Chapter 13: Leveraging Affirmation - Unreasonable Hospitality

CHAPTER 13 LEVERAGING AFFIRMATION

Founded in 1954, Relais & Châteaux is an association of some of the best independent restaurants and hotels in the world.

Michelin stars and New York Times reviews aren't honors you can ask for; you work hard, try to be the best you can be, and hope they show up to evaluate you. But you apply to Relais when you think you're ready, and in 2008, Daniel and I thought we were.

You pay to be a part of it, but you have to be accepted, and the guidelines are notoriously stringent. Most Relais properties are historic landmarks, and the restaurants they include are excellent. To give you an idea of the company we were hoping to keep: when we applied, the American restaurants on the list included the French Laundry, Daniel, Le Bernardin, the Inn at Little Washington, Jean-Georges, and Per Se.

The three-star New York Times review we'd gotten had been great for business and for our morale. And while we weren't shy about the fact that we were gunning for four stars, it's usually at least five years between reviews. In order to maintain our momentum, we wanted another respected, external entity to say, 'This is one of the great restaurants in America,' and there weren't many outlets that could do that.

Except I couldn't let it go. Every night on the floor during service, I saw what a great job the team was doing-and I was convinced he was wrong.

But when we asked Danny if we could apply, he said no. 'Sorry, guys, but we're not ready; I think we need to wait another year.' We went away, tails tucked between our legs; Danny had said we weren't ready, and who would know better than him?

So I went back and asked again, 'Are you telling me we can't

apply? Or that we shouldn't?'

He did. As always, Danny trusted us: 'I'm not in it the way you're in it, and the fact that you're back here challenging me tells me you know something I don't. If you guys think you're ready and want to do it, go ahead.'

It took a lot for me to ask. The words, as soon as they came out of my mouth (and despite my intentions!), sounded confrontational. But I trusted Danny to know I was coming from a good place-that we were proud of what we were up to at Eleven Madison Park and ambitious enough to want the rest of the world to see it.

So we applied-only to get an email informing us that, in between asking Danny and asking him again, we'd missed the deadline. It would be a whole year before we could apply again.

'No, no, no,' he said. 'That's not right. Let me see if I can help.' He called me a couple of days later and, in an act of great kindness, offered to reach out to Relais & Châteaux to say he thought we were ready. He said he'd need other chefs to do it with him if it was going to have any effect and that-he was polite about this-they'd all need to come in for a meal, to ensure they could stand behind the recommendation.

A few days later, I was catching up with Daniel Boulud, whose encouragement had been our initial inspiration to apply. 'We missed the application deadline by a week,' I told him. 'We're going to have to wait until next year.'

Which is how Daniel Boulud, Thomas Keller of the French Laundry, and Patrick O'Connell of the Inn at Little Washington ended up coming in for dinner a week later.

Seeing them there was huge for me and for Daniel, but the staff was over the moon. I realized why: Daniel and I were doing charity dinners and events with other restaurateurs; we were going to the James Beard Awards with chefs and sommeliers from around the country. We were increasingly out in the world, hearing directly from people we admired that they were inspired by what we were

It's impossible to overstate the impact this trio sitting at table 74 had on the staff. Imagine David Bowie, Mick Jagger, and Paul McCartney hanging out and drinking wine at your workplace-for us, this was even bigger.

up to.

But when these three luminaries were sitting in our restaurant, doling out compliments to the team, I saw how meaningful it was for them to hear that praise directly from the source. After that night, I started leveraging as much external affirmation for the team as I could.

The two of us had made an effort to bring that excitement back to the staff. If we got good press, I read the article out loud at premeal; if a guest sent a gushing email or if another restaurateur paid us a compliment, I read the emails. The first time Daniel Boulud mentioned he thought we should apply to Relais, I was so excited, I could hardly wait for pre-meal to tell the team how proud I was of everything they'd accomplished.

Share the Spotlight

When I was working at MoMA, a little write-up about Café 2 in Time Out New York mentioned me by name.

As EMP started getting more and more press, I made sure to turn the spotlight on those who deserved it, making them the stars of the show. If a PR person reached out about our beer program, I put them in touch with Kirk Kelewae, the guy who ran it, and made sure it was Kirk's name that appeared in the subsequent article.

In the grand scheme of things, a quarter-page piece in a weekly listings magazine is not a major media splash. But it was the first time my name had been mentioned in the press, and I was really proud. I went to the newsstand and bought multiple copies, including one to send to my dad.

Not only did this ensure Kirk was getting the credit he so richly deserved, but it got everyone else on the team thinking, Wait a minute! I want that kind of recognition, too.

I can't count the number of times I've opened Bon Appétit or Food & Wine to see a chef offering a recipe one of their talented sous-

Unfortunately, the opposite problem happens so often, it needs to be addressed directly: Don't take credit for other people's work .

chefs came up with, or an owner bragging about developing a beverage program that has their sommelier's fingerprints all over it.

I get plenty of media attention, and I don't need the world to think I'm a genius about beer when I basically couldn't have told you the difference between a pilsner and a Dr Pepper before Kirk got ahold of me. In fact, as a leader, I'd rather get attention for creating the conditions that enabled Kirk to put together an awardwinning beer program.

