Half-starved to Becoming Famous

Chapter 1

Times were tough when Lucy Rose was a teenager in a country town in New South Wales, Australia, the region experiencing prologued near-drought conditions that meant incomes for almost everyone were depressed.

The situation of the three Rose children was exacerbated because her father Ted did nothing to quell his alcoholic tendencies although free counselling was available, and his wife Pippa continued to work in a low-paying job as 'cleaning lady' at the soup kitchen for the destitute.

Lucy's older brother and sister had already left home.

Three days after turning 15, Lucy said goodbye to her parents and set off for Sydney to earn sufficient money for at least a half-decent existence even if it meant turning to begging.

The nine rides with motorist who responded to her roadside thumbing for a lift, took her the almost 400 km into the heart of Sydney.

Initially, her job-hunting was a failure for Lucy. She applied for menial job vacancies notified in shop windows and was asked how old she was.

The response was either 'Liar' or she was requested to show her birth certificate that she didn't possess and had never seen it.

Lucy was scavenging for something to eat from refuse bins behind a restaurant buried in the back streets of the central business centre when a kitchen hand, outside for a smoke, said to her that she risked dying from something bad if eating tossed out food that could be several days old.

"I'm Rickie, an assistant in butchery preparing cuts for the chef. Come in side and I'll give you a free feed."

That led to Lucy eating like Royalty (in her opinion). She'd observed the dishwashing hands were overwhelmed and asked could she assist to pay for her meal, and was told yes.

The kitchen manager noticed the impact made by Lucy in clearing the backlog and her motivating the dishwashing trio and said to Lucy, "Are you attempting to impress me to get a job?"

"Yes," said Lucy.

"How old are you?"

Something warned Lucy to be honest with this sharp-eyed official.

"I'm fifteen but pass myself off as a young sixteen."

"What else are you good at in the home kitchen?"

Lucy said creatively, with a little truth behind it that she'd loved helping her mother bake two or three pies each month, "Pastry."

"You may work as an assistant to the Pastry Chef for two days but don't get injured because being unpaid you won't be insured. There are two unused bunks in the dry goods storeroom. You may sleep in one of them since you appear to be a waif."

"I'm not a waif. My story is I've been expelled for school for taking too many days off to work in my parents' general store way out in the country. My parents tossed me out of our home because I was a disgrace to the family for my failure at school."

"That's a great story, Lucy. Stick to it and any inspector will feel too sympathetic to think of asking you for ID."

Lucy prospered, in relative terms, after being placed on the payroll, buying two shirts and a pair of jeans.

Eight months on, the kitchen manager Shirley Street, convinced the restaurant owner Sam to pay for Lucy, already an excellent pantry chef, to attend a night school elementary course on restaurant management, which was the opportunity that middle-aged Shirley had wished she had been nominated for when in her mid-teens.

Initially, the owner said no way because how could a 16-year-old former waif have developed brain power and education experience to study at night school.

"Sam, at least allow me to bring Lucy to talk to you."

Ten minutes into the conversation, Sam said that was enough and signed the enrolment application and told Shirley to draw the fees based on the signed enrolment form from the cashier.

Almost two years later, Shirley died in her sleep from a massive stroke. Lucy was appointed her successor as kitchen manager and Sam told her to see if she could get her night school credits to date transferred to an online university degree course in restaurant management.

Lucy successfully transferred to an online 2-year degree in Bachelor of Culinary Management. Sam had insisted on that downgrade, saying it was little use spending a further year's study when her aim was to own and manage a top city restaurant rather, thus making the additional resort and tourism management qualifications surplus to her.

Sam took the opportunity to express a thought he'd had about Lucy for some time.

"Young lady, you have filled out and become rather dishy since you pathetic arrival here. Perhaps my son should date you."

"Not until he's learned to become less piggy, stopped boozing and taking social drugs and womanising."

"I'd thought that dating suggestion might be asking too much since you have gained hifalutin airs in recent months," Sam sighed.

"And that ends that conversation, Sam. What I've come to you for is for you to sign this order for a new bacon slicer. Our one is on the verge of turning into crap, suitable only for metal scrap."

"I believe you," he said, signing the requisition.

Another year-plus rolled by and Sam was invited to invest in and run a larger and more upmarket restaurant that two of his buddies wished to buy with him to buy-in as equal investor. His family urged him to retain the family's Heartland Restaurant and because it turned over a healthy profit. He agreed, and installed Lucy, who was three months from turning nineteen, as restaurant manager.

The promotion meant a heap of new responsibilities for Lucy without any increase in her weekly wage, but she regarded it as an investment in experience and had been told she would receive a small increase in income and go on to a salary when she received her Associate Degree in Culinary Management.

All along, Australian-born Sam Papadakis' extended family, including his Greek wife Helena, had virtually ignored the young country girl Lucy that Sam had been treating almost like family. But that changed on the Sunday evening when the restaurant closed early at 9.00 and Sam hosted a special dinner for his extended family to welcome the appointee Lucy Rose as executive manager of the restaurant, effective from next day.

