Uncle Henry's Pots and Pans

For those of you that don't know.... my Brothers, Sister and I are "restaurant brats". The Rainbow Restaurant in my home town, Pittsfield, MA was first opened somewhere in the 1930's (a guess) by my Great Grand, and Paternal Grandparents. Before too long, my Dad, then Uncle Tommy, then Uncle Henry all joined my Grandparents in running the place. My parents, and Uncle Henry's family, lived above the restaurant in two side by side apartments until our families grew too large. My Great, and Grandparents lived in a house on the restaurant property. So if I wasn't IN the restaurant growing up, I was ON TOP, or ALONG SIDE of it. When we outgrew the little apartment, my parents and Uncle Henry and Aunt Millie bought a duplex just a half block down the street.

I was probably about 8 or 9 years old when I really began hanging around the restaurant in earnest. I mean, all my cousins hung around when we could - it was a cool place to grow up! When I think back, it was the kitchen that enticed me the most. That, and running up and down the hallway between the tap room and dining room. But the kitchen was really, really cool. Uncle Henry ran the kitchen and my Dad and Uncle Tommy ran the bar and dining room. I loved to watch Uncle Henry and the others work, especially when it got busy. I grew to know that was a time for me to keep my mouth shut and to stay out of the way. Uncle Henry actually started to let me help out a little, sweeping floors, helping Phillipe peel onions, going down to the ice machine in the cellar with Tony the Blind man... "where's the light switch I'd ask him?".. I don't know was his reply along with a long laugh. I finally found the switch, but every time we'd go down there, I'd ask him anyway - just to hear him laugh. He was a great guy. We had our "routine". One of my other duties was to listen to Uncle Henry shout "BAR!". That was my signal to carry a customer food order out to my Dad behind the bar. There were plenty of "routines" in the restaurant.

Back to Uncle Henry! "Want to wash the pots and pans Johnny?". A bit of a preface here for those of you that don't know what a typical double pots and pans sink layout is . They were made of stainless steel and were each roughly 30" wide x 30" long x 28" deep. To their right was the landing area from the dishwasher and to their left was a drip pan. From the floor to the rim of the sinks was probably 48" or so. The rim came up to about eye level for me at that time.

So... do I want to wash pots and pans? Heck yes! That would be fantastic. Some of those pots were so big (20 and 30 gallon) that I could play hide and seek in them. I know because I did. Uncle Henry says we need to get you set up and with that he produces a wooden crate and a length of rope. Uncle Henry says, I am going to be getting busy pretty soon and won't be able to watch you so what we'll do is stand you on top of the crate so you can reach inside the sinks... And here's the part that I have sketchy memory of, but I swear I remember seeing "The Count" standing over by the bread station muffling laughs and whispering to a few waitress who were also smiling... I asked "Uncle Henry... what is the rope for?". I am going to tie one end of the rope around your waist, and the other end around the drain pipe! But why? God Bless His Soul, Uncle Henry says.. listen, those sinks are deep. If you should fall in, all you have to do is pull yourself back out with the rope!

Made perfect sense to me!

And so it was, I don't know how many times I did it but distinctly remember several or more times.. I would ask Uncle Henry if I could wash the pots and pans and he would always say yes. I would slide that crate out from under the sinks, tie the rope around my waist and the drain pipe, climb up on that crate and get busy. I never gave it a second thought, but would see guys from the bar, standing in the hall near the men's room, looking into the kitchen, laughing and returning to the bar. I think it was "Emma" (a waitress) that finally told me what was going on.

My Dad was only home on Monday and Tuesday nights and rarely smiled except for when watching The Melton Burl or Red Skelton Show on TV. But I swear, to this day I remember the incredibly warm feeling I got when my Dad would walk into the kitchen to pick up an order, look at me standing at that sink with that stupid rope tied to my waist... and smiling at me.

In case you haven't figured this out yet, let me enlighten you. Uncle Henry was the prankster of the family. Considering my very early fascination with the kitchen operations, and that I lived literally right next door to him the first 10 years of my life, I was exposed to many of his pranks and as time goes by, I will try to recount some of them in this blog.