How Prep Lists, Dinner Service and Late-Night Creativity Shape a Food Residency

I’m the chef behind Paula’s, a small Greek and Eastern Mediterranean food residency inside Courtland Club in Providence, but I didn’t arrive in professional cooking through a traditional route. Before Paula’s, I moved between lab work, restaurant kitchens, bakeries, soup kitchens, farms and long stretches spent in ceramics and print-making studios.

All these experiences, along with my Greek family’s influence, continue to shape how I approach food and hospitality.

Since launching Paula’s in November 2025, my weeks have become a blur of prep lists, ordering schedules, spreadsheets and dinner service. One of the greatest joys of the project has been building it alongside the incredibly creative Courtland Club team—owner Jay, general manager Pam, plus Laura, Kayla, Ricardo, Alyssa in the kitchen—and the rest of the crew who make the space feel so alive each night.

Restaurant life moves quickly. Here’s a look behind the scenes at one particularly busy week at Paula’s.

Monday

It’s the start of my “weekend.” To the best of my ability, I try to keep myself away from the kitchen during these two days and reserve them for admin work and resetting. Today, however, I’m leaving Providence for NYC—my first time leaving Rhode Island since starting Paula’s six months ago. My partner, Sean, and I run to Bolt for a quick coffee before I hop on the train. During the train ride, I zip through creating the monthly kitchen schedule, inputting receipts, updating my costing spreadsheet, and finalizing this Sunday’s Mother’s Day brunch menu. The hours fly by as I work through food costs.

The rest of the day is spent catching up with friends. First, I catch up with Lilah Raptopoulos, a journalist who writes about food, memory and culture. She’s Greek-Armenian, so naturally we meet at a diner in Brooklyn. My BLT is a nice prelude to my second meal at The Four Horsemen with my dear friend, Colette. I fall asleep thinking about their sesame-crusted tuna.

Tuesday

I wake up groggy and make my way to the nearest coffee shop. I pull out my laptop and put in the order for the upcoming week of service, then shoot a message to Don [Hopkins from Southdowns Farm] about lamb for a new tartare set. With a few hours to spare, I head to a museum before grabbing lunch at S&P in Midtown for a turkey club. Diner sandwiches seem to be one of my major food groups …

The reason for my trip to New York is to assist at an event for The League of Kitchens (LOK), a culinary program connecting immigrant instructors with home cooks. The next few hours are spent helping instructors haul in bags filled with tools and delicious food along bustling Park Avenue. Soon the event is over, and I feel the unique LOK glow that comes from being around the instructors, team and founder Lisa. After I part ways with the rest of the group, Sanne, a friend and fellow cook, and I head downtown to catch up over slices of pizza.

Wednesday

Nothing quite like a 5:45 am train back to Providence. Fortunately, I stayed near Penn Station and woke up early enough to grab a coffee and enjoy a short walk while the city was still slightly dormant. I spend the ride making lists, responding to emails, and organizing the week ahead.

Back in Providence by 9, I stop at Sawyer’s, my version of Cheers, to say hello to friends and the lovely team there before heading to Courtland Club for prep day. The day is filled with putting away orders, organizing the walk-in, meetings and even some actual cooking. Alyssa and I quietly work our way through the prep list. Wednesdays are for the more time-consuming tasks, before the ticking clock of service arrives. I realize it might be time to go home after absentmindedly dumping chickpea shells into the compost—along with all my freshly shelled chickpeas. It’s around 11 pm when I fall into bed.

Thursday

The early bird gets the worm. I leap out of bed at 7 am and, while sipping coffee, I get my food order in before heading to work around 9:30. I always start the day by looking at reservations. Then the morning work begins with braising pork and writing the prep list for myself, Ricardo and Alyssa. I usually take a few minutes to choose the playlist, a ritual I take surprisingly seriously. Though today, with the number of work calls I take on my headset while simultaneously cooking, silence is often preferred.

Later, I step away for a few hours to join Professor Erica Pernice’s RISD class titled Designing Food, for the final critique. I spend the afternoon tasting and admiring the students’ work: Russian Pascha, Sprouting Kueh, Rummaniyeh and more. Then it’s back to Courtland Club for service. While Ricardo and Alyssa run the line, I crank out pie and biscuit dough ahead of Sunday brunch. Thirteen hours later, around 10:30 pm, I head home.

Friday

After hitting snooze a few times, I make my way to my computer at 8 am to finalize the brunch production plan. In search of tranquility, I make yet another list. Then I realize I forgot to order tuna. Thankfully, some things in this industry happen through quick texts rather than endless email chains and I locate some tuna. I then head to Restaurant Depot for neutral oil and other odds and ends, practicing my daily meditation while waiting in the notorious long lines.

Back in the kitchen, Ricardo, Tshibamb and I work our way through prep and service. I’m especially thankful for Ricardo—we’re able to move side by side with a kind of quiet rhythm and understanding. In every spare moment we squeeze in more prep. For good measure, we do some waffle testing and end up serving them for family meal with all the fixings. It’s around 11 pm when I head home.

Saturday

Rise and shine! I head right out to Baffoni Farms in Johnston, then Tony’s Seafood (wholesale) in Warren to pick up proteins. My mind swirls thinking about pars (chefspeak for target quantities for the night’s service), last-minute tasks, forgotten items and timing. Most of that anxiety fades into white noise once I’m actually cooking. I try, whenever possible, to lock in a few sensory moments: the smell of coriander blooming in oil, crushing fresh bay leaves in my hands, the fragrant burst of lemon zest.

Before I know, it’s 5 pm. Every chef knows that strange anticipation in the 15 minutes before weekend service. At 5:30, my family bursts through the door yelling, “Surprise, Pota!” I’m so touched I immediately start to tear up. I love hearing their laughter drift from table three into the kitchen.

Around midnight, I fall asleep doing my version of counting sheep: mentally timing tomorrow’s ambitious bake-off with an oven that fits only three half-sheet trays at a time.

Sunday

Double whammy: Mother’s Day brunch and Sunday night jazz. I wake up at 6 am, anxious and ready to move. In the kitchen, it’s crunch time immediately. Biscuits are in the oven, bagels are boiling, pots are bubbling, and even our fabulous GM Pam comes in to help bake off waffles.

I’m grateful for Alyssa, Ricardo and Brad. Of course, despite all my planning, the stations still aren’t as fully set as I’d hoped. Brunch service in any restaurant feels like the Wild West—large parties, nonstop tickets, everything needed immediately.

We finish brunch and, without missing a beat, begin prepping for dinner service. I imagine I look like a semi-frazzled Lenny Bernstein trying to conduct prep, brunch, prep again and dinner service all at once. After wrapping up around 10:30 pm, I meet Sean at LOMA, our favorite spot for a nightcap and the end of another rewarding week.

When Paula Agganis is not out exploring local farms and artisan studios and writing about them, she can be found in the kitchen at Paula’s at Courtland Club in Providence.

Paula’s at Courtland Club
51 Courtland St., Providence
@paulas.providence; CourtlandClub.com

Photography credit ErinMcGinn.com