One particularly brazen example: I was scrolling through Instagram one afternoon and stumbled on a post by a famous chefa photo of his 'inspiration' for one of his restaurant's most gorgeous signature dishes. Nobody was surprised when, a short while later, the brilliant sous-chef who'd actually come up with every aspect of the dish-including its trademark presentation-left for an opportunity at another restaurant.

Friends in management positions at other restaurants thought my strategy was misguided. 'They're gonna get poached,' they warned me every time someone on my staff got a complimentary write-up.

Sometimes people we directed attention toward did end up leaving us. My philosophy was: so be it. People are going to move on, and I'd rather they leave feeling like heroes. Alums of our restaurant, out there doing extraordinary work? That was good for us, too.

They were right, in a way; the more attention people got, the more job offers they got, too. But I prefer to make decisions based on hope, rather than fear. The onus was on me to take such great care of my people they wouldn't want to leave. In general, it worked-probably because it was clear we were gearing up for greatness, and the talented people we'd hired could smell that in the air.

It was worth the risk, because the more mini-celebrities I had on staff, the longer the line of people outside was, banging on the door to work with us. And it relieved the pressure on me and Daniel, too, because with every article, the likelihood increased that a guest who came to the restaurant would have contact with a staff member they'd heard of or read about.

It's not lost on me that not all businesses have the relationship with the media that restaurants do. But every business has external stakeholders, whether those are board members, social media followers, or members of the community you belong to. When someone out there catches your company doing something right, leverage it, and when that external affirmation comes, direct it to the people responsible .

If a distributor compliments you on always getting your orders in on time, ask them to say it again once you've gotten the person responsible on the phone. If an investor notes that the reports you send are always timely and detailed and clear, grab the accountant who puts those reports together and pull them into the meeting so they can bask in the praise.

Use Every Tool in Your Tool Kit

When a server or one of the managers pulled off an amazing act of hospitality, I made sure the higher-ups at Union Square Hospitality Group knew all about it.

If I'd forwarded a rave from a guest about the charming and attentive service they'd received, Danny could pull aside the responsible captain to say thanks. If he knew a reservationist had gone above and beyond to secure a table for a special anniversary, he could compliment her directly on the job she'd done.

Yes, it was a means to stay in touch, to let them know we had it on lock; I didn't mind reporting that my team was killing it. But forwarding an email we'd gotten from a thrilled customer wasn't about making myself look good; it was a way to arm Danny with information he could use the next time he stopped by.

As a leader, you have to use every single tool in your kit to build morale and keep it high. This is a constant quest for a manager, a daily pursuit-and it's hard to do. I like to think my team respected me and were inspired by me, and that a word of affirmation from me went a long way. But the reality was that we spent all day every day together, and no compliment I could give would have the impact of one from someone in a more senior

position. Especially when the head of the company was Danny Meyer, whom everybody loved and respected so much.

I knew better than anyone that a word of thanks from Danny was rocket fuel. Rather than feel insecure about that, why not use it to our collective advantage? So I kept forwarding those emails, making sure to gather a plentiful supply of that fuel for the people who worked for me.

It's common for a leader to want the people on their team to see them as the ultimate authority figure and to box out their bosses as a result. That's a lack of confidence, and it's shortsighted. Randy Garutti, my old boss from Tabla, never worried I had less respect for him because Danny Meyer praised me; if anything, he could see I worked harder as a result of it.

Persistence and Determination Alone Are Omnipotent

Hosting Daniel Boulud, Thomas Keller, and Patrick O'Connell had everyone walking a little taller. Being unreasonable was working, and the team could feel it.

(Ironically, with three of the most renowned chefs in America writing us personal recommendation letters, we had a stronger application as latecomers than we would have had if we'd made the deadline in the first place.)

Those three chefs could feel it, too. All three sent letters to Relais & Châteaux, saying we were one of the great restaurants in New York, and it would be a mistake to wait another year before evaluating us.

Relais sent an anonymous reviewer; we had no idea who they were or when they visited. Apparently, though, they had a good time, because we found out a few months later we'd been accepted to the association.

It was a tremendous honor to hang that plaque outside the restaurant-and deeply meaningful for Daniel, who had come up in Europe, where the award is even more esteemed. It was also the first time any organization of significance had put us on the same level as restaurants like Daniel and Le Bernardin and Jean-Georges and Per Se.

Another plaque had come into my life, earlier. When I was little, my dad gave me one engraved with his favorite quote, from Calvin Coolidge. I had it hanging in my childhood bedroom, then in my college dorm room; I have it still, hanging here above my desk.

It reads:

Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.

It would have been easy to give up on Relais & Châteaux after Danny said we weren't ready. And yes, it would have been absolutely mortifying if we'd gotten rejected after I'd pushed him to let us apply. But you don't reach the top by taking no for an answer, especially not the first time you get it. We needed to be willing to fail.

Our acceptance into Relais & Châteaux added immeasurably to our momentum; their affirmation encouraged a lot of people to give us a fresh look. We leveraged that accolade, and it helped take us further down the road. And seeing the effect those three chefs in our dining room had on the team showed me how valuable affirmation could be for our culture, if we leveraged it. Sure, receiving praise feels good, but the dopamine hit lasts only so long. Being intentional in using that praise to encourage, inspire, and uplift our team could shift us into a whole new gear.