabla.  It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon, and although I never made a reservation, decided to try Tabla for lunch.  I got off the 1/9 subway train and walked two blocks over to Madison Square Park.  I remember thinking how beautiful the neighborhood was.  At this time there was no Shake Shack and no Eataly.  There was just a small, gorgeous park in the middle of two busy streets that stood across from the amazing architecture of the Flatiron building.  I knew the restaurant was located on the corner of 25^th and Madison, but I quickly realized one thing, I had a hard time finding it. 

Tabla was located on one corner of the Credit Suisse building, and the building looked the same on every corner.  It wasn’t until I walked right up to it, and the blue and white sign hanging above the revolving door that said “Tabla” was finally seen.  Happy that I finally found it I walked through the revolving door and was amazed by how beautiful the restaurant was.  Walking into Tabla for the first time was like finding a hidden gem.  How could something that looked so inconspicuous from the outside possibly be this beautiful on the inside?  Everything from the floor mat that had Tablas’s colors etched into it, to the shiny tables of the Bread Bar, the open kitchen where I saw Ross and Sushmit for the first time, and the beautiful wooden staircase with the metal rails.  I also remember my first thought of sheer panic, wondering “was this place even in my budget?”

I approached the hostess stand, and the former General Manager Tracy had greeted me nicely.  I told her I was interested in getting a table for one, and after being asked if I preferred Tabla or the Bread Bar, I said I’d leave it up to her.  She then led me up the wooden staircase, to the gorgeous dining room upstairs, with tan tablecloths covering every table, pristine wine glasses, perfectly folded napkins, and silverware.  Although I wasn’t crazy about the mosaics and green walls, I hardly paid attention to them.  I was seated at one of the best tables in the room, table 33, right by the railing which overlooked tables downstairs in the Bread Bar, and which also had an amazing view of the park. 

I remember looking out into the park when I was approached by my server.  “Excellent day to be watching the park isn’t it?”  Her name was Jeanne, and she greeted me with such a warm smile.  She, like the rest of the upstairs FOH staff, was dressed in this deep blue uniform which had the Tabla logo colors on her collar.  I quickly took notice by how professional this made everyone look.  Jeanne handed me the lunch and wine menus, and after learning this was my first time dining at the restaurant, walked me through them.  There were two lunch prix-fixe menus, priced at $25 and $29 at the time, as well as the option to order a la carte.  Being a poor, young cook I decided to opt for the $25 three-course menu, and a pomegranate gimlet.  In just a few moments my professional career was changed forever.

The gimlet arrived first, in a four inch glass with a black straw that was completely offset by the gorgeous red of the cocktail, garnished with fresh pomegranate seeds and a slice of lime.  To this day it is still one of the best cocktails I have ever had.   Then came the pumpkin rasam.  It was such a great presentation.  The soup was in a beautiful green rimmed bowl, which was placed on another green rimmed plate.  I noticed the whole red mustard seeds and the perfect chiffonade of herbs.  I took my first sip…and I was hooked. 

I had never tasted anything like it.  There were so many flavors going on, but yet everything worked together beautifully.  The sweetness of pumpkin, the sourness of tamarind, the bright pop of the mustard.  The soup was doing a dance on my palate.  This was everything I was searching for the past few years.  Why was I holding out for so long?  Jeanne was amazed by how quickly I finished the soup, and I almost asked her for another bowl of it, but I decided to await the second course instead. 

Soon after my first course arrived a piece of perfectly round, glistening naan was dropped on my table.  It was sitting on top of a clean folded white napkin, on top of a small silver plate with gold handles.  After tasting it I remember thinking it wasn’t the best naan I ever had, but it was done very well. 

My second course consisted of a seared flank steak, with Indian spiced sautéed onions, and a fried potato cake which was specked with kalonji.  Kalonji is my favorite spice, and I was excited to see it on my plate.  The potato cake was the first thing I cut into, and it was perfectly seasoned and crisp.  The onions transported me back to a time when I was younger, and though I thought the steak needed a little something extra, altogether the plate worked well. 

After I finished my second course a busser had come and cleared my plates, and Jeanne had crumbed my tablecloth and reset my silverware.  Normally I wouldn’t waste my time mentioning that, but it was what she placed in front of me which surprised me.  It was a grapefruit spoon, with the ridged edges.  Why was this on my table? 

