By the way, I, we, whomever...we are not alone out here in the Internet ether...
A Facebook fan page: I worked in Franklin's Family Restaurant in Hazleton,Pa
The excerpt: A page for all Alumni to sign , join , and just keep in touch!
Mark
A place where the alumni can reconnect, share images and what have you
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Hazleton Water Authority's 25% cutback
I never worked a single shift at the Hazleton Franklin's.
But I did attend a few district meetings in the back dining room.
District meetings were always fun. At district meetings, the District Manager would point out in stark, resounding and grotesque terms how completely the attending General Mangers sucked. And then we'd have some lunch.
While once attending one of these necessary annoyances at the Hazleton unit, I was repeatedly raked over the coals for something or other than escapes me now. All the while, I purposely had my fingertip pressing down on a profit and loss statement illustrating the fact that I had just turned a 26.9% pure profit during the previous month...January. That's "pure" profit.
And if you're a current or former restaurateur, you know that a 26.9% pure profit in any given January is pretty much unattainable. And especially in those days, when operators such as ourselves were not publicly traded and reduced to cutthroat practices to assuage the whims of the investors.
Christmas passed, everybody was tapped-out, and as a GM, your mission was to get through January and February without having too much of a profit-and-loss hole to dig yourself out of for months on end. Still, 26.9% in January, and there I was having to eat more needless bullspit.
And with that, you have yet another insight as to why I bolted from the hospitality industry.
![]()
Anyway, having never worked in Hazleton, my memory is very fuzzy on this one.
What I remember is that the Hazleton Water Authority was facing some sort of serious dilemma. And as a result, the Franklin's in Hazleton was forced to reduce it's water usage by 25%, meaning it's dishwasher was put on standby.
And with that, the paper plates and plastic utensils first appeared.
Personally, I can't even imagine how such an unthinkable thing was even remotely possible. And I'm glad that Emil had to live and work through that, and not myself.
Managing a restaurant without an operable dishwasher?
Yeah, you can count me out.
Mark
But I did attend a few district meetings in the back dining room.
District meetings were always fun. At district meetings, the District Manager would point out in stark, resounding and grotesque terms how completely the attending General Mangers sucked. And then we'd have some lunch.
While once attending one of these necessary annoyances at the Hazleton unit, I was repeatedly raked over the coals for something or other than escapes me now. All the while, I purposely had my fingertip pressing down on a profit and loss statement illustrating the fact that I had just turned a 26.9% pure profit during the previous month...January. That's "pure" profit.
And if you're a current or former restaurateur, you know that a 26.9% pure profit in any given January is pretty much unattainable. And especially in those days, when operators such as ourselves were not publicly traded and reduced to cutthroat practices to assuage the whims of the investors.
Christmas passed, everybody was tapped-out, and as a GM, your mission was to get through January and February without having too much of a profit-and-loss hole to dig yourself out of for months on end. Still, 26.9% in January, and there I was having to eat more needless bullspit.
And with that, you have yet another insight as to why I bolted from the hospitality industry.
What I remember is that the Hazleton Water Authority was facing some sort of serious dilemma. And as a result, the Franklin's in Hazleton was forced to reduce it's water usage by 25%, meaning it's dishwasher was put on standby.
And with that, the paper plates and plastic utensils first appeared.
Personally, I can't even imagine how such an unthinkable thing was even remotely possible. And I'm glad that Emil had to live and work through that, and not myself.
Managing a restaurant without an operable dishwasher?
Yeah, you can count me out.
Mark
Friday, July 1, 2011
Big Ben hand puppets
Ah, the plastic Big Ben hand puppets.
Throughout my Franklin's career, I probably handed out tens of thousands of these popular trinkets. Perhaps even hundreds of thousands. And all by design.
![]()
When you plunk down hard cold cash at a table service eatery, the very last thing you want is some screaming brat seated anywhere near you. And since most parents seem incapable of controlling their kiddies, we sought out to do it for them. Or, at least, to keep those kiddies somewhat amused and quiet.
At the point of being settled into either a booster seat or a highchair, the kids would be treated to kiddie placemats replete with things to color with the 4-pack of crayons we provided. We also provided saltines to nibble on, balloons to blow into and Big Ben hand puppets with which to play with until the food arrived at the table.
And for the most part, screaming brats were a rarity at Franklin's.
Well, mostly.
Mark
Throughout my Franklin's career, I probably handed out tens of thousands of these popular trinkets. Perhaps even hundreds of thousands. And all by design.
When you plunk down hard cold cash at a table service eatery, the very last thing you want is some screaming brat seated anywhere near you. And since most parents seem incapable of controlling their kiddies, we sought out to do it for them. Or, at least, to keep those kiddies somewhat amused and quiet.
At the point of being settled into either a booster seat or a highchair, the kids would be treated to kiddie placemats replete with things to color with the 4-pack of crayons we provided. We also provided saltines to nibble on, balloons to blow into and Big Ben hand puppets with which to play with until the food arrived at the table.
And for the most part, screaming brats were a rarity at Franklin's.
Well, mostly.
Mark
Hazleton Franklin's pic
This is a picture of the Hazleton Franklin's, taken after Friendly's had the store's interior remodeled.
The date escapes me, simply because I did not work there at the time. Let's say late-80s.
![]()
Near as I can recall, all of the folks in that picture were from Franklin's, with the guy third from the left--John Collins--being from Friendly's.
