Writer: Anthony Taylor
Photos: Duane Tinkey
It wasn’t the original plan, but this story starts with a cat — specifically, a black cat of unknown origin and indeterminate age. Her full official name was Lady Von Boba Beans of Castle Grey Skull, but colloquially, she was Trash Cat. And on June 11, after [REDACTED] years on this planet, Trash Cat passed away, completely devastating her loving human companion.
Less than 12 hours later, that companion, Regina Riordan, was back at work.
When writing about restaurants, it’s common to focus on owners and head chefs. It follows a certain kind of logic: The theme and menu are the most front-and-center aspects of any successful eatery, so why not talk about the people who most directly dictate those two things?
But food service is a team sport. And if you ask any chef or restaurateur worth their salt what makes their place tick, they’ll talk up the value of a dedicated, talented front-of-house roster.
“It’s essential to acknowledge that FOH staff often don’t get the recognition they deserve for their part in a fantastic night out.” That’s George Formaro, a James Beard semifinalist and, as the man behind Centro and Django, the city’s Patron Saint of Date Night.
“Exceptional hospitality might seem seamless to the guest,” he said. “Like not needing a menu because each recommendation is spot on, or being guided through a meal that seems effortlessly presented. However, those in the industry know that this level of service requires deep dedication and skill. It’s a crafted illusion that it’s all effortless.”
Which brings us back to Lachele’s Fine Foods on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, the day after Trash Cat crossed the rainbow bridge. The atmosphere at Lachele’s in the middle of a rush can resemble a ballet. The cooks and servers are working literally back-to-back, navigating one another with a chaotic mixture of energy and trust.
Riordan stands at her post in the thick of it all, greeting patrons as they enter, guiding them through the menu and ordering process. In between orders, she’s a tiny blur of motion, wiping down tables, back stocking, checking in on diners. She’s pulled her purple-and-black hair into pigtails, bedecked in denim blue OshKosh bib overalls, peering through a pair of oversized glasses.
In an industry known for its high rates of burnout, turnover and temporary employment, Riordan stands as a gold-standard example of a vitally important food service faction: the career service professional.
“A ton of people get into this job just because they hear, oh, bartenders make a lot of money, waiting tables is easy,” she says. “Those people usually don’t last very long. The service industry is exhausting. It takes an extremely specific kind of person to be able to enjoy it, continue to enjoy it and actually perfect it.”
Riordan’s first taste of food service came at Stella’s Blue Sky Diner, where she made the jump from soda jerk to server on a whim. Seeing the direct, positive effect she could have on someone’s dining experience hit her like a drug. Eventually, she made her way to The High Life Lounge, where she was a fixture for 13 years before jumping over to Lachele’s in 2023.
The pandemic was hard for everyone, but the ensuing years have been particularly hard on Riordan. First came a diagnosis of Barrett’s esophagus, a painful scarring of the throat due to acid reflux. Then there was treatment for a sudden onset of atrial fibrillation. A gastric bypass surgery to relieve those previous diagnoses came in 2023.
Just after joining Lachele’s, Riordan’s abdomen ruptured, sending her to the hospital for an emergency surgery. And in December of last year, she was rushed to Iowa City for yet another surgery, this one resulting in her leaving 2 1/2 feet of intestine behind. Two days after the procedure, still buzzing on pain meds, Riordan was on the phone with her bosses at Lachele’s, trying to make plans for her shifts. (They told her not to worry about it and go back to bed.)
About six weeks later, she was back behind the counter and hasn’t missed a beat since. She lives for the pace and the chaos. She’s attuned to the sounds and energy of a kitchen environment the same way fighter pilots know their instrument panels.
And then there are the customers and the constant drip of dopamine that comes from the steady feedback, reflected in the faces and kind words of diners, first-timers and regulars alike. When she’s not behind the counter of the brick-and-mortar spot on Ingersoll Avenue, she can often be found poking her head out of Lachele’s food truck at concerts or farmers markets. And when Lachele’s opens its second location in Highland Park, it’s a good bet that she’ll make her presence felt there, too.
Regulars have followed her from High Life to Lachele’s, but it’s not just the patrons who appreciate just what kind of value she adds to an establishment. “She’s indispensable,” Lachele’s executive chef Jake Cole said. “You really can’t overstate how important the front-of-house staff is to the success of a restaurant. The people like her who have chosen to be career service industry professionals are our lifeblood.”
He added, “She’s as good as any I’ve worked with.”
Cole calls her the staff mom. He says she’s always keeping an eye over everyone behind the counter, keeping spirits up with a little treat or a kind word. Even when she’s tired, even when she’s in pain. Even after her beloved Trash Cat had gone away.
After a lull, the diner starts to pick up again, and the small woman with big eyes behind even larger glasses looks toward the door as the next patrons come in. She’ll hand them a menu and walk them through their order. Want a coke? They’re in the cooler behind you; help yourself, sweetie. Go ahead and sit wherever you like, and she’ll bring that right out to you as soon as it’s done.
Two decades in and going strong, she can’t imagine doing anything else. “I like making sure people are happy and having a good time,” she said. “I know it sounds corny, but just seeing someone smile and really enjoying where they’re at and what they’re doing? I genuinely want that experience for everyone.”
This is the first in a series of profiles by Anthony Taylor (pictured), whose many previous dsm contributions have included the city bus drivers’ annual “roadeo” and a single jam-packed day of events, when he visited 22 local venues over 15 hours.
He grew up in Dubuque and Des Moines, spent a decade in Seattle and returned to Des Moines in 2011. He is a familiar face at the State Historical Museum of Iowa, where he greets visitors at the front desk, and on the local trivia circuit, where he is a frequent emcee. Two bits of trivia about Anthony himself: He’s visited nearly every U.S. presidential museum and once drove a Chrysler Town & Country filled with 2,000 baby chickens to Alabama for the documentary filmmaker Morgan Spurlock.
Anthony has written about Des Moines for almost 15 years and has a knack for finding fascinating people. If you know someone he should profile, we’d love to hear from you. Please send your suggestions to editors@bpcdm.com.
— Michael Morain, editor
