It was a busy Friday night at Smokey’s Grill and as usual, Louie was staring at dozens orders. Waitresses were lined up three deep at the pickup counter as Louie flipped, charred and poked the sizzling beef lining the iron grates. Fat from the searing meat caused raging fires on the coals underneath, but Louie never panicked and literally cooked every steak that came his way to perfection.

Louie always worked the grill, so he always cooked the steaks. And he cooked them like no one else could. The waitresses almost never had a steak returned; in fact, the only things the waitresses sent back were kudos and tips. But for all of Louie’s skill with a grill, he was plodding. The wait staff would fire order after order at him while he meticulously formed perfect checkers on the strip steaks and filet mignons. On busy nights, customer turnover was painfully slow as oven cook Joe and broiler cook Leo had the brutal task of timing their dishes to stay in sync with Louie. Often, their ovens and counters were so backed up, they had to get creative in finding places to put their completed orders as they waited for Louie to finish his steaks.

Over the sizzle of the grill and the hum of the dishwasher, the waitresses hollered throughout the busy night, “Louie, is my steak ready? … How “bout those two filets Louie? … Lou! I put that steak order in twenty minutes ago!” And every time, the burly, booming-voiced cook offered the same lifeless reply: “When your light be on, your food be ready.”

As skilled as Louie was, his plodding nature was not necessarily good for business. Customers waiting too long for their orders often grew frustrated and left the restaurant. Several of Joe and Leo”s oven-cooked items were returned because they were cold, overcooked or poorly presented – all because they were waiting for Louie to finish the steaks. Joe barked all night at Louie, telling him to “pick up the pace!” while Leo gently asked the waitresses to be patient.

The kitchen closed at midnight on weekends and after about an hour of cleanup, the exhausted staff would gather in the two booths next to the bar – booth one and booth two, as they were known – to sip on free booze and snack food. More than that, it was an opportunity to complain about work, wives, husbands, gas prices and the state of pro football. Louie never joined in. He did his part of the cleanup, which wasn’t much — brushing the grill, gathering up about a dozen pots and pans for the dish staff to wash – and headed out the back door without saying a word.