The Family Owned Restaurant Disaster On April 6, 2013 2:49 PM By OnSite Team More often than not a family run restaurant is a recipe for disaster, defined by old strategies and a failure to evolve. It’s not that complicated. So tell me why everyone has to screw it up prolifically enough that I have to be brought in. The basic business model for a family restaurant is something like this: Sell the pizza for a decent price and don’t give anyone food poisoning. Everything above that is a plus. Yes, we all talk about the three pillars, good value, good experience, good food and yes, I do not need to be preached on the art of selling on the retention strategies – I am just saying it starts by being fair priced and decent or better. Which is a shame that restaurants nationally have set the bar so low, but who am I to argue with a bar that millions of consumers have chosen to be “okay” with. My life is a war against “okay” but let’s get your ship above water before we go to battle. Five leads a week roll into my inbox from family businesses wondering why they can’t pull it off. Go figure. Often these businesses have been around for 40+ years, handed down between generations, opened by the grandfather who made a killing in his heyday but he was the engine and he’s been gone for decades, leaving a restaurant that’s unable to move with the market. The family has an excuse for everything about why they are not making any money except their lack of agility. They wait until the business has sunk before calling mayday, the reasons are always the same: Pride and ego, can’t admit there’s a problem (because they are the problem), can’t grasp the impossible notion that even with 40 years experience they’re not the master operator they thought they were. They were self-proclaimed entrepreneurial mavens because they opened when there was no competition and offered decent food at a decent price when family dinner was enough to skate by on–even thrive on–enough that they hired their entire family. They stick to traditions which worked just peachy in 1893, why not today? They either assume they don’t need to innovate or are afraid of it because innovation equals uncertainty. Beats the hell out of the certainty that comes with becoming obsolete. For those inherited restaurant owners, who believe it’s in their blood, who tell me how they took their first step in the kitchen next to the deep-fryer, how they were running the restaurant before they could eat solid food, well, they’re mislead, and it’s their own lack of willingness to admit defeat is wrecking your grandpa’s legacy and the livelihood of your entire inept family. No one knows what their doing so when there’s an argument, it’s solved by grand voices booming across the restaurant, maybe 1% of customers think that’s part of the charm of your family, the rest are Yelping your competitors. Your stubbornness is not charming, not unique, and when I arrive it’s my nightmare that for some reason, I’m always drawn to, addicted to the adrenalin, to proving I wont be pushing a boulder uphill with no end in sight. The owner is my biggest obstacle and if they can’t be moved, I don’t keep pushing; I have the next lead leaving voicemail already and I will stick to the ones willing to change. So your lineage-based leadership isn’t working, your staff is run on nepotism and you’re stuck in the past. You can’t sell your pizza because you can’t draw in customers and, strike two, the customers who do show up hate it because your son doesn’t know how to maintain health standards or he’s too lazy for all his entitlement to do good work. Don’t tell me about your loyal customer base, the people who loved you in 1957 are disappearing and they did not include you in their will. You think maybe we need to do some customer succession planning? The family biz model does bring some complications that aren’t found in more cut-throat corporations. It has benefits that can easily cross that line where the things that started as assets become hindrances. During a turnaround, I spend only a few days inside the actual restaurant, so I need to know before I arrive which elements are still advantages and which have become a problem. You are running a business, not a charity, and you’re going to operate far below capacity if you keep someone in a position of ineptitude because they are related to you and need a job or because you are saving money by having them perform a task inferiorly that a new hire is more trained, passionate and capable to accomplish. If you have staff on your roll that could not get the identical or better position in a bigger restaurant operation then they are not qualified. If they’ve never worked outside your restaurant then they’re like this Shin Dong-hyuk kid who was born in North Korean Prison Camp 14 and didn’t know the world was round. They have no experience in the market place, they have no data or intelligence with which to make strong decisions. Might be natural-born innovators, but have no resources or comparative experience. Ideally, every family member is more invested in the success of the business than any stranger could be, but we don’t live in an ideal world. A good owner and/or manager knows how to motivate and incentivize any and all employees to be as interested in making that restaurant perform at its peak as if their own name were on the deed. Relying on the loyalty of family members is a thinly-veiled indolence of an owner who can’t be bothered to cheerlead a staff who doesn’t share their heredity. The money you should spend on that qualified employee will be more than made back in a smoother business function and morale of the rest of the staff who doesn’t have to waste their time cleaning up the messes made by your relative. I’d love to see a family that can work as a solid machine, where each person is the best at what they do and are in that position in that business because no one in town could do it better. I’d love to see everyone passionate about maintaining the integrity of the family name, about delivering a quality experience and in strengthening the brand that they have ownership of. Alas, too often I find that I’m being called in with an expectation that I’m to perform an act of alchemy in a group of people that have no interest in it, won’t listen, won’t follow through and certainly won’t adapt and learn. I figure out the fortitude, stubbornness and loyalty of a family staff by hitting them with a methodical abrasiveness, confronting them head-on and with no hint of the great cuddler that I truly am because if the introduction is too harsh and doesn’t warrant a reply then I know out of the gate I cannot work with them. I also need to be talking to the person whose ass is being poked by the point of the pyramid, not the family member who doesn’t hold a vote or the one who contacted me because she was not being listened to. When I get them on the phone, it’s the most aggressive and abusive process of explaining why they have failed and why they deserve to be in their current position. I have to hit it so incredibly hard, to get rid of the people that just cannot take it. If they’re not strong enough for brutal honesty, they won’t be able to do what’s needed to survive. identify the people that will recognize it’s up to them to do the turnaround, that I am purely the mentor guiding them because I’m taking off but they remain and they get the credit because that’s what they hired me to give them. I need their repentance, acceptance that there’s no one to blame but the owner, and a promise that they are willing to live at the restaurant until the mess is fixed. They do this and they have me as an ally for life. It’s not hopeless. I actually commit to about 15 family business turnarounds every year and when I do, low and behold, they come to life, sweep out the cobwebs and become a thriving business. The humble ones who see the light thank me throughout the process, the stubborn ones who get their feelings hurt yet tough it out thank me after their collectors get off their back and they have money in the bank. I love it either way, very fulfilling. With all that said, I love you, I love what you do and I love the passion you have, that desire to succeed. I understand sometimes I just have to shove you in a corner to make you fight your way out, to take off your blinders and show you the hideous world around you because it will inspire you to make it better. Still love me? Great, I’m ready… Written by: OnSite Team on April 6, 2013.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Mar 2014 13:13:59 +0000
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