Josh Amidon on LinkedIn: VALENTINE’S DAY 2024 PART II We spread Valentine's cheer this morning… (2024)

Last week, it almost happened. The inability to keep our mouth shut exposed a secret and almost tore a family apart right in the middle of our restaurant.A dad and daughter (early 30s and 5 or 6 years old, respectively) came into the restaurant and ordered their meal. As we brought out their meal, we handed the tacos to the dad and the chicken tenders to the child. The girl was talking about a boy in her class.“I told them, Cody is not my boyfriend. I have chicken tenders and friendship bracelets, I don’t need him.”We smiled because, well, how could we not? That was the most adorable thing we heard all day. The father looked up at us from the booth and said,“That is why I will buy her chicken tenders till the day I die.”We ran a few more food orders and went back to the table to see how everything was. We looked over at the girl and asked about her tenders. Without looking up from coloring, she said...“Good. Not as good as a 5-piece box from McDonald's; they’re drier, so I get to chew them more than these.”Again, freaking adorable. We thanked her for the high praise. Without thinking, we just blurted out that it had to be a 6-piece box because Mickey D’s doesn’t have a 5-piece.The dad jumped in and admitted the truth of his betrayal. He sneaks a nugget and tells her it’s a 5-piece. That was the moment everything changed. Time slowed down. The crayon dropped from the child’s hand and dramatically bounced off the table like it was a pin from the old Sprint TV commercial. The girl looked up and said...“YOU STEAL MY NUGGETS??? ……(long pause, building suspense)……(laughing)…..you’re silly.”We gave her a free cookie as an “I’m sorry, I ruined your family” gift. She smiled and accepted. She walked out with a cookie in one hand and her father’s hand in the other.Photo Credit: What the dad was eating...only onTaco Tuesday-Handmade pan-fried guacamole tacos – topped with beef or chicken melted mozzarella cheese and served with tortilla chips, salsa and sour cream.

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After an insane first Friday of Lent, we're giving the crew a well deserved day off. Since it is Presidents’ Day and schools are closed, our crew can spend the day with their families.

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As soon as we’re done steaming our Valentine’s Day outfit, we’ll be walking around the village of Fayettville all morning handing out red velvet cookies. Don’t be afraid to roll down your window on the way to work -we’ll ultimate-frisbee a cookie right in your car.Just look for the horribly dressed man with blue curly hair….

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Last night, the bar was almost full, with a handful of tables and two out of the three booths occupied. The dinner rush had just died down when the two separate parties in the booths left within minutes of each other.As the last family in the booth section got into their car and drove off, our server noticed a backpack on the floor near their table. She grabbed the bag and ran out the door after them.Our restaurant is situated at the very back of a plaza with a long parking lot. By the time we reached the front door from behind the bar to see what was going on, Sarah (our bartender) had run through the entire parking lot and was in the middle of the busy road, chasing this car, screaming "come back!" She was trying to lightly slap the side of the car to get their attention, all while swinging the backpack like Wonder Woman’s lasso.As quick as Sarah is, she didn’t catch them. They sped away.Sarah came back looking defeated, repeatedly asking, "Why would they speed away like that?" She got over it within a few minutes, hid the backpack behind the counter, and went about her shift.The phone rang at 9 pm, which is unusual because we close at 8 pm. Sarah answered the phone. It was the family in the booth who left the backpack. BUT it wasn’t the family she chased down earlier that night; it was the family in the other booth!Long story short, she chased down the wrong party.NOTE TO THE FAMILY THAT WAS CHASED DOWN:We now know why you sped away so fast. A crazy woman was in the middle of the road screaming at you, chasing you, swinging a foreign object, and slapping the side of your car. We would’ve sped away too.You might not believe this, based on what you witnessed last night, but we swear, Sarah doesn’t bite.Photo Credit: Only on Fish Fryday - the Cape Cod Reuben – fresh haddock with coleslaw, swiss & 1000 Island Dressing. Not sure why, but this customer's sandwich got cut diagonally.

