
When I was in college, some friends and I routinely met at a very small, out-of-the-way Mexican restaurant several miles from campus. I loved the place, and not just because the salsa was homemade and it served breakfast tacos all day. I loved it because every time I stepped out the door on my way out, I found I was in a better mood than I was when I walked in.
The property itself wasn’t impressive. I never asked any of the people who worked there whether it was true, but from the outside, it appeared to once have been a vehicle repair shop. Once inside, you immediately noticed how small a space it really was and how close the tables were to one another. You also noticed that the place was packed. The place was always packed, and with all sorts of people—college students like me, families, lone businessmen, construction workers, and couples, young and old. It was a family business, and the servers there treated everyone like family. You didn’t even mind when one of them bumped into your rickety table and inadvertently spilled your iced tea. Mishaps like that, which happened quite frequently due to the lack of space, only seemed to add to the place’s charm.
The close proximity of the tables also made it impossible to ignore the other patrons. You knew what they were ordering, heard their conversations, and more often than not, wound up being a part of their dining experience, and you, theirs. Even if people tried to ignore their neighbors at first, inevitably, as soon as the food came, they’d turn to the nearest onlooker, roll their eyes, and start talking about how unbelievable everything tasted. Yes, the other patrons would agree, the food is amazing, and they’d start recommending other things on the menu that must be tried.
I’ve dined in plenty of fine restaurants, enjoyed wonderful meals by award-winning chefs, and had truly excellent restaurant service experiences. Still, I probably think about this one little Mexican restaurant more than I think about any other eatery. The food was that good. The experience was that unique. The servers were that memorable. I even remember some of their names: Eddie, Marisa, Tomás.
I’ve often heard FreemanGroup’s founder, Bill Freeman, remark that those of us in the hospitality industry tend to overcomplicate service when what good experiences boil down to are the basics: good products, good service, and good memories.
Whenever I’m talking to a restaurant owner or manager about FreemanGroup’s training, measurement, and other service solutions, I think about Bill’s remarks. If you take an objective eye to all of our solutions, all very pointed, thoughtful, organized, and results-driven, you begin to see that they are really just ways for owners, managers, and service teams at larger organizations to get back to service basics and reclaim the things that enabled their businesses to gain widespread popularity in the first place.
I like the idea that by applying all of the right modern service solutions and technology available in an intelligent and genuine manner, even large organizations can go home again—at least, metaphorically. The more I think about it, I like the idea a lot.
Time for margaritas!
-Batya