The last course was a vanilla bean kulfi, garnished with a small piece of gold leaf.  The kulfi was shaped like an upside-down cone, the same shape you see overcooked jasmine rice packed into in gimmicky Thai restaurants.  I quickly realized what the spoon was for, as the kulfi was incredibly hard to cut into.  Very good, but very hard to eat at first until it softens. 

I concluded my meal with a cappuccino, and as I looked out into the park I thought to myself, that was easily one of the best meals I have ever had. 

I had dined at Tabla five more times after that Tuesday afternoon in the next few months.  Though I can’t remember all the meals I had, I don’t recall any of them being sub-par either.  However, I do remember being seated at a table overlooking the oculus in the middle of the upstairs dining room.  This gave me a chance to peek at the Bread Bar kitchen downstairs.  I will never forget seeing Ross, with his long hair packed into a brown skull cap, constantly yelling at Sushmit every other minute.  I could tell Ross was telling him to work faster, and Sushmit kept throwing up his hands as if saying “I am”.  It wasn’t until about 20 minutes later that I realized something else about the small kitchen.  It was just so…clean.

Trying to get hired…

The hotel I was working for in New Jersey was becoming unionized, and so it was my time to move on again.  By now I knew exactly where I wanted to make my next move, and that was Tabla.  Using my roommate’s computer I went to their website, and printed out a job application. 

Tablas application was two pages, which included a handful of questions on the second page asking things like “Why do you want to work for Tabla?”, “What was the best meal you’ve ever had?”, and so forth.  I wanted to get noticed so badly.  I put my heart into that application.  I didn’t want them to see me as some cook from New Jersey, I wanted to stand out.  I decided to type out the application, complete with Chef Sonny as a reference, and answered every question essay style.  By the time I finished it, it was nine pages long.   I then put it into an envelope, addressed it to Chef Cardoz, and made a reservation for lunch at Tabla the next day. 

I had butterflies in my stomach the whole lunch.  After it was over, I spoke to the FOH manager at the time, Brandon, and asked if he would be kind enough to give Chef Cardoz my letter.  A few minutes later I saw Chef Cardoz for the very first time.  He had popped into the dining room and after scanning the room for a minute, quickly turned and walked the other way. 

A part of me honestly thought I would hear from the restaurant within a day or two, but I never did.  I started to lose hope, and realized it maybe just wasn’t my time to come back to NY.  It wasn’t until a week later I got my first call from Tabla’s Chef de Cuisine Ty Kotz. 

I remember the first conversation I ever had with Ty.  He told me over the phone that he couldn’t believe someone would go through so much trouble writing an extensive application, and then never get back to him.  Thrown off by the comment a little, I told him I was expecting a call from him, not for me to follow up on my own.  He then told me he tried emailing me twice.  At that moment I wished I never put my email address on my resume because I never checked it regularly (I didn’t own a computer).  Being in midtown Manhattan at the time, it was just 15 minutes and a cab ride later that I sat down with him and Chef Cardoz for an interview.

The interview went very well from what I remember, and I do recall both Ty and Cardoz making quick judgments about me just from my resume.  I’ll never forget when Cardoz told me “I’ve worked in hotels too.  You’re going to have to learn a lot more discipline.”  I always thought it was odd to say that to someone whom you’ve never seen cook.  But I was so amped up that I was able to set up a kitchen trail.

I was speechless when I walked into the upstairs kitchen for the very first time.  I don’t know why I was expecting a small kitchen, maybe because that’s what the Bread Bar kitchen was, but this kitchen was huge.  And on top of being huge, it was clean and organized.  The shining silver of the tables, the wooden cutting boards, the overhanging heat lamps of the pass, hanging pots, French style set-up, clean and groomed cooks, and spacious.  Having worked in hotels I’ve worked in a lot of large kitchens, but this took it to another level.  I never would have expected to see four different walk-ins and a hotel style braiser in a restaurant kitchen before.  

I set up next to the Fish Veg station, and I was helping a cook named Lauren.  The first task she gave me was the dice pumpkin for the pumpkin rasam garnish.  Having a lot of confidence in my knife skills I banged out perfectly diced butternut squash.  While making his rounds Chef Cardoz peeked into the 9^th pan of squash, didn’t say a word, and just kept walking.  I looked at Lauren and asked “Is that a good sign?”.  She responded “If he doesn’t say anything, it’s a very good sign”.  Wow, this trail was going to be easy.  Then 12 free hours of labor later, I got the biggest smack in the face ever. 

