Keeping the Faith

As of this moment, my business has ceased to exist as I knew it. Everything has been flipped upside down and I'm doing my best to make sense of this mess. After watching my panini stand consistently decline in Rob's care, it was decided that deal or no deal, I was shutting it down. Each weekend he and his girlfriend spent there resulted in the further trailer trashing of my concept. I expected the menu to change, but I also expected my standards to upheld and sadly, they were not.

The final straw came last weekend when my husband and I were out of town for a wedding. I received a phone call from the inspector from the state inquiring about my process for canning my pasta sauces. I walked her through it and she told me she'd consult with her supervisor and get back to me. Five minutes later she called me back with the most devastating news I could have received at this time. I had to stop selling my sauces immediately and they all had to be removed from the shelf. Apparently, the complaint came from an inspector from the dept. of agriculture, who wanted to know about my canning process siting botulism as a potential hazard. Oh sure. Botulism, huh? My sauces have been on the shelves for over a year and my space has been subject to at least 4 inspections, but noooow we're concerned about botulism? Whatever.

The fact is that Grouchy, the dept. of agriculture inspector, has had it out for me from the beginning. After refusing to license me under her department, which would have cost a quarter of the price of the one I had to obtain from DBPR, she allowed some of her buddies at the market do what I do under her permit. No uber expensive additional permits required. She's been eyeballing my sauces since I brought them to the market and has made several snide remarks about them, so I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. OH! But the timing! She put me out of business beginning Black Friday weekend! And in order to comply with the department of agriculture's requirement, it's going to be  a long process that's going to cost me a lot of money I don't have, which kind of sucks considering that the dept. of agriculture has essentially laid me off.

I have spent this entire past week researching what to do next and making phone calls between sobs and snot. My husband, CP, made a determination that come this weekend, our booth at the market would be an empty spot. I guess he wants to make a statement. After so many problems and circumstances that have relentlessly chiseled away at my bottom line, CP had enough. So we packed up the booth and got it all into a storage facility today. So no market booth and no sauces. At least I still have my meatballs, right?

So what's the plan? Well, we're going to start by sending the first group of samples to the labs for chemical analysis and to determine whether they are shelf stable. In addition to sending the samples, I am required to forward complete recipes (nooooooo) measured by weight with specific procedures for them to determine that my ingredients and processes are appropriate. Afterwards, we have to have HACCP (hazard analysis & critical control points) plans completed for each sauce. Once that is completed, we need to prepare a certified kitchen somewhere somehow solely for the purpose of production, and then we have to have the facility inspected by none other than Grouchy herself.

Are you tempted to go out and play in traffic yet? I think I'd be less gnarly and run over if I did. So the bottom line is that either I play by their rules or I don't get to play. But if I play by their rules and master it, my product will actually have a fighting chance of getting onto the shelves of some great local gourmet stores. Anything's possible, right?

Let me tell you something and listen (or read) carefully. Anyone who can make it through the muck with a clear conscience and an honest day's work and still be successful, deserves to be successful. This may be the land of opportunity, but the opportunities are not easy to get and sometimes you'll have to jump through hoops like a circus poodle to get anywhere. If you have a dream, go for it, but be prepared for monkey wrenches, disillusionment, disappointment, exhaustion, and frustration. But more importantly, whatever happens, never give up hope. It may be the only thing that will keep you going when you're ready to throw your hands in the air and quit.

Welcome to My World

This week has been an interesting turn of events. Last Sunday, I found myself stuck at one of the markets waiting for one of my employees to arrive so that I could leave to work at another market. Sure enough, he was late due to a nasty flash flood that affected several parts of the county, and as I impatiently waited for him, a slightly disturbing thought crossed my mind. The little voice said, "That's it. I'm done. I don't wanna do this anymore.", and just like that I decided that I had had enough of the market. There would be no working through the season or waiting to sell it; I was done now. By the time he arrived, it was too late to set up at the other market, which I was depending on in order to pay the rent at the current market. It was so frustrating I felt like dropping to my knees and crying, but the show had to go on and we were somehow going to get through the day without any nervous breakdowns.

As I've mentioned before, one of my signature menu items are my 'famous' meatballs (yes, they really are that good) and there was already someone else copying me. Sunday morning, I learned that yet another lack luster vendor was serving the same item and had also drastically undercut my price, as well. Needless to say, that made my head spin. In addition to this, the owner of the market himself had put yet another booth in the market, this time across the hall from me, selling pastas and pasta sauces. The bread and pastries guy was selling paninis, like me. There's another booth selling crepes that opened a couple weeks after I had begun selling them. Little by little, my original menu was 'original' no longer. On top of that, my employees simply wouldn't do what I asked. They operated my business as though they knew better than me. Weekend after weekend of correcting, retraining, reorganizing, recreating, and reprimanding wore me down. While they walked away each Sunday with cash in hand, all I had to look forward to was another week of cracking my skull trying to figure out how to replenish the inventory, prepare more sauces, and cover all the expenses with the peanuts I was left to work with.

It just wasn't worth it. I don't consider myself to be a quitter, but sometimes knowing when to let go is one of the most valuable business decisions one can make. This being said, decisions like this need to be made responsibly without abruptly disrupting what has become a staple to many of our customers throughout the past year. So I made my friend and assistant, Rob, an offer I hoped he couldn't refuse. I offered him the opportunity to run the business as his own for the next month and if he did well and wanted to continue, he could purchase it from me in small payments. Great opportunity, right? Yeah sure... little did he know the burden he was about to take on.

This Sunday, as I breezed in to collect the money he owed me to reimburse me for the rent I paid upfront, the invoice for the vodka sauce and meatballs I supplied for him, and my cut on the jars of sauce he had sold for me, I felt like an Italian mafioso. He worked his ass off this weekend, but by the time he paid Mandy, the other assistant (who spent most of the weekend flirting with the new girl at the flower stand), me, and running out to buy some emergency supplies, Rob was walking away with about $30. I didn't know whether to laugh in relief or cry on his behalf. As he and his girlfriend stared at the scraps they were left with in disbelief, all I could offer was, "Welcome to my world.".