I spent a couple of years in my youth as a cook for a seafood restaurant. Inevitably, the kitchen would get “stuck,” as all kitchens do – orders coming in too fast, food coming up at the wrong time, bread loaves burning in the oven, and nothing going out to the customers.

When it became apparent that we were not going to work our way out of this mess, Marty, the restaurant’s manager, would jump into this chaos and take charge. He would step to the wheel, shuffle through all the checks and begin ordering – “four fried flounders, six petite filets, five half-pound tails, and drop another basket of fries” – you get the picture. Was that exactly what he needed? No, we probably wasted some food each time this happened. But which was more important? Saving a few dollars in food cost or getting orders out the door to impatient customers? As if by magic, we were usually back in rhythm in about ten minutes.

I have thought of this experience a number of times over the years because it a great example of what’s necessary to make decisions when the heat’s on. What was Marty doing? Let’s analyze that for a minute:

He took time to center himself. Marty would stand at the wheel for about a minute reviewing all the checks and looking around at the food that was ready to be assembled. If there were a couple of orders that could be completed, even if they were “jumping the line,” out the door they would go. Then he could concentrate on the more complicated orders and those missing an element or two. There was no yelling, no recriminations, just organization and direction.

He threw a bit of caution to the wind. With ten or more check in process, as was often the case, there was no time to make an exacting count of everything needed. After all, if part of an order is up and getting cold, you want to get the remainder of it completed as fast as possible. The solution was to over-order items that took longer to prepare. That way he’d have enough. Besides, the extras might be folded into incoming checks. At worst, the staff would eat them.

He acted with confidence. When Marty walked through the door in the middle of one of these disasters, we were looking to him for leadership. He didn’t let us down. He always acted as if he knew what needed to be done, even though he might be churning inside. This behavior, by itself, produced a calm in the midst of chaos. What can you take away from this example? When have you observed something similar that you might learn from? The next time you’re faced with a decision when the heat’s on, take time to center yourself, throw a bit of caution to the wind, and act with confidence. Good decision-making is about the result, not the exacting steps involved.