I was living with my girlfriend at the time, and she was the hardest person in the world to wake up in the middle of the night.  There was not a single thing I could ever do or think of that would make her break her sleep.  I went home that night, and after about a half hour of sitting up in my bed, she in a half dead voice asked if I was alright.  Looking forward at the wall, responded to her question with “Ty told me he didn’t see my passion”. 

I have never seen that girl wake up so quickly.  We had worked together before, and she believed in me and my abilities, but after hearing what I had just told her she started screaming.  I was afraid she’d wake up my roommates at that point.  Neither of us could believe it.  I was asked to come in for a second trail five days later and I made sure I tore the walls down. 

One thing that stuck out during my second trail was when I was helping the garde manger cook, Chris Lin.  Chris had given me a recipe which I started working on on the back table.  As Ty was passing by I asked him where the robocoupe was.  Not answering my question Ty immediately walked over to Chris, and with me standing there asked “Chris you’re giving him things to do right?”.  “Yes Ty he’s working on some things for me right now.”  “Ok and you’re walking him through everything, right?”  “Yes I’m watching over every step.”  “Ok good, then you can also tell him where the robocoupe is.”   Wow, this guy must really hate me.  Asks me to come in twice and then doesn’t even talk to me.  Wouldn’t it have just been easier to say the robocoupe was around the corner?  Later on I didn’t give it a second thought, and although still hesitant, Ty decided to give me a shot and hire me.  My start date…the second week of winter restaurant week 2007.

A rollercoaster ride of emotions….

The first two days of training at Tabla with Lauren weren’t so bad, but it was my first day solo which really kicked my ass.  Winter restaurant week, 300 covers, extended service, my first time working in the city in 3 years, and a roast cook which intimidated the heck out of me.  His name was Alvaro.  Anyone that knew Alvaro knows he was a big giant teddy bear, but working next to him for the very first time was scary.  He was double my size, hardly spoke English, was incredibly fast for his size, and made a mistake maybe once a month.  He didn’t know enough English to carry on a conversation, so the most he would say to you in a deep voice was “Try this”, “Don’t do that”, “Work faster”.  Man, did this guy always talk like Robocop?

I was very organized setting up that station for the very first time.  Chris Robertson was the AM Sous at the time, and I went over my list and plan of attack with him.  Sadly, the morning didn’t go as planned, and took me longer to set up the station than I anticipated.  Damn lamb sandwich potatoes!

As service was drawing closer I remember Chef Cardoz coming into the kitchen and immediately walking straight to my station.  By this time I was spinning in circles, and I had 15 minutes left to be ready.  Though I can’t remember the fish dish it was for, one of the veg I was responsible for was cooking diced silk squash.  My PM partner, Ed, was nice enough to get it cut for me, and in the AM all I needed to do was sauté it with some aromatics and let it cool.  After checking over my station Cardoz immediately pulls out the silk squash, and having a LOT of trouble understanding his accent when I first met him, had a very difficult conversation with him.   “Did you cut this?”  Did he just ask me if I cut it, or cooked it?  Having thought he said “cook”, I responded “Yes, Chef”.  He then shakes his head and walks offline.  A minute later he comes back, sets up a cutting board right next to me, peels the silk squash and shows me how to cut it perfectly. 

In the beginning of my Tabla career there were three quotes I will never forget upper management telling me, and I was about to hear the first.  “This is a three star restaurant.  Everything has to be perfect!”  Sorry, Chef. 

The second happened the next day.  I had a lot of trouble cooking the upma with wild mushrooms dish.  My upma always came out too thick, and Chris kept sending it back to me to redo.  After like the 5^th time of screwing it up, he picked up the dish from the pass, slammed it down on my station, looked me in the eye and said “I don’t want you sending it to me unless it’s perfect!”.  Sorry, Chef.

My PM partner was hired the same day that I was, and my god was he terrible.  The PM crew was scheduled to come in at 3:30pm, and he would always walk into the kitchen at 1pm.  Ty told me early on that I would have to stay until the station is set up perfectly for dinner.  At first, upper management kept blaming me for the fact it was never set up by 5:30, saying I wasn’t multitasking enough.  By the end of the week, there was a night I was still there until 7:30pm, and Chef Cardoz rounded the corner and in amazement goes “Oh my god!  You’re still here??”  Embarrassed, I looked at him and nodded.  He then looks straight at me, and motioning with his arms goes “You need to hustle man!!”  ::sigh::  Sorry, Chef.  Ed quit three weeks later.