If you knew me after Friendly's had purchased Franklin's, you know that Collins was lucky I never flipped out and assaulted him. Although, there was that one Sunday morning and that one mop handle that whizzed past his face.
I will never forget these hoddog and ice cream experts making with the profitablity routine 24/7.
Collins: Why do you need two hostesses?
Markie: Waiting line in. Waiting line out. You figure it out.
Standing in the rear and to the right was the long-time general manager of the Hazleton Franklin's, Emil Polchin.
Mark
The date escapes me, simply because I did not work there at the time. Let's say late-80s.
If you knew me after Friendly's had purchased Franklin's, you know that Collins was lucky I never flipped out and assaulted him. Although, there was that one Sunday morning and that one mop handle that whizzed past his face.
I will never forget these hoddog and ice cream experts making with the profitablity routine 24/7.
Collins: Why do you need two hostesses?
Markie: Waiting line in. Waiting line out. You figure it out.
Standing in the rear and to the right was the long-time general manager of the Hazleton Franklin's, Emil Polchin.
Mark
Danville--the unnamed bus-boy
I can only remember being in the Danville Franklin's a handful of times.
It's a Friendly restaurant now, and it was located just down the road a ways from the Route 81 exit, and just a ways before you arrive at the intersection of Route 11 where the high school sits.
![]()
It's a Friendly restaurant now, and it was located just down the road a ways from the Route 81 exit, and just a ways before you arrive at the intersection of Route 11 where the high school sits.
In this picture we have the unnamed bus-boy from, in all likelihood, the late seventies or early eighties.
I love pictures such as these, the pictures that show the grunts at work. You know, the unheralded grunts that worked for minimum wage and constantly had overbearing assholes such as myself climbing up their backs most of the time.
At my store--Kidder Street, Wilkes-Barre--they got next to no respect. In fact, the short-order cooks called them "dish pigs."
Mark
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Halloween 1979
Oh, yeah.
Do you want to hear a scary Halloween story? Yeah? Read the card and then we'll talk.
Do you want to hear a scary Halloween story? Yeah? Read the card and then we'll talk.
As a cook, I worked one night shift on Halloween and one night shift on Halloween only. And that was just about enough for me.
Having come from the high-pressure, high-volume kitchen that powered the legendary Percy A. Brown & Company's 355-seat cafeteria in downtown Wilkes-Barre, I never really understood why the short-order cooks at Franklin's felt so much pressure so much of the time. Once I got myself acclimated to all things Franklin's, I could handle any and all things thrown at me by the ever-circling waitresses.
I know the great majority of them would have stabbed me if they thought they could get away with it. I know my way of warding off potential distractions during the height of battle was to launch profanities at them. In fact, my brother once claimed that Chef Gordon Ramsey of Hell's Kitchen fame closely copied my foul-mouthed act. Yeah, I was that bad.
But the older waitresses, the more veteran waitresses knew enough to just stay off of my radar screen when the sh*t was hitting the fan in tsunami-like waves. Why? Because they knew that while I was waxing non-poetic all nasty like, the food would come out in a timely manner and their tip income would be maximized.
Long story short, after having toiled away in the high pressure sweat shop of a kitchen at Percy Brown's as long as I did, Franklin's didn't seem like that much of a challenge on most days.
Enter...Halloween 1979.
Whoever it was that came up with the free Big Ben promotion for trick-or-treaters was an absolute marketing genius. Their only shortcoming was, they probably never came under sustained heavy fire while wearing an apron.
That night, for hours on end, the three of us that staffed the back kitchen earned the equivalent of short-order Purple Hearts, Bronze Stars and meritorious service awards not yet thunk of.
The best decision I made was to chase the night shift short-orders into opening the front kitchen (breakfast end), a place they had never before attempted to serve a dinner hour from. We needed the Char Rock (char-broiler), that was that, and all of their many complaints uttered while under direct fire were quickly rescinded. By me.
When I, a veteran of some truly unique kitchen wars, tells you that this was the single most insane shift I have ever worked, that should count for something.
By the Halloween of 1980, the Halloween promotion was altered just a tad. Yeah, in 1980, if you came into the store dressed in your costume, you were given the aforementioned free Big Ben coupon. Most notably, a free Big Ben coupon that could only be redeemed at a later date.
I was there, man. I can't say I enjoyed it much, but I was there..in the kitchen for Halloween 1979.
Mark
Big Ben cards
Ah, the free Big Ben cards.
Over the years, I probably handed out thousands of these. Perhaps tens of thousands.
I had a stash in my wallet. I had a cache tucked into my briefcase. I had them stuffed up above the visor in my car. And I even took some along when I went out for a jog.
If I had a plug nickel for every time the people I encountered asked me about these in-demand freebies, I'd now own huge tracts of land as far as the untrained eye could see.
Honestly, I could really go for a Big Ben right about now.
Mark
Over the years, I probably handed out thousands of these. Perhaps tens of thousands.
I had a stash in my wallet. I had a cache tucked into my briefcase. I had them stuffed up above the visor in my car. And I even took some along when I went out for a jog.
If I had a plug nickel for every time the people I encountered asked me about these in-demand freebies, I'd now own huge tracts of land as far as the untrained eye could see.
Honestly, I could really go for a Big Ben right about now.
Mark
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)