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We needed to pick up a few things at the grocery store on the way to the restaurant yesterday.We were stressed out; it was our first day back to the store since being out with a really bad stint of tendinitis. We were out of the restaurant for pretty much a week. It’s why we haven’t been posting as much as we normally do; we’ve been stuck in bed and unable to share any stories.Anyway, we walked over to the produce section.Normally, we despise the produce section; too many entrances and exits into the area, no obvious flow of traffic, too many carts sneaking up to attack the back of your ankles - it’s Mad Max meets the wild west meets the Royal Rumble. It’s the devil’s garden, where sins and chaos grow.But this time was different; we reached for a bunch of celery and heard a thunderstorm sound effect and felt the vegetable mist shower on our hand/arm. This is the most beautiful experience in the world. In 38 years on God’s green earth, we never knew the thunderstorm effect played with the vegetable mister. Genius.All our stress and worry melted away. You know when you meditate and you’re supposed to close your eyes and “go to your happy place”? That moment was our happy place. Our brain immediately spit out a ‘404’ error code. Our mind was so empty, Spirit Halloween tried to sign a lease for the space.Suddenly, we realized a period of time had elapsed. Ten seconds, ten minutes, ten years – we have no idea, but we’re holding our celery and were interrupted when an older woman (who must recognize us) says…“C’mon, no one puts celery on a cheesesteak, keep it movin’ tutz."A second “never in 38 years on this planet” – we’ve never been called tutz.Happy to be back to see everyone again; we missed the store, employees, customers, and of course, the crazy stories that come from it all.Photo Credit: Meatlover’s Cheesesteak - Steak, hand-ground chicken, mayo, lettuce, tomato and pickles…we think this customer added peppers as well.

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Our store is located in a plaza with a dozen or so other shops. At closing, the employees clean up and leave. We stay behind and gather the nightly deposit for the accountant, including the cash due, credit card slips, and the daily report. Most nights, after everyone leaves, we sit in the corner booth and write all the day’s crazy stories in our journal.Due to all this, we're generally the last people in the plaza’s parking lot. It’s quiet and peaceful—except for a night last week. We went out the side door, walked around the whole restaurant, and pulled on every entrance to make sure they were locked. As we walked to our car, we slipped on black ice and waved our hands to keep our balance.In doing so, the briefcase with our laptop shifted, and it was going to fall to the ground unless we dropped something in our other hand to save it. We had to save the laptop, so we had to drop the the nightly deposit, or the sandwich we were eating. In this industry, you’re programmed to never drop food—the cooks will yell at you if they have to remake something, and no one wants a tired cook yelling at them.Instinct kicked in, and we dropped the nightly deposit. The cash got picked up by the wind and began to blow everywhere. It was like trying to grab the money in one of those wind tunnels you used to see on game shows—except this was your money, and anything you don’t catch is gone forever. All we kept thinking was, “If we don’t get all this money, how the hell are we going to explain this to the accountant?”We ran around the side parking lot, picking up bills in mud puddles, snow piles, air-intake vents, and even retrieved a $50 bill from a drainpipe. We felt like we were competing in that game show from when we were young - Double Dare, where every challenge was just disgusting. But in the end, everything was accounted for.We got home and sprayed the money with Lysol and hung it from a string with clothespins to dry in our living room. Granted, hanging it in the front window wasn’t the best idea; our neighbors probably think we’re running some sort of counterfeit money laundering ring (we really don’t need any other rumors about us floating around).Anyway, the reason we tell you this… it’s Pot Roast Wednesday! This is the sandwich we chose not to drop on the ground and caused us to briefly lose the cash from the entire day’s sales. Anyone who’s ever tried this masterpiece of premium chuck roast, slow-braised for 12 hours in a secret blend of herbs and spices, hand-shredded, and piled high on a toasted onion bun, and smothered in melted bubbly cheese knows why we didn’t drop it.

