Jesse Kornbluth reviews Danny Meyer’s new book and has one bit of advice for you: “Eat his words.”
SHAK: That’s the name Shake Shack will use on a stock exchange. And soon. As 2014 ended, Danny Meyer filed for an IPO for his 10-year-old hamburger chain. He hopes to raise $100 million. There are now 63 Shake Shacks. With $100 million, Danny Meyer may make quality burgers more available. Maybe not the Golden Arches, but enough to thrill the millions who want a better burger.
How did this happen?
The bigger question: The Zagat rankings are in constant flux in New York, but certain names are always near the top — Gramercy Tavern, Eleven Madison Park, Union Square Café. How did the owner of those restaurants succeed in a radically different business: burgers with flair?
And big question #2: Most restaurants fail, and quickly; Danny Meyer restaurants become institutions. In 25 years, he’s closed only one — Tabla, a daring Indian restaurant.
How does that happen?
“Setting the Table: The Transforming Power of Hospitality in Business” is, as the title suggests, not really a memoir about his life in restaurants. There are mouth-watering descriptions of great meals, but this was not a book fated to be devoured by foodies and unknown to the general public. Really, it’s a how-to manual, a common sense guide to smart business practices that should be read — like: today! — by anyone whose livelihood involves face-to-face encounters with customers. If you, or someone you have the bad luck to work with, believes that nice guys finish last and the only way to get to the top is to kick others off the ladder as you claw your way up, this is the book to read — like: yesterday. [To buy the paperback from Amazon, click here. For the Kindle edition, click here.]
This book obeys the form of memoir, especially in the young Meyer’s culinary education — his writing will remind some readers of A.J. Liebling’s postgraduate adventures in Between Meals. But almost every story has a psychological twist; this is a man who has learned a lot by eating and a lot more by listening and watching. And a man with a mission: not to be his father, who went bankrupt twice.
What he’s concluded is obvious to those who have been to his restaurants: It’s not about the food. It’s about the people. It’s about the way you feel when you’re there — about the way the staff makes you feel. In a word, it’s about hospitality.
What is hospitality?
It starts with a belief: “The other person is on your side.”
And then the belief becomes behavior: “Hospitality is present when something happens for you.”
Meyer came to this business philosophy young. In 1985, when he was 27 and opening his first restaurant, Union Square Café, he had job applicants answer unusual questions: “Has your sense of humor been useful to you in your service career?” and “What was so wrong about your last job?” and “Do you prefer Hellman’s or Miracle Whip?” In this way, he hired “genuine, happy, optimistic” people. They shared their good feelings with customers. And customers felt liked and valued. They became regulars — and if the secret of a successful long-term enterprise is not Repeat Business, what is it?
Make no mistake: this kind of hospitality requires work. Not just when the customer walks through the door, but before and after.
If Meyer knows a couple is coming to celebrate a birthday or anniversary, he’s not above picking up a phone and telling them how much he’s looking forward to their visit.
Then there was the dishwasher who took extra care; soon, he’d cut knife-and-fork loss by 50%. His manager told Meyer. And Meyer went to the dishwasher to thank him.
Or the time a woman arrived at Tabla having left her wallet and cell phone in a taxi. The restaurant manager began calling her phone, reached the cab driver, and — without saying a word to her — he sent a staffer in a taxi to pick up her stuff while she was having lunch. Cost: $31. The customer’s response: Overwhelmed. Benefit: “I’d be surprised if this woman hasn’t already given Tabla 100 times that value in positive word-of-mouth.”
Tabla is at the center of Roger Sherman’s documentary about Meyer, “The Restaurateur,” which won a James Beard Award.. On the surface, the story here is about a building that was, in 1929, supposed to be the tallest in the world. The Depression chopped 100 floors to 27. In 1998, that building overlooking Madison Square Park had a vast empty space — with windows 30’ high — that Meyer decided to divide into two restaurants, one Indian, one a brasserie. There were delays, glitches, unanticipated personnel changes. In the end, Tabla and Eleven Madison Park opened just four days apart — a nightmare in any business, insanity in the restaurant trade. [To buy the DVD of “The Restaurateur” from Amazon, click here.
Movies about process are tricky. Especially here, for Meyer is the ultimate “good boss” — we see none of the flare-ups that make for easy drama because, apparently, there weren’t any. So “The Restaurateur” is notable for what’s not there. It’s a saga of problem-solving, with lots of strong but relentlessly positive emotion. Eleven years later, the camera returns. Now Eleven Madison Park is getting 4-star reviews and Tabla’s about to close, and Meyer yo-yos between great joy and greater grief.
I never quite realized how people can care so much over a dining experience. Meyer does. And that’s what is dazzling and inspiring about him — he operates on what he believes. Sure, there’s self-interest, but more to the point, there’s a sense of a life well-lived. Of a business well-run. Of employees who feel trusted and respected. And, finally, of guests who can’t wait to come back. This is the very definition of a “virtuous circle.” [This was my experience at a lunch for food writers to mark the publication of The Gramercy Tavern Cookbook — the restaurant’s general manager was a bus boy.]
I once heard a guru say: “When you aim for the highest things, only the highest things happen.” Many would scoff. They cut corners and do well in the short run. They have power for the thrill of pushing people around. Their word is not their bond. But we are talking about the span of a life here, and the worth of your work. Danny Meyer makes you hungry for the better life just in front of you — and fills you with confidence that it’s attainable. Eat his words.
Originally published on HeadButler.com
Photo by zoe.wang / flickr