After being born in Los Gatos, Tony Borgese Jr. relocated to the East Coast at the age of two. He often wondered about the place he left behind at such an early age. Then, one day in his late 20s, he headed full-steam ahead to Silicon Valley, arriving at the doorstep of Steamer’s Grillhouse an hour after landing in San Jose Mineta International Airport.
“Steamer’s would be perfect for you,” his brother’s wife said.
Borgese had fashioned a resume with a golden border—a ticket, he hoped, to a glorious front-of-house wonderland.
He had just a single copy of his resume on him. But, as it turned out, that was enough.
After Steamer’s announced, a few weeks back, it would be closing after 45 years in business, Borgese has been playing back scenes in his mind of his days at the upscale restaurant in Old Town Los Gatos—starting with that first one from 2006.
“Are you a good b*********, or a professional waiter?” Paul Matulich, one of the owners, asked him, he recalled in an interview.
“I’m a little bit of both, but I can be whatever you want me to be.” Borgese remembers replying.
“You know what? We don’t have a spot for you,” Matulich said. “But, I’m willing to make one.”
From that moment on, Borgese felt a strong sense of loyalty to the Steamer’s family. They’d taken a chance on him, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t let them down. His 17-year-long career there is proof he didn’t.
Jordan Afsharpour, a 36-year-old colleague, says Borgese was always the sort of guy to offer positive reinforcement on the floor.
“Tony’s probably one of our best servers,” he said, from behind the bar while pouring one of his last drinks.
He could carry eight entree plates at a time, Afsharpour noted.
“It looks like a magic trick,” he said, emphasizing Borgese is the real deal.
Borgese, now 44, recalls customers rolling in with crying newborns—who are now about to graduate high school.
“That’s what this place embodies,” Borgese said, adding while the food got them through the door, he never forgot that it would be the service that would bring them back.
One repeat diner in his section was in her 90s, Borgese said.
“I wanted to approach every table and customer just how I wanted to be treated,” he said. “It’s very natural here, and the crew includes me in their lives outside of Steamer’s. And that means a lot to know I’ve made a family.”
Sometimes, Borgese said, he’d even wait on these customers for free.
Matulich says it’s hard to find workers who are the right fit for the Steamer’s atmosphere.
“All my servers came out of the same mold,” he said. “But they bring their own qualities.”
He says Borgese was an important part of what made the restaurant such a local touchstone.
“He was committed,” Matulich said.
Shortly after the news broke that Steamer’s was closing on Christmas Eve, customers came streaming in for a final meal. One group that made the pilgrimage this December was a family of regulars. About five years back, they’d begun sitting in his section consistently. He learned their orders by heart.
After their meal, as they exited Steamer’s, one of them turned to him and said, “This is for you Tony.”
Once he’d completed his side duties and clocked-out for the day, he wandered over to the gym and opened the envelope.
Inside, he saw something that stopped him in his tracks. Borgese was holding the equivalent of a month’s rent. He was stunned by the expression of gratitude.
Borgese said the owners once helped him find an apartment, and says they’d pay a coworker’s rent if they were having a bad month. “I’ve seen them buy people’s cars and say, ‘We’ll work out a payment plan,’ then not use the plan—and let them keep the car. I’ve watched them treat the coworkers like family.”
*With files from Drew Penner
