It’s not often I get inspired to write anymore, but when I heard the news that Wheatfield’s will be closing on September 26, I couldn’t help myself.
While after 38 years (and 22 years under Tim & Colleen Holmes’ ownership), I certainly respect the decision to close, I’m not sure I’ve shared the profound impact that this restaurant had on me and shaped me into who I am today.
When I was in college, I seriously considered dropping out and going to culinary school. I was miserable, I wanted a change, and I knew I loved food and cooking. It seemed like the right decision, but my mom, who always encouraged me to test the waters before making a huge shift in my life, suggested I work in a restaurant for the summer before making my final decision. You know… just to make sure I still felt confident after a little experience under my belt since I had never even worked in a restaurant before.
That’s where Wheatfield’s comes in. As what I can only guess was a favor to my mom (because why else would you hire a completely inexperienced 19 year old to work in the kitchen during track season), Tim Holmes agreed to hire me for the summer as a prep cook – where I quickly was given what I’d imagine is the least desired task: the resident gnocchi maker.
In my first week, I learned the painstaking process of roasting potatoes, peeling them, ricing them, mixing them into a dough by hand (and with significant force might I add), rolling out, and cutting into perfect pillowy pieces that would then be boiled and served to customers.
It was the hardest I had ever worked in my life, and that experience taught me more lessons in 3 months than I learned anywhere else. I’ll never forget during my final week there before heading back to school, the chef at the time taught me how to make the gnocchi dough using the giant electric mixer I used to stare at while kneading the dough by hand, sharing how important it was that I understood how to do it “the hard way” so that I knew the process and could do it by myself before relying on tools.
I know not all kitchens operated the way that kitchen did that summer (and maybe it was because they didn’t want to scare me?), but like the perfect early 2000’s rom-coms, the nostalgia I feel for that summer and that experience is unmatched.
It taught me that hard work isn’t always rewarded, but it’s important to feel confident in how you got to the results, knowing you did things the right way.
It taught me that you don’t give up, even if you slice your thumb on an electric slicer. Instead, you take a pause, clean up, and then get back to business.
It taught me that even during hectic moments, there’s always an opportunity to find calmness – like rolling out super long strands of gnocchi before it’s sliced.
And at the end of the day, regardless of how tired and beat up you might be, tidying up and turning the lights off to something you’ll be happy with the next morning is critical – even if it means mopping and wiping down prep space when almost everyone else has already left the building.
For those life lessons, I say thank you to Wheatfield’s and Tim Holmes for giving me the opportunity to learn and grow into the person I am today. Wheatfield’s will always hold a very special place in my heart, long after the business has served its last order of gnocchi.
For those looking to have one last meal there, be sure to get reservations in before September 26!
No Comments