Name: Sean Michael Harrigan
Born: Derry, March 14 1978
Age: 46
Married: Yes, to Aisling
Children: Hannah (26), Oisin (25), Aisling (12)
Grandchildren: Daithi (4)
Occupation: Unemployed...
UNEMPLOYED is the word Sean Harrigan himself uses, a touch ruefully, perhaps, but it’s maybe a little too blunt. ‘Resting’ is a gentler way of putting it, and probably more accurate, too, although a trapped nerve in his neck is making any kind of rest painfully hard to come by.
A couple of months ago, the answer would have been very different. Sean was chef-owner of the Sooty Olive restaurant, on Spencer Road, on Derry’s Waterside, and had been for 11 years.
And then, on April 15, its many customers were surprised to read a post on the restaurant’s Facebook page: “We will be closing the restaurant on Sunday April 21 due to ever-increasing difficulties in running a small restaurant with ever-increasing costs.”
The night the Sooty Olive closed, Sean and his staff had a couple of glasses of wine, and then the next day he flew to Spain, for a few days just lying in the sun, trying to relax while experiencing waves of emotions.
“It almost felt like a death in the family at times,” he says. “There was grief, regret, all sorts of thoughts running through my head.”
He wishes he’d kept himself fitter, and at times talks like a man older than 46. Where we sit having coffee, he constantly shifts in his seat, trying to find a position where the trapped nerve will be least troublesome.
That trapped nerve is possibly a legacy of his time in the restaurant, repeatedly moving stacks of empty dishes from the shelf to the pass, where the food would be plated and then carried out to customers.
It never bothered him too much while he was working, but now that the adrenaline flow has eased, he’s all too well aware of it. And not just aware of the pain, but aware, too, that he’s no longer working.
It almost felt like a death in the family at times. There was grief, regret, all sorts of thoughts running through my head
— Sean Harrigan
Sean came to the restaurant business late, at the age of 30. Born and bred in Derry, he moved to Jersey in his early 20s, doing bits and pieces in retail, and working as a relief manager in various bars. A phone call from his aunt, telling him his father was very ill, brought him back home.
Needing a job, he started work as a junior chef at the Timber Quay restaurant.
“I’d always loved cooking,” he says. “Both my parents worked, so I’d often come home from school and make dinner. Cooking became a passion.”
He stayed at Timber Quay for three years, before following head chef, Kevin Pyke – now of Pyke and Pommes – across the River Foyle to Watts and Co. After that came a year with the Bentley Group, before a chance meeting at the City Hotel took him back to the Waterside and Watts and Co again.
On returning, he found the owners were looking to sell, and so, along with his brother, Colin, he took over.
In 2013, with Sean in joint charge, the restaurant became the Sooty Olive. Shortly before Covid struck, Sean took charge completely, becoming the head chef of his own restaurant.
The Sooty Olive was one of the city’s most popular eateries. Sean shifted the emphasis to casual dining, and it became known for well-loved, familiar dishes, prepared expertly, using the best ingredients he could source.
It wasn’t the easiest of locations, however. Being outside the centre may have brought certain overheads down, but Spencer Road is notoriously bad for parking, and there were times when big city events drew all their custom away. On Halloween, for example, with thousands of visitors thronging the walls, the Sooty Olive stayed shut.
Sean is immensely proud of what he and his staff achieved with the restaurant.
“Closing doesn’t mean failure at all,” he says. “We did a good job, occasionally brilliant, and we were insanely busy at times.”
And the reaction to the news of the closure showed just how much the Sooty Olive meant to its regular customers.
“The last week was hard. The reality hit me, and the emotional response from people has been overwhelming – all the positivity, all the talk of first dates there that turned into marriages, the brilliant moments people had with us. There was so much positivity.”
Nevertheless, he knows it was the right decision.
“The absolute bottom line,” he says, “was business-related. Costs soared, Covid made things difficult, it was hard to get good staff.”
He maybe could have faced down those issues, but there were other factors which couldn’t be overcome. It was tough being both head chef and owner. He started to feel burned out.
“I couldn’t give maximum energy to it all, and it needed maximum energy. I always tried to deliver a good product, but, in the last year or so, I started to lose my love for the job. I sometimes felt it wasn’t the restaurant I wanted it to be. It wasn’t where it should have been.”
Closing doesn’t mean failure at all. We did a good job, occasionally brilliant, and we were insanely busy at times... The absolute bottom line was business-related. Costs soared, Covid made things difficult, it was hard to get good staff
— Sean Harrigan
He began to feel his staff could also sense the downturn.
“I no longer had the energy to push and push, first in and last out, and began to beat myself up for it. I stopped wanting to go on, so, although it was sad, I was happy to stop. We’d had our day.”
His family share his relief.
“My two older children are really happy. I think they could see it was consuming my life, although wee Aisling is very busy with her first year at secondary school and barely mentions it. She’d be very surprised, though, when arriving home and I’d be there or if I meet her off the bus.”
So, what now? It’s a tricky one. Sean’s wife, Aisling, has put her foot down about another restaurant, and has directed Sean down other, creative paths – writing, for example, or photography, a particular interest of his.
Sean himself isn’t at all keen to jump back into the restaurant business. He sees new places opening in Derry and says: “I don’t envy them.”
Nevertheless, it’s unlikely cooking will be completely out of the picture. As soon as news of the closure broke, he had people in the industry on the phone offering work. And although he says he has no idea what he’ll do, the avenues Sean has loosely explored have all involved food.
“I’ve thought about maybe converting the garage, producing food to sell at festivals and markets, or maybe going into street food.”
He’s certainly finding himself increasingly restless, and has given himself until September to make a decision. For the time being, though, he’s simply drawing on his experience as a relief manager in Jersey, and trying to manage his relief at closing the Sooty Olive.
