Check out this week's recipe: Dr. Pepper Glazed Ham
There are two types of honeymoons. The relational kind that one experiences as a newlywed, full of bliss and joy, and the foodservice variety one endures as a new-restaurant owner filled with stress and obstacles. In each case— whether it’s a long-term marriage, or a long-lasting dining concept— one hopes that the result at the other end is a successful one.
Marital honeymoons
are typically expensive, and many times spent in faraway romantic and exotic
lands. Restaurant honeymoons are even more costly and are spent in hot commercial
kitchens and crowded dining rooms filled with anxious team members learning the
ropes while trying to carry out the owner’s vision. A matrimonial honeymoon
lasts one or two weeks. A newly opened restaurant’s honeymoon typically lasts
six to eight weeks.
I am
heading into the sixth week of our newest restaurant’s honeymoon and I have
been having a blast.
This new
restaurant— a Tex-Mex concept— is one that I have been developing for a couple
of years, and a lot of time and man hours were spent by our team on recipe and
concept development. Though it never matters how much dedication and planning
go into the developmental stages, or how many years the individuals involved
have under their belts, there are always going to be issues when a few dozen
people team up to work together for the first time with new systems and fresh
product offerings.
Though this
new restaurant honeymoon has gone rather smoothly. We have had some hiccups and
miscues along the way, and we have dropped the ball on occasion. But, as
restaurant honeymoons go, this one has been one of the least problematic.
Restaurant
honeymoons are in my vocational DNA. At the first restaurant job I ever had, I
was hired before the opening, and experienced my first stressful restaurant
honeymoon period. That was almost 40 years ago, two young ladies were opening a
delicatessen and were looking for a manager. I was 19 years old and had just
flunked out of college. I had zero restaurant experience. The two ladies,
Marcia and Sandy, had never been in the restaurant business before, which was
clearly evident, because they hired me as the manager of their new business. Sometime
during that small deli’s opening days, I fell in love with the restaurant business,
and knew that was how I wanted to spend my professional career.
I was so
bitten by the restaurant bug that I took a second job at night waiting tables—
again on the opening crew of a new restaurant— and eventually quit both of
those jobs to start working on the opening crew on another soon-to-be-opened
restaurant. I have always figured that if three restaurant honeymoons in a
matter of a year didn’t run me out of the business— especially since they were
someone else’s restaurants— nothing would. The stress and hectic nature didn’t
drive me away but held some sort of attraction to me. That’s when I fell in
love with this industry.
This most
recent restaurant honeymoon is my 22nd restaurant opening. After the
first three, the 19 others have all been my concepts. Some have gone smoother
than others. But each has been rewarding in one way or another. Restaurant
honeymoons can be deceiving. It never fails that people get caught up in the bustling
nature of the opening days and expect business to always stay as busy as it is
in the opening weeks. It never happens. It always slows down. Everyone wants to
try the new concept. People are making decisions as to whether they will
abandon the concept they’ve been frequenting for years for new offerings and evaluating
whether the new place is something they start to frequent. You win some, you
lose some. The restaurant business is very subjective. Everyone has their own individual
tastes and preferences. It’s best to put your product out there for the general
public and let the free-market system work.
All
restaurants are a gamble. What a new concept’s owner hopes to accomplish is to
win over enough customers to sustain his or her business and to keep the team
employed. The early days are vital for customer feedback. No matter how much
planning has gone into a concept, there are always misses. Many times, it’s a menu
item that you felt sure would be a huge hit that falls flat. Consequently,
there are more times than not when an item that almost didn’t make the cut onto
a new menu, is the big seller. It’s vital to be fluid and light on your feet in
the early days. Changes need to be made quickly as guests are constantly
evaluating the restaurant’s overall offerings. Hopefully at the end of the
honeymoon, all of the kinks are worked out and everyone settles into a groove.
