Staffing is a constant, ongoing issue in the small business world.
Getting
1. the right people to
2. do the job you want them to do
3. for the money you can afford to pay them
is a multi-factor nightmare.
At the moment in my shop I have five people employed who fulfill one of the three criteria. I would not be alone in finding it difficult to secure the best people, since they rarely present for the jobs I have to offer.
So I have invested considerable time in getting my staff up to speed, on food safety, operating procedures, company policy, customer service goals, minimum acceptable work levels. Some of this stuff is so obvious, I really do loathe having to tell my staff about it. I get embarrassed when someone has not noticed something obvious that requires their attention because IT'S THEIR JOB.
I have one staff member who has pushed and pushed for more hours and changed work circumstances, and got everything she's asked for. Today I found out that she has handed her resume to a casual staff member to get assistance in looking for other work.
This is the first real conundrum for me as an employer. When I was an employee jumping from job to job with no loyalty was all part of hospitality work. It was one of the privileges of having skills to sell. Now as an employer, having it done to me is really shocking. For a start this employee does not have skills to sell. The time I have spent training, the effort I have made to give her the work she asked for, relegating other staff so she can get her hours, I expected a bit of loyalty, but no. I don't get loyalty or commitment or anything but a FU behind my back. I'm hurt and annoyed.
How do I react? Currently I have a useful person doing a consistent job. I need this in my business right now. And so far as the future, I had plans to offer her the full hours she wanted and develop my business with her as part of that core team. I don't want to do this now. But perhaps she's going looking because she doesn't know what I may to offer her. Perhaps she simply doesn't like the job.
I have another staff member who is a consistent but sloppy worker, and who cannot change her behaviours or attitude, as much as I coach her, encourage her, put up with her. Her attitude is the pits. She often comments that customers are being difficult (asking for things we sell, for crying out loud!), and she sneers at people. I have made a huge effort to train all staff about our bread so they can speak knowledgeably when serving, but listening to her talk to customers, she doesn't care. At all. I tolerate this because she turns up every day at 7am, 5 days a week and I need this in my business, because it's something I cannot do. Presently I'm desperately trying to find a way for her to exit the business. I'm sure she has no idea about this. So she will eventually feel betrayed for her loyalty, once she is aware of our plans.
Some of my problems are about communication. I am absolutely not good about confronting people in the moment or after a problem has passed, or taking people aside for a talk, pointing out failures, doing any of that 'one minute manager' stuff. And I need to, because putting up with the mediocre is costing me time, wages and the end result is my customers are affected, so my business is affected.
I often think about how I feel when people I know come into my shop. Mostly I'm embarrassed about the run down, dusty way it often looks, the grotty plates on display, the smeary glass and badly displayed (divinely delicious) bakery items. NO WAY should I feel like this, when I pay people to sort out these things. Shiny, clean glass, beautifully displayed food, with the correct name and price on them and happy, happy service is all we have going for us, and some days we do even have that...
These staff have gotta go.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
stuff going slow
Yesterday we went on a day trip to visit some friends in Romsey. It's great going there, so close but far enough out of town that you feel like you're in the bush. And you can smell the paddocks and mountains, not cars and traffic. You can even hear any cars and traffic. It rained the whole way there, which was pure joy.
These friends are chefs, and a visit there always involves a lovely eating experience. For those of you who are not chefs, this does not mean we get a multi course degustation, matched to wine. In my experience when chefs cook for chefs, the smart ones go simple, fresh and use the best. It's the best way to cook anyway and leaves you plenty of time to chat and gossip. We had braised chicken and rice followed by a tomato and cucumber salad with some amazing, creamy feta that turned this simple dish into a luxurious lunch finale.
Well, lunch was being prepared when we got there and from a cupboard appeared something I haven't seen in ages- a pressure cooker. Saucepan style, handles that clip together and a little steam whistler on top. My children and I perched at the end of the kitchen bench watching that contraption whistle like a train, mesmerised. Lest it be said that our braised chicken was ready within the hour, tender and bone meltingly sweet and soft.
I decided right then that I have been stupid all this time, and I'm gettin' me a pressure cooker. Stuff your slow braised, 8 hour, overnight anything. The environmental impact of running the oven on 70 degrees for 12 hours for your pork belly or even just running the electric slow cooker overnight ..well, it flies in the face of current energy consumption directives.