When everyone was settled with wine or non-alcoholic drinks, Sam clinked his glass with his knife and the gathering of 33 adults fell silence. He stood and pulled out the vacant chair between Helena and his seat and turning to the two side-by-side swinging doors to the kitchen called loudly, "Lucy, to your seat at the table please."

The exit door into the dining room swung open and the 19-year-old looking glamorous in a new black-lace cocktail dressed purchased for her by Helena and her hair piled high creatively by Helena's hair-dresser, marched in, looking a tad nervous.

"Everyone, this is Lucy Rose, my protégé and the person in charge of this restaurant on my behalf from tomorrow, with the title of executive manager. Put your hands together, please."

The polite clapping rang out but became louder when Helena stood and pulled slender Lucy to her ample breast and kissed her, obviously affectionately.

As the applause died, Helena, watched by beaming Sam, said, "On Thursday, Sam and I had the honour of attending the university conferring, among other awards, eleven Associate Degrees in Culinary Management plus a certificate to Lucy as top student of that associate degree group. Sam and I were both so proud of her that later we offered to be Lucy's adopted stand-in parents and Sam and I both had tears when she accepted but the former waif standing here in my arms absolutely blubbered.

Sniffing, Lucy stood behind her chair, with Sam's arm around her shoulder, and said, "Thanks everyone for your warm welcome to me as restaurant manager of the Heartland. I'm a fourth-generation Australian of English origins and assure you all that this Continental-style restaurant will retain it's Greek emphasis. I mean I have to, otherwise Sam would kick my arse out into the street probably landing two suburbs away."

The assembly roared in laughter, the live music began, and the celebration family dinner was underway as soon as Sam had said, "Your dinner tonight has been entirely planned and set into motion in the kitchen by Lucy. Enjoy or be as critical as you wish. My thinking is generally you'll be rather impressed."

Under Lucy's management, Heartland's popularity slowly increased because of its consistency in standards and the revolving menu changes to the culinary fare, gradually increasing the need to book ahead by one week for Friday to Sunday evening tables up to at least three weeks.

The newly installed lighting on the frontage was often flashing in red by 8.00 'Sorry We Are Full' on some Wednesday and Thursday nights and almost all Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights.

Almost four years later, Lucy said to the owner, "Well Sam..."

"Ah, that tone that I knew would come one day, Lucy. You've decided it's time to move on?"

"Alas, yes. My burning ambition to open a restaurant under my name in the heartland of Sydney is becoming too much to resist."

"That's fine by me. Give me a month to find and install your replacement. Can you do that?"

"Of course, says your grateful protégé. Anyway, that will allow me to advance my planning and find a financial backer."

"My extended family and I will provide you the finance."

"What? Oh Sam, you can't allow that to happen."

"It's going to happen, my protégé. So, think about designing a sensational new gravy."

"Thanks hugely Sam, but..."

"But you would prefer to make a clean break. I understand and would have desired that had I been in the position you are now. Go for it, I say."

Chapter 2

Lucy worked in a popular restaurant in Haymarket for two years, starting as the Pantry Chef and moving through various positions as a Line Chef and spending her final two months there as Sous Chef (second in charge of the kitchen).

She was then head-hunted on behalf of a wealthy businessman's wife Marie Wishart- Morgan, an investor in several inner-city restaurants as part-owner. Before marriage, Marie had owned and run a hugely popular lunch bar called Pickles.

After resigning her current employment, Lucy had attended a business lunch with Marie Wishart-Morgan and her business manager, Clive Oliver.

When drinks had been poured, Marie said, "I'll come straight to the point, Lucy. Although you are still very young, we have investigated your career ascendancy and..."

"My what?"

"Your rise in influence as an emerging executive chef and restaurant manager."

"Says who?"

"Clive and I for two and we've had a thoroughly informative chat with..."

"Ah, Samuel Papadakis."

"Yes."

"His given name is Sam, actually."

"Omigod, what they say is true, you are unusually forceful though reasonably gentle with it, thus earning respect from your elders, table guests as well are your underlings."

"That's news to me."

Marie sighed and said, "Let's order."

Lucy was left thinking that Marie's business with her had been abandoned.

Conversation during the luncheon ticked over nicely and Lucy became surprised that information about her including her personal preferences and thoughts was being subtly dragged from her.

At the end of the formal, extensive and expensive luncheon, Clive said, "We would appreciate your critical analysis of your experience as a chef of lunching in this establishment."

"Why?"

"Please, sweetie, we'd like to hear your appraisal."

Lucy shrugged, tapped her glass indicating a refill and launched into her summary with professional detachment.

She finished her wine as Marie and Clive looked at one another, nodding, their faces expressionless.

"I'd like you to partner me in a new restaurant we are establishing in Parramatta."

"No thanks, too irrelevant as being too far out for city centre diners."

Frowning, Marie said Lucy disappointed her.