The next 15 months leading up to me becoming kitchen tournant had so many ups and downs.  There were so many good days, with great services, and then there were so many bad ones as well, where I just wanted to crawl into a hole afterwards and never come out.  I got compliments and got screamed at.  But there was a major thing I realized after becoming tournant, I could do things a hell of a lot more professionally, faster, and cleaner than when I first started. 

I am lucky to say I formed a close relationship with the management team over these months, especially Chef and Ty, who took me under their wings and helped me grow tremendously as a cook.  Not just throwing ingredients into a pan, but learning how to cook them properly, the timing, the seasoning, hustling, the outside forces that can effect your cooking, multitasking, teamwork, having standards, and overall just being a professional. 

Realizing my love for this kitchen…

It wasn’t until I left Tabla that I really started to appreciate everything I learned there.  I had spent a year working in Philadelphia, opening two of its currently premier restaurants, before returning to Tabla as a sous chef.  It wasn’t just the food, not the spacious kitchen, not my coworkers who shared a great bond of togetherness, not just the management team, or Chef Cardoz, but everything.  All the philosophies that Tabla shared.  The passion and respect for ingredients.  The way each and everyone was pushed to their own limits and realizing their potential.  The quality control.  The respect for the kitchen, and the insatiable respect for guests and how their experience was the only thing that mattered. 

When I started in Philadelphia I thought it was just a NY thing I was missing.  The atmosphere is a lot more laid back there.  But after a management team from one of NY’s top four star restaurants had come to Philadelphia to help us open the restaurant, I realized it wasn’t a NY thing I was missing, it was Tabla. 

Seeing the three chefs walk around in jeans and no aprons, the way no one seemed to mind if an ingredient fell on the floor, no sense of teamwork during service, a chef that cursed you out if you made the slightest mistake, and playing favoritism.  I did learn a lot here, but everything I learned was about how not to run a restaurant. 

I only spent four months at the first place before moving on to the next, and it was a great move on my part.  I was working with cooks that acted professionally again.  They actually cared about their stations, and the ingredients.  One thing they always shrugged at, though, was the guests.  The guest experience did not matter to them, they all had this type of selfishness and no one wanted to push themselves.  The FOH was never trained properly and orders would come in all at once.  They cut corners during busy times, and the chef did not understand two major words, quality control. 

I could go on and on about the reasons why I missed Tabla.  Needless to say I jumped at the chance to come back after Chef Cardoz had called me.  Funny thing, though, was that my current boss offered me a sous chef position and I told him I wanted to take a few days to think about it.  After Cardoz called me, well it just seemed like a no-brainer. 

I never want to give this up…

I was so happy to have come back to Tabla.  From the second I walked into the kitchen I felt home once again.  But after being thrown back into the stations after a year, I realized it was hard.  In fact it was REALLY hard to get back into the swing of things.  You don’t realize just how heavy the cooking pans at Tabla are until you stop holding them.  The rhythm of the stations, the flow of service, the constant multitasking, and watching other cooks.  After finally getting the hang of the stations, it did not get any easier. 

This job was not easy.  It was the hardest thing I have ever done.  But for the two years that followed I was able to finally find my own identity, and found I shared a lot of the same philosophies that my coworkers shared.  We cared.  We cared a lot.  And my learning was taken to a whole other level. 

It wasn’t just about ordering produce and about sending our receiver down to the greenmarket to pick up ingredients.  It was about showing and respecting the farmers, sourcing out the best ingredients for the best prices, asking them about sizes, bunches or loose, clean or dirty, buying the correct amounts so everything remains fresh, is it local, can we utilize stems, is it being rotated properly, do we need to make a special, factoring in labor, and making sure the staff didn’t take anything for granted. 

It wasn’t just ordering a piece of fish.  Where did it come from, on the bone or off, what size and how much are we going to need, what’s the best way to cut it so there’s no waste, what time will it arrive, do we have space to hold it, if there is waste how can we utilize it, what’s the best way to serve it, will it cook evenly, will it cook fast, utilizing skin or not, and do we need to ask the servers to push it?

