This Saturday I found myself standing in several inches of liquid beef tallow. The fryer had overflowed at the Soda Fountain. There were five order tickets on the pass waiting to be filled. And there I was, wielding a squeegee, attempting to guide the wave of oil into a more appropriate location, whilst trying not to break my neck on the slippery floor and keeping the kitchen limping along. Needless to say, this was not on my …
November 4, 2026