"Sorry, but I do have a counter proposal. There's Ollies at the Rocks in Harrington that has been up for sale or lease for four months. What about we enter a joint venture to buy the title to the ground level premises, rip the guts out of most of it to fully create a restaurant with real atmosphere and call it Maverick Lucy's."

Marie appeared half-stunned.

"Omigod, an emerging sharp-thinking off-centre maverick is how Sam described you when asked to sum you up in a sentence. We've assessed Ollies but rated it poorly. You, however, have given us a rethink challenge about it because of its prime location and with a rising super executive chef in the wings, namely you it could get the wings to fly. Would you have conditions?"

"Yes, two. The first is that you'd be a sole guarantor for me. The second is that three years after the opening night of Maverick Lucy's, you sell the premises and the internal restaurant to me at 100 percent book value as on opening night and be guarantor of my loan to cover my investment."

"You obviously have given thought to this?"

"Yes, Marie. The only change has been I'd thought I'd have to tramp the streets searching for an investment partner, but surprisingly you as a possible investor came to me."

"Lucky girl," Marie smiled. "I'd be interested in investigating your proposal in depth, with the condition that upon the restructuring of the business, after the opening I hold a revised 33% holding in the entire business including the premises of Maverick Lucy's."

"Agreed in principle," Lucy said. "But why retain that holding?"

"Because I'm close to taking no further restaurant deals and thought that promising you were rather too young for anyone in the commercial word to lend that amount of money to anyone as young as you with not guarantors."

"And?" said Lucy, half-sobbing in emotion.

"Well, it was two-pronged motivation. You clearly were worthy of backing and, well, and I saw you as the daughter I never had."

Tears flowing, Lucy ran around to fall into Marie's arms, both of them sobbing.

Clive didn't appear surprised to witness that outcome.

Two months after that eventful luncheon, on the eve of the opening of the new restaurant that everyone with opinions including from Clive, the builders, the hugely creative signwriter, Sam, and fitting out personnel and even the commercial cleaners, predicted that the name Maverick Lucy's would be rejected by restaurant-goers, Lucy's standard reply was, "Give it a month and you'll be revising your opinion."

Opening night was a gala event.

Invitations asked men to wear a dark suit and ladies a gown,

That in itself was noteworthy, with several people commenting since when were adult females in Sydney last called ladies.

One hundred and forty diners were crowded in what otherwise would have been room for spacious dining.

The invitation also stated that Maverick Lucy's was a Greek restaurant first and foremost, with some other dishes from the Continent included on the extensive menu. Lucy herself was fourth generation Australia and her late maternal grandmother was Greek.

Invitees were advised that restaurant policy was that live or recorded music played or sung in the restaurant would always be in Greek, untranslated.

Sam stood, tapping a glass to quieten everyone, and said he had been Lucy's first restaurant employer when she was only fifteen and she'd asked him to officially declare the establishment open as she presently was busy supervising in the kitchen.

"I believe that within six months this place with its outrageous name probably will be established in the Sydney restaurant scene as solid as a rock. Why do I say that? It's because Lucy will ensure that happens."

"Lucy took over the management of my existing restaurant when I left to start up a much bigger restaurant with two partners. My extended family were nervous about an Australian slip of a girl aged only nineteen running the busy family restaurant."

"Lucy entered, was introduced, and immediately laid those misgivings to rest."

"She said she lived to create mouth-watering and substantial dishes."

"She said to those majority of doubters, 'I assure you all that this Continental-style restaurant will retain its Greek emphasis. I mean I have to, otherwise Sam would kick my arse out into the street probably landing two suburbs away'."

"Sam continued, "The roof of the restaurant almost lifted off by the force of the laugher after Lucy's little short and refreshing speech. She was 'in' with the family. My wife Helena had already unofficially adopted Lucy and now she had a huge extended family in synch with her. Lucy will be out soon. Enjoy tonight's experience, everyone. I open this restaurant now for all of you to returned to again, and again."

Lucy in the kitchen heard the huge noise of crowded unrestrained laughter and whipped sweat off her brow, content that Sam had excelled in his PR effort.

She wiped her face, applied fresh makeup, changed her chef uniform for traditional Greek dress that had been her grandmothers and walked out and to a drum roll announced, "Hi everyone, I'm the self-styled Maverick Lucy. You're got you drinks and now we begin with two items, two of the best Greek musical entertainment in Sydney and from Melbourne."

"And remember, if you don't enjoy the entertainment, the food and overall conviviality of tonight, then don't ever darken the door's of Maverick Lucky's restaurant again."

"Everyone else, enjoy."

Today, Maverick Lucky's continues to be recommended on one of the top ten restaurants in Sydney.

Lucy is married with two toddlers. Her husband is a handsome bastard who claims he's the great-grandson of a famous Australian bushranger. They met when he dined at the restaurant to take a look at this Maverick Lucy, who was becoming an Australian legend. He looked, she caught his stare and having a few minutes to spare, sat at his table to chat and when leaving the table, agreed to a date with the pushy bloke, an in demand freelance graphic artist.

The End