OVER THE COURSE OF the past twenty-one years I’ve opened and operated five white-tablecloth restaurants; an urban barbecue joint; a feel-good jazz club; a neo-roadside stand selling frozen custard, burgers, and hot dogs; three modern museum cafés; and an off-premises, restaurant- quality catering company. So far, I haven’t had the experience of closing any of them, and I pray I never will.
My business is very much in the public eye; it’s highly scrutinized, and it invites passionate opinions from experts and amateurs alike. A debate between people about their favorite restaurant can take on the heat of a political or religious discourse. And if you want to persist and thrive, you’d better not rest on your laurels. Every time you look up, there’s another new, eager competitor trying to attract the attention and affection of the public and the media, each hell-bent on tasting and weighing in on the newest thing.
But there’s nothing I’d rather be doing. I was born to go into business for myself—and I was destined to find a business that would allow me to share with others my enthusiasm for things I find pleasurable. My craving for the
adventures of travel, food, and wine is what first compelled me to do what I do. In fact, like so many other entrepreneurs I’ve met, I’m not even sure I had much of a choice: a career in the restaurant business was going to tap me on the shoulder even if I hadn’t found it first.
All these years later, the delights of the table continue to stimulate me as I pursue my career. But what really challenges me to get up and go to work every day, and has also motivated me to write this book, is my deep conviction about the intense human drive to provide and receive hospitality—well beyond the world of restaurants. Within moments of being born, most babies find themselves receiving the first four gifts of life: eye contact, a smile, a hug, and some food. We receive many other gifts in a lifetime, but few can ever surpass those first four. That first time may be the purest “hospitality transaction” we’ll ever have, and it’s not much of a surprise that we’ll crave those gifts for the rest of our lives. I know I do.
My appreciation of the power of hospitality and my desire to harness it have been the greatest contributors to whatever success my restaurants and businesses have had. I’ve learned how crucially important it is to put hospitality to work, first for the people who work for me and subsequently for all the other people and stakeholders who are in any way affected by our business—in descending order, our guests, community, suppliers, and investors. I call this way of setting priorities “enlightened hospitality.” It stands some more traditional business approaches on their head, but it’s the foundation of every business decision and every success we’ve had.
Since the beginning, people have told me that in going into the restaurant business, I chose one of the hardest businesses in the world. True, a restaurant has all kinds of
moving parts that make it particularly challenging. In order to succeed, you need to apply—simultaneously—exceptional skills in selecting real estate, negotiating, hiring, training, motivating, purchasing, budgeting, designing, manufacturing, cooking, tasting, pricing, selling, servicing, marketing, and hosting. And the purpose of all this is a product that provides pleasure and that people trust is safe to ingest into their bodies. Also, unlike almost any other manufacturer, you are actually present while the goods are being consumed and experienced, so that you can gauge your customers’ reactions in real time. That’s pretty complex, emotional stuff.
This is not a typical business book, and it’s certainly not a how-to book. I don’t enjoy being told how—or that—I ought to do something; and I’m equally uncomfortable doling out advice without having been asked for it. What follows is a series of life experiences that led to a career in restaurants, which has, in turn, taught me volumes about business and life. Along the way, I’ve learned powerful lessons and language that have allowed me to lead with intention rather than by intuition. In the process of writing the book, I’ve done no research, gathered no evidence, and interviewed no one else. But I hope that admission won’t stop you from enjoying it.
You may think, as I once did, that I’m primarily in the business of serving good food. Actually, though, food is secondary to something that matters even more. In the end, what’s most meaningful is creating positive, uplifting outcomes for human experiences and human relationships. Business, like life, is all about how you make people feel. It’s that simple, and it’s that hard.
