Restaurants are like kids. You hope you understand their innate gifts, and then you let them realize their aspirations.
Museums are like sports stadiums, hotels and hospitals: they are in the category of captive-audience dining.
Restaurants and chefs have become followed by such a broad swath of the public, in a way that used to be reserved for sports stars, movie stars, and theater actors. Restaurants are in the firmament of today’s common culture.
I grew up in a reform Jewish family in St. Louis. Our idea of Judaism was no bar mitzvahs and a Christmas tree that had a skirt at the bottom embroidered with the names of my grandparents.
I think that any business that thinks that the transaction is ‘you give me money and I give you food, next, you give me money and I give you food, next,’ without understanding that people deeply want to feel restored is in danger.
A great restaurant is one that just makes you feel like you’re not sure whether you went out or you came home and confuses you. If it can do both of those things at the same time, you’re hooked.
Short of hiring a new staff, consider giving subpar workers a chance to improve. Tell them why they’re not measuring up and give them a set amount of time to make specific improvements.
Constant, gentle pressure is my preferred technique for leadership, guidance, and coaching.
There are three things that people pick up on the instant they walk into your home on Thanksgiving. They will be able to feel the human energy. They’ll smell the food. And they will see, instantly, the table.
It is sad that the more ‘successful’ a neighborhood becomes, the more it gradually takes on a recognizable, common look, as the same banks, drugstore chains and national brands move in.
Life is a series of waves to be embraced and overcome.
My dad gave me the gene to enjoy cooking, and to enjoy consuming good food and wine.