Tom and Maureen say:
The last week or so it's been nothing but noses to the grindstone getting the work done that would allow us to begin the not-very-long, but still somewhat winding road known as obtaining the permits required for Z to open its doors.
The permitting process in Manchester is far from onerous, but it must be followed in a very specific order, each step dependent upon the one before it.
That journey came to an end at 3:30p yesterday when we obtained the last permit needed to go before the State Liquor Commission today and get our liquor license. What does this mean? Well, once we have our liquor license, we can open the doors any time we're ready.
And being ready means that we took about five minutes to celebrate and then it was back to work. Recipes tweaks. Getting the liquor order finalized so the second we have the license, we can fax it off. Programming the POS system. Printing the menus. Assembling materials for staff training. It's at the point now where prioritizing is impossible because everything's of equal importance. And details that seem like they'd no take time, are eating up hours.
But we're close. Close enough that the light at the end of the tunnel is a beacon instead of a pinprick.
Showing posts with label Details. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Details. Show all posts
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Sunday, March 4, 2007
The Little Things
Maureen says:
When you're starting any business, you'd think the big decisions would be the most difficult ones, the ones that result in long, drawn-out debate and endless discussion. That's what I thought because in my mind big decisions are, by default, equated with big money.
What I've discovered, though I suspect I always knew it on some level, is that the bigger the decision, the louder your gut speaks to you and its message is unmistakably clear. Things like choosing a logo or lighting or even the almighty point-of-service system were the cliche no-brainer decisions. Where we're getting caught up is in the little things.
Choosing staff shirts, for example. We don't have a large staff, so price per shirt isn't a huge consideration. Fit, however, is. So is color. Ditto sleeve-length. And we made a decision a long time ago that unisex isn't the way we want to go. Thus, locating a supplier with shirts that are the right style and weight, that offers compatible men's and women's versions with two sleeve-lengths per with a color palette that's in keeping with our decor and our brand? That's what results in the long, drawn-out debates and endless discussions. Add to that that staff will also wear bistro aprons, which come from a different supplier with its own rainbow of colors we'll need to match, and I've experienced my first hours of lost sleep since we started this venture.
Other things I've been working on behind the scenes include the Web site (choosing a design was easy, mostly because our designer is brilliant, but writing the content is another trial), coffee and tea selections (when everything you've tasted is great, paring down to your final offering is unexpectedly difficult), creating a mood music strategy (fortunately, I've got a friend who's aces at this and he's offered to put together a few custom mixes for your dining pleasure), and walking around the house with the menu folio to see how it looks next to the menu sheets in various levels of light (we may need to change our original color choice).
Then, there's that whole list of other little things that would, in our eyes, make Z nothing short of perfect but aren't necessarily in the opening budget. We can't do all of them, and the ones we'd most like to do are the ones that cost the most. There's time, we tell ourselves, to add these in after the opening. They are, we tell ourselves, touches that only we'll miss because we're the only ones aware of them. We need to redefine our idea of perfection, we tell ourselves, because as much as opening a restaurant is about realizing a dream, at the end of every shift it's really about the food, the experience and the relationship we have our customers. In those areas, there is no room for compromise.
When you're starting any business, you'd think the big decisions would be the most difficult ones, the ones that result in long, drawn-out debate and endless discussion. That's what I thought because in my mind big decisions are, by default, equated with big money.
What I've discovered, though I suspect I always knew it on some level, is that the bigger the decision, the louder your gut speaks to you and its message is unmistakably clear. Things like choosing a logo or lighting or even the almighty point-of-service system were the cliche no-brainer decisions. Where we're getting caught up is in the little things.
Choosing staff shirts, for example. We don't have a large staff, so price per shirt isn't a huge consideration. Fit, however, is. So is color. Ditto sleeve-length. And we made a decision a long time ago that unisex isn't the way we want to go. Thus, locating a supplier with shirts that are the right style and weight, that offers compatible men's and women's versions with two sleeve-lengths per with a color palette that's in keeping with our decor and our brand? That's what results in the long, drawn-out debates and endless discussions. Add to that that staff will also wear bistro aprons, which come from a different supplier with its own rainbow of colors we'll need to match, and I've experienced my first hours of lost sleep since we started this venture.
Other things I've been working on behind the scenes include the Web site (choosing a design was easy, mostly because our designer is brilliant, but writing the content is another trial), coffee and tea selections (when everything you've tasted is great, paring down to your final offering is unexpectedly difficult), creating a mood music strategy (fortunately, I've got a friend who's aces at this and he's offered to put together a few custom mixes for your dining pleasure), and walking around the house with the menu folio to see how it looks next to the menu sheets in various levels of light (we may need to change our original color choice).
Then, there's that whole list of other little things that would, in our eyes, make Z nothing short of perfect but aren't necessarily in the opening budget. We can't do all of them, and the ones we'd most like to do are the ones that cost the most. There's time, we tell ourselves, to add these in after the opening. They are, we tell ourselves, touches that only we'll miss because we're the only ones aware of them. We need to redefine our idea of perfection, we tell ourselves, because as much as opening a restaurant is about realizing a dream, at the end of every shift it's really about the food, the experience and the relationship we have our customers. In those areas, there is no room for compromise.