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Recently, two regulars, a Mother and her son (late 30’s and 15/16ish respectively). Came into the restaurant to eat. They came up from the booth to place their order, they were in the middle of a conversation. We heard the son use the words “suss” and “yeet” from the booth to counter. Not knowing what those words meant, we asked when they reached the register. We’ve heard the words before, but never cared enough to ask.Frankly, they sound like hard drugs from a Dr. Seuss book.He explained “suss” and we understood that one pretty quickly, but then got a little confused over “yeet” - he let out a heavy sigh, looked over at his mom and said…“ugh, it’s like explaining TikToc to someone who just got off the Mayflower.” It was a solid burn. We gave that little $h!t a free cookie for making us laugh while creatively calling us old. Photo Credit: This Saturday's Hangover Helper Brunch has been canceled. However, if you're bummed out about missing the biggest breakfast sandwiches in Central New York, fret not! We can still make those for you; simply ask the person taking your order. Please note that the rest of the brunch menu will not be available.

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BREAKING CHARACTER(For the 2nd time in 4 years)Most of you know, I very rarely, what I'd call, "break character" before (only once actually). I’ve always used “we” and “us” and not “I” and “me” whenever I write anything here. Admittedly, it’s a little odd and takes a second to understand.Using “we” and “us” let me tell the story without making myself the focal point and keeps the focus on the customer, employee, food or whatever craziness I was sharing.This past week was insane; I was given an opportunity that I honestly thought was never in the cards for me. I was a guest on Tamron Hall, a national live talk show.I have enough stories from that 48 hours that would fill a chapter in the book I hope one day to be able to write, and I’m sure I’ll get around to sharing them here with you at some point. Nothing negative, Tamron, Ja Rule, and Just Sam were all incredibly kind.I was backstage during the show and having a complete, real, honest-to-god panic attack. I was trying to hide it because I was worried the producers weren’t going to let me live on air. I wouldn’t have blamed them; why would they let me on that stage? I was a mess.I was being walked to stage from the kitchen where I was prepping cheesesteaks for Tamron to taste live on air. I stepped onto the set, and something just clicked – there’s no other way to describe it.In those short few minutes I was on TV, I wasn’t on stage, I was behind the bar at the restaurant. I wasn’t talking to Tamron, I was talking to the regulars that come in to share their stories. I wasn’t yelling into the audience; I was yelling across the dining room at the booths in the corner, cracking jokes. Those weren’t cameras broadcasting live to every house across the country, but customers who were waiting for their food and listening to the fun we have at the bar.My one goal was not to embarrass Central New York. Which is funny, because not one person I talked to while in NYC knew where Syracuse was. I had one person look at me confused and say “is that north or south of Tappan Zee Bridge?” Which made me smile.Thanks for getting me through this, - Josh📸 Credit: The sandwich Tamron Hall ate – our best-selling Bellyfiller with peppers, onions, and mushrooms.

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Currently, we’re sitting on a plane, thousands of feet in the air, on the way to The Tamron Hall Show (in case you missed it, we’re going to be filming an episode tomorrow, Thursday) and we’re paying an obscene amount of money for wifi so we can write this story of what just happened. We flew out of our local airport, Syracuse. As we were putting our carry-on in the overhead compartment, there was a woman (late 40’s) who was already settled in her seat one row behind us. She smiled and we smiled back. The kimono and curly electric blue hair must standout, because after we sat down she leaned toward the space between the window and the seat and said…“You’re that weird cheesesteak guy, right? Good luck on the show.” We thanked her and told her we were sorta nervous, she said…“I’m going to tell you what I told my kids when they got nervous before a wrestling match or chorus solo…Even if you suck, I mean, suck harder than anyone has ever sucked in the entire city of Sucksville, USA – population you…I’ll still love you and cheer you on.” She leaned back in her chair for just a second before quickly leaning forward again and said…“My name is Tracy if you want to put that in a story.” As it turns out, Tracy is traveling to NYC to interview for a corporate position here in Central New York, but has to go to the company headquarters located near NYC. Good lucky Tracy, we’ll be sending out good vibes, prayers and mojo to you at 3pm today. 📸 Credit: Pizza Steak: mozz, marinara, pepperoni, and parm

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