At 10:15 on a Tuesday morning, with reading glasses perched at the edge of her nose, Anita Currier, 63, stares at a point-of-sale terminal at The District’s bakery. From a few feet away, it looks like the student standing next to her is instructing Currier on how to use the device, not the other way around.
The hospitality teacher notices the time. “I would love the grey coat team over here to review the station,” Currier says, her unblinking eyes not leaving the point-of-sale terminal. Three high school students—a sophomore and a senior from Stow and a senior from Arlington—all wearing light grey chef’s coats and two taller than Currier, suddenly appear at The District’s host stand.
The District is an upscale casual 75-seat restaurant and bakery in Lexington open for lunch three days a week. Reservations, which can only be made by phone, are required. The restaurant and bakery are part of Minuteman High School, a public regional technical high school serving nine member towns. Three vocational teachers, who specialize in baking, culinary arts, and hospitality, manage the two businesses. In most years, about 36 students majoring in culinary arts work alongside the teachers to staff The District.
Currier demonstrates how to mark a table between courses—restaurant lingo for “set with utensils.” Without looking down, Currier reaches for a steak knife from a four-compartment bin and places it on a napkin-lined quarter sheet pan, repurposed as a flatware marking tray. She pretends to mark a diner who has ordered the rosemary crusted rack of lamb.
Because the utensils are always stored in the same order from left to right, Currier explains, there is no need to look down while arranging your tray. “I saw these trays at a fancy restaurant,” she says. Indeed, marking trays are usually a relic of fine dining but at The District, they represent Currier’s commitment to high standards and her unwavering belief in her students to achieve them.
Teaching and learning are in Currier’s blood. Her father, Richard Rancatore, taught at nearby Bedford High School. Currier’s mother, Catherine Rancatore, managed a household of 10. All seven children were expected to go to college. For much of her life, Currier thought she would pursue a PhD. As she got further into her career, though, she realized she didn’t need a PhD to keep learning—opportunities abounded, even as a customer dining at a fancy restaurant.
Today, Currier holds two masters degrees and two vocational teaching licenses: M.Ed. in education from Cambridge College, M.Ed. in nutrition education from Framingham State University, and licensure from the Massachusetts Department of Elementary & Secondary Education to teach culinary arts and hospitality management.
Shifting modes from teacher to restaurant manager, Currier reviews the five reservations for lunch and the break schedule. Pre-service meeting adjourns. A bell rings over the loudspeaker.
“You’re welcome to walk around,” Currier says, as she speedwalks toward the bakery counter. “I run around.” Only the back of her chef’s coat remains visible. It reads: Make yourself proud. It’s fitting. Currier does not waste time walking, space on her clothing, or the opportunity to inspire.
I ask if it’s typical to seat only five tables for lunch. “It depends,” Currier says. “I have to balance things for the kids. First and foremost, this is their high school education.” Although Currier cannot control who books reservations at The District, she uses all levers available to her—altering the number of reservations available, assigning more experienced students to tougher tables—to ensure each student is learning and challenged. “Today is different,” she adds. “We’re short-staffed [and] four seniors are out on co-op [working paid jobs in the community], which is where I prefer them.” Despite the intentionality that Currier brings to teaching, she recognizes that by senior year, students need real-world experience.
Like many of her students, Currier’s journey in hospitality began at age 14. She started as a server at a clam shack and then worked at Boston’s iconic seafood restaurant, The Daily Catch. Currier transitioned to cooking at a Boston caterer during college, which became a full-time job when she graduated. After the caterer downsized, Currier became a private chef, but found it lonely. “It’s more fun to interact with others,” she says.
Currier decided to pursue a vocational teaching license. The practical exam required cooking a five-course meal in three hours using ingredients provided on a tray. Currier and seven other students began the practical exam together. Two left early, unable to complete the task. For Currier, it was just another day at work; she prepared mussels, minestrone soup, a Sicilian meatloaf with mashed potatoes, scones, and a cheese and fruit tray for dessert. Minuteman’s Director of Food Services and Training John Fitzpatrick was proctoring the exam that day; impressed by Currier’s meatloaf, he promised her a job in six months.
True to his word, Fitzpatrick called with an offer to become a teacher’s aide at Minuteman High School six months later. That was in 1996. The aide position was eliminated in 2000, so Currier left to become a full-time vocational teacher at Peabody High School and later at Greater Lawrence High School. In 2013, Fitzpatrick called Currier again and invited her to interview for a hospitality instructor role at Minuteman. The position would double her commute to one hour each way, but in the end, “it was all meant to be,” Currier says. She isn’t religious, but she believes in universal life forces. Currier speaks highly of the culture at Minuteman High School and is happy to be back. “The students come first,” she says.
The restaurant phone rings. Currier’s hand reaches for the bakery handset as her gaze turns to the host stand. She sees a senior looking at the ringing phone. “Do you want to answer it?” Currier calls out. Quietly, she says to me, “She’s great on the phone.”
The student nods. In her excitement, Currier accidentally hangs up on the caller. “I’m sorry!” Currier says. “You’re so good on the phone. We could call them back. Do you see on the screen how you can go to recents?”
“They’ll call back,” the student responds. The phone rings 30 seconds later.
“I really enjoy seeing my students develop and practice their success,” Currier says. As the student finishes up the call, Currier speedwalks to her next task. Baking instructor Daniel Charbonneau takes her place at the bakery register. He taps the screen on his wrist.
“I’m at 8,078 steps for today. She [Anita] always has slightly more than I do—she’s probably over 10,000 right now.” It is noon.