That aside, the major factor influencing my home cooking currently is time. Most days I have less than 20 minutes to get a meal on the table and I rarely have the energy to get organised the night before. If I eat pasta more than once a fortnight I go spare, it's never enough of a meal for me, I actually get why Italians have it as an entree. A baby in the house means stir fry is off the menu for a while (regardless of what the baby books say about finger foods, crunchy veg and the joys of mopping noodles off the floor, I'm not doing it.)
But with a miraculous pressure cooker, I can have my usual go-to dishes, faster. Braised chicken and lentils, lamb and potatoes, even bean soups are go. And when I've run out of ideas, I'll just cruise the cookbook section of the op shop. Once I've picked through the microwave cooking and the 'Taste for Life' anthologies, I can see some gems being unearthed there. Can I do creamed rice in it? Wouldn't that take like, 4 minutes? Imagine how fast I could get a bolognese out of there, for sure. Gosh, I could throw together the meat sauce at the same time as the bechamel and have lasagne ready in an hour. That could save my marriage.
Hold me back, I'm off shopping....
These friends are chefs, and a visit there always involves a lovely eating experience. For those of you who are not chefs, this does not mean we get a multi course degustation, matched to wine. In my experience when chefs cook for chefs, the smart ones go simple, fresh and use the best. It's the best way to cook anyway and leaves you plenty of time to chat and gossip. We had braised chicken and rice followed by a tomato and cucumber salad with some amazing, creamy feta that turned this simple dish into a luxurious lunch finale.
Well, lunch was being prepared when we got there and from a cupboard appeared something I haven't seen in ages- a pressure cooker. Saucepan style, handles that clip together and a little steam whistler on top. My children and I perched at the end of the kitchen bench watching that contraption whistle like a train, mesmerised. Lest it be said that our braised chicken was ready within the hour, tender and bone meltingly sweet and soft.
I decided right then that I have been stupid all this time, and I'm gettin' me a pressure cooker. Stuff your slow braised, 8 hour, overnight anything. The environmental impact of running the oven on 70 degrees for 12 hours for your pork belly or even just running the electric slow cooker overnight ..well, it flies in the face of current energy consumption directives.
That aside, the major factor influencing my home cooking currently is time. Most days I have less than 20 minutes to get a meal on the table and I rarely have the energy to get organised the night before. If I eat pasta more than once a fortnight I go spare, it's never enough of a meal for me, I actually get why Italians have it as an entree. A baby in the house means stir fry is off the menu for a while (regardless of what the baby books say about finger foods, crunchy veg and the joys of mopping noodles off the floor, I'm not doing it.)
But with a miraculous pressure cooker, I can have my usual go-to dishes, faster. Braised chicken and lentils, lamb and potatoes, even bean soups are go. And when I've run out of ideas, I'll just cruise the cookbook section of the op shop. Once I've picked through the microwave cooking and the 'Taste for Life' anthologies, I can see some gems being unearthed there. Can I do creamed rice in it? Wouldn't that take like, 4 minutes? Imagine how fast I could get a bolognese out of there, for sure. Gosh, I could throw together the meat sauce at the same time as the bechamel and have lasagne ready in an hour. That could save my marriage.
Hold me back, I'm off shopping....
Friday, November 20, 2009
Hello. In the spirit on NOBLOPOMO (blogger challenge month to post every day) I thought I'd head over here and give a bit back. Reading other stories all the time feels so take, take, take.
To catch up those wondering what's been happening, I am flat out being the baker's wife at the moment, and for the past months. Our staffing crisis has not been averted and so I find myself doing a whole lot more than what I'd ever intended. Anyone with Human Resources advice better than 'make up a manual and give them warnings' feel free to drop a line...

Lucien turned one in October, which was the highlight of the month. My russian shop hand made his cake, a magnificent creation called a 'russian honey cake'. It was layers of ginger/honey biscuit sandwiched with sour cream and walnuts in layers, like a chocolate ripple cake the size of a plate. It was beautiful. Lu was especially impressed and stuck his long baby finger straight into the creamy mass, ignoring the candle, which Gabriel was trying to blow out from two metres away. Which means he was spitting on it cake from a distance. Wonderful.
Our vege garden is going gangbusters, thanks to that fantastic rain, and even today enough of a spattering to stop me having to water it. Gabs is so proud, he walks along and names all the veges and is constantly sticking things in the soil telling me it's 'to keep the mozzies away from our vegies,'.
So that's our brief update. I'll be back here sooner than last time I hope, but no promises.
