My diary entries are designed to accommodate venting without excessive rhetorical polish. They may or may not go on to become columns. I've written the following in one sitting, without editing. It is appearing here, rather than at the NABC web site, because it's my personal reaction, and not official company policy. Read on. I've previously written about this here.
I’m no stranger to controversy, and I’ve seldom ducked a rhetorical scrap. Ask me a question, and I’ll do my best to answer it, as honestly as can be mustered. On rare occasions, the discussion must be private, but in general, public forums suit me.
It helps to be physically able to reply. I received the following observation via NABC’s web site comment form. Through the wonders of modern technology, these go directly to me, to be rerouted to others in the company as needed.
Needless to say, I’m delighted to explicate at length with Thomas as to his disappointment with Bank Street Brewhouse, but judging from the e-mail, it would seem that he desires his viewpoint to be one direction only, without my having the chance to reply. Let’s merely note that I find this reticence, well, curious given the stridency of his assumptions.
So, let’s just do the whole thing publicly. It’s better that way.
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Name: Thomas
Email: NoNeedToContact@gmail.com
Comments:
Thomas: Very disappointing what has happened at the Bank Street location in the past few months. Yesterday will be my last visit.
Roger: I’m genuinely sorry to hear that.
T: This used to be one of my special gems that I enjoyed taking clients and family to for years because of the uniqueness and quality of the menu. What has happened? It's gone from gastropub to gross to be honest.
R: At its most gastropubish, during the years of Chef Josh’s residency in the kitchen, it was proven that (a) Chef Josh is brilliant; (b) the clientele at the time was not prepared for such brilliance; and (c) the result was an ocean of red ink … and yet, we persisted.
From the very start, we’ve had a small kitchen and a delicate balance between what space and money are required to be a restaurant, and a brewery. In fact, the balance has been so delicate as to have been rarely achieved. Capitalizing a higher end FOH and a production brewery, together at the same time, has proven almost impossible. We’re not made of money. I wish we were, but you go to war with what you have, and what we have hasn’t always been sufficient.
When Chef Josh moved on, it was decided to concentrate more on the items that actually sold – like we’d begin looking at real costs and real sales when making decisions. While risking the continued use of the descriptor “gastropub,” which turns out to be almost as meaningless as the word “craft” when attached to beer, Chef Matt’s first two years showed progress in a bottom-line sense, until late in 2013; during this time, with at least two other establishments in New Albany (Exchange and Café 27) serving a similar menu and capable of capitalizing it WITHOUT also capitalizing a production brewery, we began having problems. More on this below.
T: No local products, nothing unique, nothing special, nothing at all some days because my last few visits, you've been out of half of the menu.
R: Nothing about the past months has hurt me more than to see the “local product” concept slip away from us. It was a cherished part of my original concept. I fought relinquishing it for a long time, until the numbers simply wouldn’t support it any longer. I regret it. But the first obligation we have as a business is to stay alive, not be dead. Nothing else can happen, bad, good or indifferent, when you’re dead. I’m genuinely sorry that it disappoints you, and I understand, because it disappoints me. As for being out of things, this has happened because we’ve been paying closer attention to purchasing and stocking as needed – something elementary, so as to avoid waste. Getting these levels right has proven challenging, especially with business increasing, as it has been.
T: What happened to fresh omelettes and prime rib on Sundays?
We ceased doing them because (a) actual sales did not once approach a point of adequate support for the wonderful presentation, and (b) this had the effect of bleeding money each time we did it. Let me repeat: They lost money. Do you understand that? It supposedly is a major point of capitalism.
T: Where is the fresh food? What makes it special now? Where are the specials? Where are the great burgers?
R: At the beginning, and for a very long time, we tried to lead – when in reality, we didn’t have the resources to do so. We kept at it as long as humanly possible, for almost five years, until it simply could be done no longer. As I’ve noted, if it disappoints you, just imagine how it disappoints me. And yet, we’re still breathing, and still throwing punches. The simple fact is that the menu changes implemented these past few months, while odious and deal-breaking to some (like you), have enabled us to (a) stay alive, (b) do so not only with no loss of traffic, but a slight increase, and (c) do so with food and labor costs that just might enable us breathing space to reformat into something that once again seems “special” to you. And maybe to me, too, but in the interim, I’ll take a reduction in red ink while we think about it.
What makes it special now is that being alive offers a chance to reinvent. If you had any idea how hard it is to reinvent and reformat in mid-air, knowing that debt service already was a bear before, and could become disastrous if you lose altitude … you might then grasp a bit of what we’ve been trying to do, and how damned difficult it has been.
T: With the exception of the beer (which is still the best) I have absolutely no reason to come now. I'm tired of being embarrassed when I take clients, and quite honestly looking at your staff - I think they are embarrassed to be there as well.
R: Thanks for the compliment about the beer. As for your staff critique, sorry, but you can fuck off. You don’t know how they feel, and you needn’t extrapolate your own disappointment (which I do not contest) into the bodies and brains of others.
T: I hope this is temporary and someone wakes up soon and realizes how the changes are making customers like me
feel. Until then, I'll entertain at the Exchange. Sorry for your loss.
R: I’m guessing you’re a business person of some sort, so maybe one more time making this point will do the trick: The awakening already has happened. It occurred when we realized that the gastropubish thing you personally like so much was not working given our situation, when trying to capitalize two expensive propositions at once, and then trying to adapt to a changing local landscape.
But hear this: The fact that the local landscape changed is immense consolation for me, and is a salve for my own disappointment.
We worked and bled for three+ years to make the advent of establishments like The Exchange possible. Without us, and a few other downtown pioneers, there wouldn’t be these other options, where you now take your clients and remind me of it in a comment without a valid return e-mail address. I don't want a medal for it, but it's true. Period.
Make no mistake, I’m happy for you; I love The Exchange and others just as much. I’m happy for me and for us that they’re there. I wish them the best. They all should buy our beer, shouldn’t they – being local, and all that.
But BSB could not continue down the same path given our future company needs, once our sacrifice helped clear a path for them, and nor should we, because it’s all just business, isn’t it? We do what we must to stay breathing, just like them, and I suppose, just like you. I accept your critique. Yes, I resent your attitude in light of your not being familiar with life in my shoes. But I congratulate you for coming to downtown New Albany, which is the larger point.
I know what you’re saying comes out of disappointment. If you’re disappointed, just imagine my level of the same. However, I know that what we’re doing is an evolutionary step. Exactly where it goes next, I’m not sure. It goes, and that's the idea. Your ideas, and anyone else’s, are welcomed. Thank you for probably not reading this, Thomas, although I feel much better after writing it.
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