I Devoted My Life to the Restaurant Industry and It Nearly Killed Me — Here’s What Should Change

I’ve been out of the restaurant business since the middle of 2019. Former guests still approach me in grocery stores to ask, “So, when are you going to open another restaurant?” My pat answer is “I’m done with that life.” But every now and again, I get wistful for the business, and my continual search for what I want to be when I grow up starts talking to me about concepts I’d like to develop. 

But the business almost killed me, which is the part those well-intentioned folks who ask about my future are not aware of. I’ve been living the life of a “civilian” for over five years, and I like the parts of me that have been able to thrive again. Those folks know me as Greg the chef. They don’t know me as Greg, the bass player in a punk rock band; Greg, the perennial jiu jitsu white belt; Greg, the devoted dad to his furry kids; Greg, the much more present husband; or Greg, the guy who has finally had the time to get his mental health struggles under control.

I’m also Greg, the guy who loves cooking, knows quite a bit about it, loves sharing his knowledge, and people have told him he’s quite good at it. Balancing civilian me and chef me scares me a bit, as the industry has a way of making these mutually exclusive. When opening another restaurant starts sounding like a good idea, I also follow up those thoughts with what I would require to make that happen without getting into an all-consuming, unhealthy endeavor, not just for me, but for everyone involved. 

Keep it simple

First, I’d dodge trying to be unique or edgy. Yes, doing so put me on the national stage in my previous restaurants, but I’ve done that, seen where it goes, and it’s not who I am anymore. One of my dream concepts is a simple paninoteca — quality bread and salume from sources that know their craft and do it well. After that, it’s simply a matter of arranging the ingredients in ways that taste good. A simple panino can be a thing of beauty, and a chef doesn’t have to create every element on the plate. Another fantasy scenario is a simple brasserie, focusing on simple dishes prepared extremely well. A person can find their preferred deity in a well-prepared plate of steak frites.

Allow time to have a life

I’d also scrap the old models of management. In my time, chefs and sous chefs were expected to sell their lives to a restaurant, doing the majority of the heavy lifting, with their salaries replacing multiple hourly employees and avoiding paying overtime. I’d cap managerial positions at 50 hours or less, myself included. I have zero desire to give up everything I enjoy in my life for a job. I can’t expect anyone else to do the same. A work-life balance is non-negotiable and built into the culture from the start.

A living wage should be standard

Hourly employees would earn a livable wage. Would you take on a job that often requires nights and weekends for minimal chances of advancement, few benefits, and a wage that doesn’t pay the rent? That’s the former standard for restaurant work. In my area and many others, wages and the cost of living do not align. In my area, a person making $40,000 per year has to pay 40% of their gross wages to rent if they would like a one-bedroom apartment by themselves. You can’t expect someone to get behind their job role when they have to have at least one other job to live with any degree of comfort. 

Invest in the long term

If benefits exist in restaurants, they are a luxury typically reserved for management roles. Offering all employees the basics of emergency, prescription, and telehealth coverage is not a huge cost. Insurance and PTO are the minimum baseline of benefits. What’s the point of having insurance if you lose pay to use it? 

A clear path for advancement is also non-negotiable. Fostering dedication is tied to encouraging individual growth. I’ve been guilty of this in the past. I’ve wanted to guide people to higher-ranking positions, but I did a poor job of explaining how they would get there. This lack of clarity led to frustration on their part, and they usually left. Employee turnover is far more expensive than retaining and building an existing team. There would be clearly defined goals to attain, and a mentorship mentality to get people to each milestone.

Turn the tide of turnover

All of these ideas take startup money, but pay off in the end. It’s great to think about building an environment where everyone thrives, but it takes additional capital. Many folks fail to budget for these ideas and therefore implement them sloppily, if at all. Accounting for them as part of the startup costs should be part of the business plan.

I’ve thought about this a lot, even going so far as to write pro forma accounting for a couple of concepts to see if this could be realistic (it can) By providing a positive work environment where employees can grow and thrive while not worrying about the pressures of unaffordable rent or medical care, you minimize the greatest labor cost — employee turnover. 

People leave jobs when they don’t feel valued or respected. Replacing an employee costs more than ensuring your current people are happy. Moreover, turnover begets turnover. A two-week notice is a courtesy, and not a requirement. Suppose your staff constantly has to step up and cover for people who’ve unexpectedly quit. In that case, they will feel the extra burden without additional compensation, and they, too, will leave to find a better environment for themselves. 

If I put all these factors in place, I could create a healthy environment for myself and my staff. But that’s just the minimum for getting me back into the fray. I’d also require cool shirts, a bitchin’ playlist, and my logo on some plates or something.