To catch up those wondering what's been happening, I am flat out being the baker's wife at the moment, and for the past months. Our staffing crisis has not been averted and so I find myself doing a whole lot more than what I'd ever intended. Anyone with Human Resources advice better than 'make up a manual and give them warnings' feel free to drop a line...
Lucien turned one in October, which was the highlight of the month. My russian shop hand made his cake, a magnificent creation called a 'russian honey cake'. It was layers of ginger/honey biscuit sandwiched with sour cream and walnuts in layers, like a chocolate ripple cake the size of a plate. It was beautiful. Lu was especially impressed and stuck his long baby finger straight into the creamy mass, ignoring the candle, which Gabriel was trying to blow out from two metres away. Which means he was spitting on it cake from a distance. Wonderful.
Our vege garden is going gangbusters, thanks to that fantastic rain, and even today enough of a spattering to stop me having to water it. Gabs is so proud, he walks along and names all the veges and is constantly sticking things in the soil telling me it's 'to keep the mozzies away from our vegies,'.
So that's our brief update. I'll be back here sooner than last time I hope, but no promises.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Wow, I didn't realise I'd dropped off the radar for that long.
This all consuming life of small business and children continues to swallow us up. But things are improving. We are almost fully staffed in the bakery now, and everyone seems to be chugging along happily.
We took a week to do some maintenance and recover ourselves before the next big onslaught. A well deserved break away from thinking non-stop about our business. But now there is fall out about that time away. I'm dealing with customers who may be lost, who were angry about not being able to get bread for a week and want us to know it. Even though I gave them notice, verbal and written.
Will I always be a slave to these customers? When will I be master of my own destiny? Is this the capitalist punishment? Subject to the whims of the market and forever on edge? Feeling like we could never close again for fear of our livelihood? What are the alternatives?
Before I forget them, this is my list of the joys of having a week off:
-all the boys in the big bed, wriggling, jiggling and giggling while I growl and grumble
-family breakfasts of 'dippy eggs' and endless piles of toast and jam, with kids playing cars around the kitchen table.
-tickles and giggling and not having the tele on at all because we are so busy playing and running and reading and doing, together.
-dozy, snoozy afternoons, hot milo and bikkies.
-being able to talk to each other all day and all night.
-going to dinner at a friends restaurant and tasting the love in the food.
-remembering that we love food too, and there is a reason we are doing all this.
-being so thrilled and rested and inspired after a week off, I baked a gateau basque and it was beautiful.
I'll be back again, sooner than last time....
This all consuming life of small business and children continues to swallow us up. But things are improving. We are almost fully staffed in the bakery now, and everyone seems to be chugging along happily.
We took a week to do some maintenance and recover ourselves before the next big onslaught. A well deserved break away from thinking non-stop about our business. But now there is fall out about that time away. I'm dealing with customers who may be lost, who were angry about not being able to get bread for a week and want us to know it. Even though I gave them notice, verbal and written.
Will I always be a slave to these customers? When will I be master of my own destiny? Is this the capitalist punishment? Subject to the whims of the market and forever on edge? Feeling like we could never close again for fear of our livelihood? What are the alternatives?
Before I forget them, this is my list of the joys of having a week off:
-all the boys in the big bed, wriggling, jiggling and giggling while I growl and grumble
-family breakfasts of 'dippy eggs' and endless piles of toast and jam, with kids playing cars around the kitchen table.
-tickles and giggling and not having the tele on at all because we are so busy playing and running and reading and doing, together.
-dozy, snoozy afternoons, hot milo and bikkies.
-being able to talk to each other all day and all night.
-going to dinner at a friends restaurant and tasting the love in the food.
-remembering that we love food too, and there is a reason we are doing all this.
-being so thrilled and rested and inspired after a week off, I baked a gateau basque and it was beautiful.
I'll be back again, sooner than last time....
Saturday, August 8, 2009
the garden
This weekend we are working on putting in the vege garden.
Determined not to let our business completely rule our lives I am pushing to have something to do while at home with the boys. Outside, making messes and having fun. Because there are lots of parts of life that aren't fun and don't involve happy play time with Mum at the moment and this MUST change.
Vege garden, chooks and plenty to keep two boys busy.
Determined not to let our business completely rule our lives I am pushing to have something to do while at home with the boys. Outside, making messes and having fun. Because there are lots of parts of life that aren't fun and don't involve happy play time with Mum at the moment and this MUST change.
