My arrival at Le Bernardin just over five and a half years ago marked an important turning point in my career. Beyond the obvious reason- a bigger stage on which to perform, along with the pressures and responsibility that accompany that- the transition also meant reserving more of my attention for facets of the business that lie outside of the kitchen.
One immediate realization was one of brand awareness. Sure, up until that point I had represented other chefs and restaurants, and I was already familiar with the PR game and working with the media. But my new home symbolized something far beyond any one person, something much greater than the sign on the door. And this legacy meant a great deal, both within the culinary community, but also to the public-at-large. Suddenly, I became sensitive to how one seemingly small decision of mine might impact the greater brand, or image, of the restaurant. And likewise, any injury to the restaurant would be felt as a personal attack.
This may be Business 101 to most, but as someone who has done little more than kitchen work, that's a heavy weight and responsibility. But as I’ve said before in other places, I’ve had a great boss and role model to learn from, to serve as an example, and to provide a lens through which I can understand the bigger picture of the restaurant, its reach, and how I fit in and contribute to it. At the end of the day, I’m responsible first and foremost for what’s on the plate, but never far in my mind is the fact that I help to curate the overall vision of Le Bernardin, both in the kitchen and out.
As the years have clicked by- and how fast they’ve come and gone- I’ve begun to recognize the impact I have made, and the potential influence I may offer in the future. But along the way I also realized that a new brand is emerging, and that’s my own. Now, at one time, I would have balked at such a cheesy statement, but I think it’s time to take the idea seriously. I’ve reached a certain point of reflection, to figure out what values I represent, how best to communicate them, and just how it is they fit into the larger community. I don’t see such an identity as conflicting with the larger whole; I think both compliment each other.
I’d like to think that I offer a reliable degree of consistency, perhaps some measure of credibility, along with an honest, respectful, and nurturing attitude driving it all. It begins in my kitchen and with my staff on a daily basis; but it eventually extends to our clientele, and then far beyond to a larger public and a great number of anonymous readers here. The blogs (did you know there’s another one?) have become a precious way to both convey and preserve those ideals. Regular readers will hopefully notice that, to me, content is king. The last thing I want to do is waste anyone’s time! In the process, it matters as well that I put forth positivity and I’d rather be silent than add to all of the negative static. But I also try my best to put forth an image of independence, integrity, and transparency. Not only do I eschew advertising on the blog for reasons of pure aesthetics, but I’m also sensitive to the appearance of selling or shilling. I’ll support something I believe in, but only if it supports the content.
So the question inevitably arises, why put myself out there at all? Is it ego or vanity? I’d like to think not, but I do think it’s always important to ask that question, to evaluate the reasons why we do what we do and whether our actions are still aligned with our values. I simply cannot say 'no' to work. I may not have had many expectations when I began the blog, but I’ve since realized what the results have been. There’s certainly an interest in the work at the restaurant, but also, a sense of community has slowly begun to take shape around the writing here. Though we all may not ever end up interacting directly, there is an implicit exchange and shared experience. We’re living in a pretty interesting age, where networks and communities are becoming harder to define, as they continue to manifest themselves in different ways. Information, too, travels farther and faster than ever. I like the notion of being able to generate and foster ideas among a loose-knit community. Rather than say that this dialog is centered around some idea of ‘me’, I’d prefer to think that it’s merely enabled by me.
But still, what’s the catch? Am I suddenly a ‘business’? Of course not. Isn’t the sole purpose of a ‘brand’ to sell you a product? I don’t necessarily think so. I already have a job, and indeed, it keeps me really busy. But I do think that our future will offer different platforms and opportunities, some we can already see taking shape, and others that we can’t yet imagine. As much as I live in the present, I embrace all of the future possibilities; I also think that it's in our best interest to preserve what’s important. I think the best course is to slowly build a foundation upon which we can better position ourselves to adapt. Building blocks.
I think we’re all looking for access, whether it’s to information, a lifestyle, or a community. We’re looking for choices, and in an increasingly fast-paced, short-attention span, and anonymous internet culture, I think we’re also seeking an experience built around personalization. But what does this have to do with a blog about pastry and professional kitchens? Well, in some small way I do provide access, in different forms and to different people, but I try to package it in a very personal and transparent way. And that takes us back to core values and how to apply them in an attempt to enrich the experience and to further deepen the exchange that’s already taking place.
Enter the the OpenSky Project. Over the last year or two, I’ve been offered a variety of networking and endorsement opportunities, nearly all of which I’ve dismissed or turned down. None of them ever presented a good fit, whether to the content or my personal identity. One idea, however, stood out among all that chatter, one that seemed to click with me. It was forward thinking and, most important, an opportunity where I would maintain ultimate control over my involvement. The basic mission of the OpenSky Project is to put a face back on the internet shopping experience, to return to the personalization and expertise of a 'mom-and-pop' shop on Main Street. By assembling a group of diverse and dynamic ‘experts’ in a variety of fields, OpenSky has set up a network of ‘shopkeepers’ who are fulfilling those yearnings to access something focused and customized (among them, our friend Mr. Ruhlman). It’s just a small push against the cold, empty ‘big box’ and its online counterparts.
So what does this mean to you and me? Simple. I keep doing what I’m doing, writing about what I love, but I’ll cast a wider net by providing access to parts of it. The shelves in my ‘shop’ may be spare now, but I’ll continue to fill it as I share information and techniques. For you, it’s also business as usual, but with the added option of deepening the level of your experience if you wish, and from there, the possibility of discovering other like-minded ‘shopkeepers’ who are sharing their passions as well.
Again, a small but significant step toward something bigger, another building block set into the foundation to support new and interesting opportunities.