It wasn’t just about ordering meat.  Are we going to buy a farm-raised animal, what’s the size, what’s its diet, are we cooking it whole or breaking it down, can we utilize the innards, can the butchers handle it, are we marinating it, are we brining it, are we aging it, are we smoking it, for how long, do we have the space to hold it, are we ordering enough for the week, how long will it take to cook, how can we present it, are we making charcuterie, fat on or off, and can we utilize bones for stock?

It’s not just about cooking the food.  Who’s coming in, can we cook anything special for them, are we sending an extra course, are we doing a midcourse, are we not doing anything at all, are they in a rush, do they want to be slowed down, do we have enough runners, do we need to change the menu, is the health department going to give us a violation for that, do we need to address the staff, can the kitchen handle the order of the tickets, can they keep up, do they need a push, do they need help, are they working as a team, are they communicating, do we have enough mise-en-place, are they cooking it properly, are they seasoning correctly, and will the food remain hot as it goes out?

It’s not just about seating people in the dining room.  Is it a special occasion, are they a guest of Chef, do they want extra attention or do they want to be left alone, do they want to speed up their courses, do they want to slow down, is the kitchen doing anything special for them, are we placing the correct silverware in front of them, are their water glasses full, are they hot, are they cold, are they giving me hints I should share with my coworkers, what are their preferences, are there any allergies, do they have any special requests, and are they enjoying their experience?

Some of you may think I have just went on and on, but these are the questions the Tabla management team faced on a daily basis.  These are the things I never thought about as a cook here.  These are the questions and philosophies Chef Cardoz and Ty had instilled in me.  This wasn’t just another restaurant to any of us, and none of us wanted to give it up.   

The end of an era….

It was not a secret to anyone that the restaurant needed to save on costs.  We had changed our entire menu format and cut labor.  Even when we thought we would never let this place close, we got the news that it was going to. 

It was a Wednesday morning, and I and some of the other managers were called in on our day off for an important meeting.  We all soon found out that Danny Meyer was joining us.  We had no idea what we were about to hear.  We all gathered at the round manager table in the right corner of the upstairs dining room.  Then at 9am, and without hesitation, Danny Meyer announced he was closing Tabla.  We were all floored. 

We soon found out that we didn’t do anything wrong, in fact we did everything correctly.  Our sales were up, we didn’t owe anyone money, we just saw with the way the economy was going there was a good chance we could have trouble down the line.  We were too big.  We weren’t able to fill 283 seats every night.  We wanted to leave while still on top, and we did so with pride. 

The next three months were particularly hard on everyone.   I couldn’t believe it.  Was this place really closing?  Was Chef Cardoz’ dream falling apart?  What about Ty who has been here for 10 years?  What about Chris who has been here for 7?  What about our beloved porter Daniel, and the mother of our kitchen, Maria, whom have been here for 12?  What’s going to happen to every person on this staff?  Is there another restaurant that even comes close to the food we serve with the integrity that we put into it?

The answer is no.  There isn’t.  And there never will be.  Tabla was the vision of Floyd Cardoz, and his passion touched on everything that was in his restaurant.  Not just on the menu, but on the local farmers, the purveyors, the kitchen, the dining room, the guests, and the staff.  He, Ty, and the assistant GM Kevin hand-picked every single person that worked there, and they did so perfectly.  Finding the right mix of people that work together not only worked well for a business point of view, but also outside the workplace too.  We were all a second family.  We spent more time with each other than we did with our loved ones.  We sacrificed our personal lives to serve our guests, because they came into our home. 

Though I didn’t spend as much time with the restaurant as some others, I want to personally thank every person I ever worked with there.  Thank you all for helping me grow professionally, and I look forward to spending more time with all of you in the future.  To Chef Cardoz and Ty, thank you for seeing something in me, and always pushing me to do better.  Your words and actions will stay with me for a long time.  To Chris, Dwayne, James, Logan, Ross, and all the other sous chefs I worked with, thanks for teaching me the ropes.  You’re all very talented, and I wish you luck with all your future restaurants.  And to the cooks, kitchen staff, and FOH staff, here’s to hoping we can one day re-open Tabla and work together once again. 

Tabla's closing management team after the last dinner service 12/30/10.  Pictured left to right: Sous Chef James Kim, Chef de Cuisine Ty Kotz, Sous Chef Dwayne Motley, Sous Chef Chris Robertson, Executive Chef Floyd Cardoz, former Sous Chef Ali, Sous Chef Zia Sheikh, and Pastry Chef Rachel Binder.  Not pictured: Pastry Sous Chef Carmine Arroyo.