The Bear

One of my favorite shows in the last few years is The Bear. I don’t think I’m alone because it’s won a bunch of awards and accolades, all well-deserved. Many people comment about how realistic the show is when it comes to working in a kitchen. I’ve never worked in the food industry so I can’t really comment on that. But, like I said, the general consensus from folks who know is that the authenticity of the kitchen scenes – the culture, the characters, the lingo, the physical and mental pressures – is legit.

In addition to the amazing acting, writing, and cinematography, I find the whole obsession with perfection at high-end restaurants mesmerizing. I’m sure things are different when you’re a one-percenter and everywhere you go is dialed-in, but to the average person like myself it seems like most businesses are unorganized and kind of half-assed. It’s interesting to get a glimpse into this world where perfection is the bar and everyone seems to really care about quality.

I read Unreasonable Hospitality last year after watching season 2 of The Bear and it gives more details about what it takes to get a Michelin star (or stars). It’s a bit weird that I’m so interested in this, yet have zero desire to actually dine at any of these places. Perhaps it would be fun to go to Eleven Madison Park since it’s now plant-based. But, I don’t think I’d ever be able to justify the cost. Who knows, though, maybe some day.

Back to the point. I worked at a Fortune 100 tech company for 17 years. It wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of high-tech, Silicon Valley, but it also wasn’t a shitty mom-and-pop, either. However, in my 17 years I can’t say I was ever in a single situation where I was overwhelmed with a team’s “level of perfection.” I don’t want to come off like a snob here because our team was the same. Sloppy at times, working to the level of “good enough” and, for the most part, hitting that target. But still, the pervasive culture included a lot of shoulder shrugging. And there’s probably a good reason everyone at that particular company, and people at most companies, strive for “good enough:” the effort required to move the needle from, say, 95% to 99.9% just isn’t worth the gains. Kind of an 80/20 thing, I guess.

I also think there’s some type of defense mechanism at play. It’s either the “cool kids don’t care” syndrome or something related where if you totally commit to caring 100% about your craft, you open yourself up to a lot of disappointment and heartache. And mental health issues, like The Bear highlights. Yet there’s still something alluring about striving for a level of perfection that’s utterly unreasonable. Like really committing to something, showing it’s actually cool to care and that you’ve thought about all the details and have your shit completely dialed in. Where every meeting has an agenda and people are prepared, present, and engaged instead of on their phones or laptops. All documentation is 100% complete and accurate. There’s not a piece of lab equipment out of place. Everyone is unified and working toward the same goals. Tape is cut, not torn.

While The Original Beef of Chicagoland certainly doesn’t capture this ethos at the start of the show, Carmen and Sydney seem to. The other restaurants featured in the show definitely do. I think it’s also fair to say the actors, writers, cinematographers, and editors of the show itself (we’re getting meta now) are working at an insanely high standard and are displaying some of that obsession with details and that’s what makes the show so amazing.

Today’s world feels so hectic and fast-paced with people sprinting all day, every day just to keep up. There’s something refreshing when people decide they are going to buck the trend of “more, more, more at any cost” and instead focus on details and an insanely high level of quality. On the other hand, Carmy is exactly that type of person, pursuing this insane and somewhat unattainable ideal and his life outside of work is a complete mess. (And maybe even inside work, given how season 2 ends.) Perhaps the romanticized ideal is a myth and while we can strive for perfect, “good enough” is the healthier choice.