By The staff is complete. Six positions, six hires, six people who will stand in the kitchen and the dining room of Rivera's and serve food that carries the weight of my father's grill and my family's story and thirty-eight years of learning what fire can do. The team: Tomás (sous chef/pit manager), Maria (line cook), a second line cook named Chris who spent five years at a steakhouse in Scottsdale and understands meat the way a musician understands rhythm, a prep cook named Luisa who is Elena's age and moves through a kitchen with the quiet efficiency of someone who has been feeding people her entire life, and two servers — a married couple named Jake and Carmen who run a tight dining room and who I hired together because they work together like Jessica and I work together: without needing to speak.
Alejandro the dishwasher rounds out the team at seven, plus me. Eight people. Rivera's will open with eight people making food for thirty-two seats. The math is tight. The margins are thin. Jessica has run the numbers fourteen times and the answer is always the same: we can do this if we are disciplined and if the food is exceptional and if we do not waste. I intend to be disciplined. The food will be exceptional. I was raised by Roberto Rivera, a man who has never wasted a single grain of rice in sixty-five years of living. Waste is not in the DNA.
Training begins July 10th. Two months of daily sessions in the Rivera's kitchen — every recipe in The Manual, every protocol, every procedure. The staff will know the brisket protocol in their sleep. They will know the rub by feel. They will know the smoke ring by sight. They will know the bark by sound — the way a perfect bark crackles when you slice through it, like the crunch of desert gravel under boots. I will teach them what Roberto taught me: the fire is not a tool. The fire is a partner. You do not control the fire. You listen to it.
Fourth of July is next week. The last backyard Fourth before the restaurant opens. I am planning the biggest cookout the altar has ever seen — forty people, every grill running, every burner lit. Sofia is in charge of corn and vegetables. Diego is in charge of quality control (taste-testing, which he takes extremely seriously and which involves eating approximately 40% of the output). Roberto will bring his carne asada. Elena will bring rice and beans. Jessica will bring her organizational skills and a clipboard, because Jessica brings a clipboard to everything and the clipboard is the reason our lives function.
The fire moves. The team assembles. Eight months to opening.
With forty people coming next week and every grill about to run hot, I needed something that required zero fire — something Sofia could set up on the table while Diego was already circling the brisket. This Quick Watermelon Cooler is what I’m making the morning of the Fourth: no burners, no timers, just cold fruit and a blender and something refreshing for the team — the whole assembled, ridiculous, beautiful team — to hold in their hands before the real work begins.
Quick Watermelon Cooler
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 8 cups cubed seedless watermelon (about half a medium watermelon), frozen for 1 hour if possible
- 1/4 cup fresh lime juice (about 3 limes)
- 2 tablespoons honey or agave nectar, adjusted to taste
- 1/2 cup cold water or coconut water
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- Fresh mint leaves, for serving
- Lime slices, for garnish
- Ice, as needed
Instructions
- Cube the watermelon. Remove the rind and cut watermelon into rough 2-inch chunks. For a slushier texture, spread on a sheet pan and freeze for at least 1 hour before blending.
- Blend the base. Add watermelon chunks, lime juice, honey, cold water, and sea salt to a blender. Blend on high for 30—45 seconds until completely smooth.
- Taste and adjust. Taste the mixture. Add more honey for sweetness or more lime juice for brightness. Blend briefly to combine.
- Strain if desired. For a smoother cooler, pour through a fine-mesh strainer into a large pitcher, pressing the pulp gently with the back of a spoon. Skip this step if you prefer more body.
- Chill or serve immediately. Pour over ice in tall glasses. Garnish with a sprig of fresh mint and a lime slice. For a crowd, pour the full batch into a large pitcher over ice and let guests serve themselves.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 72 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 82mg