Vege garden, chooks and plenty to keep two boys busy.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
two plates and a knife
There is a type of customer out there who drives me nuts.
They are a pair of women, over 65. They are smart casual dressed, in well pressed pant suit. You do know what I mean. Uptight doesn't even begin to describe them.
They come in and proceed to order. One coffee each, and one sweet item to share. Two plates and a knife please. And they sit and sit and sit with their purchase of under $10 between them.
They will complain about the service. The waiters can spot them a mile away and they know these low spend table sitters do not tip, so they won't bother with them.
What makes me nuts is why can't they just buy something each to share. Then you can taste two freshly baked goodies. You came out anyway. What's the point of a coming all this way for coffee and half a bun?
I know that being a food person means that I want to eat. I am interested in how food tastes, what tastes good, where I can get it and who makes it. I eat without concern for cholesterol, vitamin content, weight gain or guilt. I know other people do not do this. They go through life on a quest for fibre and fish oils, grappling with their desires, struggling to suppress the urge for mud cake and croissant.
Until they're 65 and sitting in a cafe on a decaf soy latte, trying to saw a monte carlo in half. What a shame.
They are a pair of women, over 65. They are smart casual dressed, in well pressed pant suit. You do know what I mean. Uptight doesn't even begin to describe them.
They come in and proceed to order. One coffee each, and one sweet item to share. Two plates and a knife please. And they sit and sit and sit with their purchase of under $10 between them.
They will complain about the service. The waiters can spot them a mile away and they know these low spend table sitters do not tip, so they won't bother with them.
What makes me nuts is why can't they just buy something each to share. Then you can taste two freshly baked goodies. You came out anyway. What's the point of a coming all this way for coffee and half a bun?
I know that being a food person means that I want to eat. I am interested in how food tastes, what tastes good, where I can get it and who makes it. I eat without concern for cholesterol, vitamin content, weight gain or guilt. I know other people do not do this. They go through life on a quest for fibre and fish oils, grappling with their desires, struggling to suppress the urge for mud cake and croissant.
Until they're 65 and sitting in a cafe on a decaf soy latte, trying to saw a monte carlo in half. What a shame.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
gen y need not apply
A long term staff member of ours left today, as in quit. No notice, no warning, no explanation.
How can he do this? No, that's not an indignant, self pitying 'How can he do this to us?' question. I mean how can he just decide one day that he's no longer going to work? What of his own responsibilities?
Well since he's a gen y, he's still living at home with Mum and Dad well into his late 20's. Having his ego massaged, being told he's a golden child, no need to stress your self daahlink. So he can quit his job without worrying about making the rent or paying his bills or having to feed himself. That's all being done for him. He's so comfortable, he can just quit and mooch around home, having his washing done and playing the Wii until he feels like working again.
Gen Y may have been told they are on the path to milk and honey, the best jobs for the most money are coming their way. And it may be true, but gen y are not going to conquer the world with all their wealth, because they are going to starve to death once their boomer parents die.
Like Aztecs, this golden age generation will just disappear. And the rest of us will be like 'oh yeah, remeber those little f**ers, geez thank god they're gone, weren't they a waste of time...'
We aren't pissed that you've left, loser, it's that you gave no notice. Even one week would have been enough. But no, just the walk out. Hard to believe someone could be so short sighted. Quitting does not bode well for a decent reference, does it?
How can he do this? No, that's not an indignant, self pitying 'How can he do this to us?' question. I mean how can he just decide one day that he's no longer going to work? What of his own responsibilities?
Well since he's a gen y, he's still living at home with Mum and Dad well into his late 20's. Having his ego massaged, being told he's a golden child, no need to stress your self daahlink. So he can quit his job without worrying about making the rent or paying his bills or having to feed himself. That's all being done for him. He's so comfortable, he can just quit and mooch around home, having his washing done and playing the Wii until he feels like working again.
Gen Y may have been told they are on the path to milk and honey, the best jobs for the most money are coming their way. And it may be true, but gen y are not going to conquer the world with all their wealth, because they are going to starve to death once their boomer parents die.
Like Aztecs, this golden age generation will just disappear. And the rest of us will be like 'oh yeah, remeber those little f**ers, geez thank god they're gone, weren't they a waste of time...'
We aren't pissed that you've left, loser, it's that you gave no notice. Even one week would have been enough. But no, just the walk out. Hard to believe someone could be so short sighted. Quitting does not bode well for a decent reference, does it?
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