Restaurant
honeymoons are filled with problems. Seriously, issues arise— one after another—
by the minute. I was attending a restaurant business panel once where famed
restaurateur Danny Meyer was speaking. During the question-and-answer period he
made the statement, “Business is problems. A successful business is problems well
handled. If you can’t handle problems, get out of business.” I don’t remember
the context of the question he was asked, or even the topic of discussion that
day. But that comment hit me like a shot. I wrote it down and have tried to
live by that sage advice ever since.
We are
busy now, but the honeymoon will come to a close in the coming weeks and
business will settle into a comfortable pace. Hopefully, if we have done our
job during the honeymoon, we will have enough business to sustain and survive.
In the
meantime, I am having a blast. I don’t know how many more restaurant openings I
have in me. But I am going to milk every nano-second of this one.
Onward.
Dr. Pepper Glazed Ham
24 oz. Dr. Pepper
2 Tbl Mayhaw Jelly (or Muscadine Jelly)
2 Bay leaves
2 Tbl Pickapeppa Sauce
1 tsp garlic, minced
2 Tbl shallot, minced
5 whole cloves
1 cinnamon stick
1 Tbl fresh orange zest
1/4 cup orange juice, freshly squeezed
2 tsp lemon zest
2 tsp lime zest
1 cured smoked ham, 10-12 lbs.
1 tsp dry mustard
1 cup light brown sugar
Prepare grill for low heat cooking and soak 4 cups of wood
chips.
Combine all ingredients for the glaze in a small saucepot.
Place over medium heat and simmer 30 minutes. Strain the
liquid and discard the solids. Return the mixture to the stove and reduce to
3/4 cup liquid.
Place the ham on a v-shaped baking rack in a disposable
roasting pan. Using a paring knife, cut shallow slits in a criss-cross pattern on
the top of the ham. Spoon two tablespoons of the glaze over the top of the ham.
Combine the dry mustard and brown sugar, and press the
mixture over the entire surface of the ham. Pour one cup of water into the
bottom of the roasting pan.
Prepare the grill or smoker. Add wood chips to the charcoal
as needed. Cook over indirect medium heat to an internal temperature of 165
degrees. Spoon 1-2 tablespoons of the glaze over the ham every 15-20 minutes
until all of the glaze is gone. Cover as much of the surface of the ham as
possible.
Allow the ham to rest for 20-30 minutes before carving.
Yield: 10-14 servings
5 comments:
This food for thought.
I love reading RSJ's stories, but the man needs to work on repeating himself.
Note to Mr. St. John:
( Mr. Robert . . . we all know how many restaurants openings you've been involved with since your college days.
All of that is very interesting and admirable, but for Gawd's sake . . . please stop repeating those experiences in EVERY new article you publish )
You're already a restaurant legend !
I'm not trying to be sour, only offering constructive criticism.
I truly wish you the best with your new Tex-Mex restaurant.
BTW . . . I already miss the "Purple Parrot".
Regrettably, I have to agree with 6:00. RSJ was enjoyable to read, the first time or two he told his story, but it has gotten old. And he doesnt seem to extrapolate, to use the (same old) tales as a jumping-off point for wider ruminations. He leaves us in the steamy kitchen. Been there, read that, and will scroll past in future.
While dining out with the bride just two nights ago, I got to wondering about something. When you enter a restaurant and ask, for example, for a booth...the woman with the clipboard starts looking around, scanning across ten to fifteen empty booths, starts walking this way, then that way and finally decides (maybe) that you can have booth seating. And I'm left wondering, 'What the hell? We just passed ten empty booths!'
And if you ask her, 'Can we be seated over here?' she dismisses that request.
If you ask enough questions, you'll learn that 'We don't have a waitress working that area', or 'We need to seat some people over here to spread out our opportunities for the wait staff'.
This is NOT serving the customer. It's serving the wait staff! I'm thinking St. John gave birth to this concept. Maybe he picked this concept up in Italy or Greece.
I'll eat anything that includes Pickapeppa sauce. I love that stuff and its getting hard to find it in grocery stores.
Thanks for another great recipe.
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