Adopted into an Italian restaurant

Calzone was by far the best job I have ever, and will ever, have. Sure, I don’t exactly wish for a career in the serving industry, but the people and atmosphere in that place is incomparable to anything else I have ever experienced.  

The family-owned, Italian restaurant first opened up in 1995 by two men named Joe and Tony. Joe and Tony still work there today, along with their wives, children and the rest of their employees. I started working there in 2006, after hearing they were hiring through my brother who worked there as a delivery driver.

The reason I loved that job so much was not about the actual job itself. The reason was the family atmosphere. Even though I was not blood related to the owners, they treated me like I was. In a way, though, we were all related. Everyone who was hired had gotten the job through someone else who worked there. I got the job through my brother, who started because of my cousin. My friend Kayley started there because of her sister, who got the job through her best friend Tania, who is Tony’s daughter. The examples go on and on- you could pretty much draw a family tree at that restaurant.

Sunday shifts were my favourite. . We opened at 11 in the morning. It was a small restaurant, and about 75 percent of our orders on a Sunday were for either pick up or delivery. So, on a Sunday, there was only ever myself, Tony, and one driver until 5:00.

Inevitably we would all come in with coffee and bagels, and we would complete our morning tasks while telling stories about our Saturday nights. Tony, a man of 55 and a die hard rock and roll fan, loved hearing about what shenanigans the “young kids” got up to.

By about 2:00 the lunch rush was over and, unless the Grey Cup, Superbowl or some other significant sporting event was on, we would hit a lull until about 5:00. This is when Tony would cook up a feast for us- occasionally teaching me a thing or two- and we would sit down and watch whatever movie was on that day, interrupted only by one or two phone calls throughout the course of the afternoon. It was like the calm before the storm

Then the Sunday night dinner rush would hit. My friend Kayley and I worked Sunday nights together, taking turns answering phone calls and waiting tables. Both owners and their wives would be in the back cooking and the drivers were in and out with deliveries.