The restaurant industry is a difficult culture to describe to people who haven’t been a part of it as a chosen profession. Lots of folks have worked in it (and more should), but dedicating your life to it is a vastly different thing.

The television show "The Bear" captures the complicated relationships inside and outside of restaurant work almost surgically well, while by and large honoring the actual work of what we do better than almost any depiction I have seen.

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For those who haven’t seen “The Bear”, it is a must-watch show that gives a true-life depiction of what the days are like in an industry that caters to patrons’ wants and needs.

For those of you that have watched the show and want to nitpick the accuracy of the show, let me blow up the follies: There are way too many people working in this restaurant in Season 1 to financially survive, especially for a roast beef sandwich shop.

No kitchen operates by everyone addressing each other as chef. We don’t keep kosher salt in the freezer. There is no money in a tomato can nor any practical way to reseal a can.

No restaurant can sustain sending two people to culinary school and one to Copenhagen on even a deep-pocketed pre-opening budget. It is virtually impossible to get trapped in a walk-in cooler like Carmy did (although I do think it was the only way the show could convey that he was unavailable during that time frame).

And there is a zero percent chance that during menu testing they were so far off that they had to spit the food out of their mouths.

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But if you want to walk away from the show for those reasons, you are missing the whole point of the series.

Watching “The Bear” has been the most simultaneously cathartic and traumatic television experience of my life. What is most interesting to me is how different groups of people view it, from television connoisseurs to foodies to former restaurant folks to every level of current restaurant professionals in the front of the house or the back of the house to my chef/operator peers. The show sends me into a panic — and yet it also gives me a rare space that I feel heard.

Carmy’s moments in therapy/Al-Anon wreck me. I’ve been lucky to stay away from addiction, but the things he says and — more importantly — the way in which he says them, speak so loudly. One of the great accomplishments of acting in this show is that Carmy never really gets high or low, as his eyes say that he has sort of abandoned his search for personal joy.

This is a dangerous byproduct that you find in people that do this for a living: that is, people who dedicate their lives to bringing other people joy. Professionals who attempt to do professionally what everyone says not to do are people who attempt to make everyone happy.

For people who do this, we have created a culture that doesn’t allow us to ever have a bad day.

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The layers of judgment that you set yourself up for in restaurants is the furthest thing from healthy that I can imagine. And Carmy shows that. He is judged by everyone in the show — even by the people that are trying to help him. Except for the girl of his dreams.

It’s telling that when he first bumps into Claire, Carmy gives her the wrong number — because he knows that if he divides his focus between her and the restaurant he will fail.

The people that care about him the most even tell him he needs to focus only on the restaurant. The scene where he brings Claire bread service rips me up inside. I know how hard it is to give the people you love enough attention when everything is on the line. And so I know how difficult that was for Carmy to do.

It makes me think of all the times my parents have come in for a long weekend and we got to have coffee one morning and that is it. Or how many times I have had to cancel on Annabeth (who is the absolute wonder of my life).

Or all the times I have let down the people closest to me for a litany of reasons both within and outside of my control.

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There are so many things that I appreciate about what “The Bear” tells the public about my industry in general terms.

Another example: I am so relieved that there is a complete lack of romantic chemistry between Carmy and Sydney. That is how real restaurants operate. It was thrilling that there was not rampant drug use but quite the opposite. Those days are behind us and it is something to be celebrated.

I love that Carmy walks through his kitchen both confidently and humbly. But the thing I most appreciate is how tight the show shines a light on what our financial tightrope walk looks like while we try to be creative. It is a tough walk.

I would recommend this show to anyone that is curious about anything in professional restaurants past the plate. I can’t wait for Season 3, even though I hope will be the last one. My only hope is that they don’t turn this into a fairytale with a perfectly happy Carmy who has achieved life balance and the restaurant is successful.

Because that notion is for the birds — not “The Bear” or the multitude of restaurants run by my friends and peers.