Friday, February 23, 2007
The Devil is in the Details
Tom says:
I've long championed the idea that the difference you make when undertaking a task, providing a service or delivering product is found in the details. I still believe that, but what I'm learning as a first-time restaurant owner in the startup phase is that the devil is in those same details. At least with respect to material goods.
You'd think it would have been the big decisions that overwhelmed and exhausted me. Things like hiring a chef, renovating the dining room and choosing a point-of-service system that meets our opening needs but can accommodate growth. You'd think that, but you'd be wrong.
Big decisions often center on products or services that are time-sensitive and mission critical. You don't over-think them because you can't. The clock's ticking, so you go with your gut and 10 times out of 10, your gut doesn't let you down. With those decisions out of the way, you can focus on those little things that mean a lot.
We're in search of the perfect candle lamp for the tabletops; a menu cover that aligns with our concept and is sized for our menu sheets; a treatment for the front window that's functional and eye catching; bread baskets and salt-and-pepper shakers; staff uniforms. The list goes on, the possibilities seem endless, and if we're not careful the devil's going to catch us in a weak moment and bust the budget.
It's common for financial planners to have clients take a week and document every purchase they make so they can see what spending habits have a negative impact on their savings power. What that practice reveals has more to do with purchases made out of habit (daily latte), on impulse (the four-dollar magazine at the grocery check-out), or without thought (single-use bottles of water) than major living expenses. It's the details of your life where money seems to disappear most.
Similarly, multipy a menu cover that's reasonably-priced at $3.50ea by the 100 pieces you need, but oh--wait. A hundred pieces only takes care of dinner. What about lunch? Dessert? The wine list?
I was talking this over with my friends at CS Fishery and we all agreed that it's right about now that you finally start to compromise. It's right about now that you let go of a little bit of your vision and do the best you can with the (little) resources you have. It's right about now that your finite cash and your infinite details make friends. You can always go back and upgrade later once your revenue is coming in.
Not sweating the small stuff is counter to my personality, but you know what? It actually feels okay to say, "Once some revenue is coming in, we can go back and upgrade A, B or C." It feels okay because there are dozens of other details that comprise superior service that don't cost you a thing and those will be with us from the minute we open the doors. The question is, will YOU be with us that minute too?
If you'd like to be among the first to know Z 's opening date, send an email to newsletter@zfoodanddrink.com with the word subscribe in the body or subject line. We'll add you to the list for the opening announcement, the launch of Z's formal Web site, and our post-opening newsletter.
I've long championed the idea that the difference you make when undertaking a task, providing a service or delivering product is found in the details. I still believe that, but what I'm learning as a first-time restaurant owner in the startup phase is that the devil is in those same details. At least with respect to material goods.
You'd think it would have been the big decisions that overwhelmed and exhausted me. Things like hiring a chef, renovating the dining room and choosing a point-of-service system that meets our opening needs but can accommodate growth. You'd think that, but you'd be wrong.
Big decisions often center on products or services that are time-sensitive and mission critical. You don't over-think them because you can't. The clock's ticking, so you go with your gut and 10 times out of 10, your gut doesn't let you down. With those decisions out of the way, you can focus on those little things that mean a lot.
We're in search of the perfect candle lamp for the tabletops; a menu cover that aligns with our concept and is sized for our menu sheets; a treatment for the front window that's functional and eye catching; bread baskets and salt-and-pepper shakers; staff uniforms. The list goes on, the possibilities seem endless, and if we're not careful the devil's going to catch us in a weak moment and bust the budget.
It's common for financial planners to have clients take a week and document every purchase they make so they can see what spending habits have a negative impact on their savings power. What that practice reveals has more to do with purchases made out of habit (daily latte), on impulse (the four-dollar magazine at the grocery check-out), or without thought (single-use bottles of water) than major living expenses. It's the details of your life where money seems to disappear most.
Similarly, multipy a menu cover that's reasonably-priced at $3.50ea by the 100 pieces you need, but oh--wait. A hundred pieces only takes care of dinner. What about lunch? Dessert? The wine list?
I was talking this over with my friends at CS Fishery and we all agreed that it's right about now that you finally start to compromise. It's right about now that you let go of a little bit of your vision and do the best you can with the (little) resources you have. It's right about now that your finite cash and your infinite details make friends. You can always go back and upgrade later once your revenue is coming in.
Not sweating the small stuff is counter to my personality, but you know what? It actually feels okay to say, "Once some revenue is coming in, we can go back and upgrade A, B or C." It feels okay because there are dozens of other details that comprise superior service that don't cost you a thing and those will be with us from the minute we open the doors. The question is, will YOU be with us that minute too?
If you'd like to be among the first to know Z 's opening date, send an email to newsletter@zfoodanddrink.com with the word subscribe in the body or subject line. We'll add you to the list for the opening announcement, the launch of Z's formal Web site, and our post-opening newsletter.
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