Full Disclosure: Things Have Evolved

When I started writing about this adventure, the plan seemed relatively straightforward.

Retire.

Open G&C BBQ Company.

Spend my days cooking food I love for people I enjoy being around.

Simple enough.

Well, things have evolved.

I'm working on opening two restaurants now.

There's a story behind how that happened. Actually, there's a pretty good story behind it. Buildings, tenants, timing, opportunities and a few decisions I certainly wasn't anticipating when this whole thing started.

We'll get into all of that later.

For now, the important part is that I'm working on two concepts:

G&C Sandwich Company.

And, sometime thereafter:

G&C BBQ Company.

Same G&C.

Two very different restaurants.

And, somewhat unexpectedly, I now have an opportunity to build the Sandwich Company first.

The more I think about it, the more I believe that might be one of the best things that could have happened.

Learning to Walk Before I Run

I should probably make something clear.

I've spent a lot of my life around restaurants and food. I've worked in restaurants. I've been to culinary school. I've cooked for more people than I could possibly count. I've studied restaurant operations. I've eaten my way through a good portion of the planet.

I've also spent decades in business.

But I've never owned and operated a restaurant.

Those aren't the same thing.

I don't know everything I need to know yet to make either of these restaurants successful.

I will.

By the time those doors open, I intend to know every damn thing I possibly can about the food, costs, equipment, staffing, service, systems and economics behind them.

But I'm not going to pretend I'm already there.

That's actually one of the reasons I'm so excited about the possibility of opening G&C Sandwich Company first.

It's a smaller concept.

A more focused menu.

A smaller kitchen.

A smaller staff.

Less capital.

Fewer moving pieces.

But all of the fundamentals of running a great restaurant are still there.

I still need to learn how much food to order.

How much to prep.

How to forecast demand.

How to control waste.

How to schedule people.

How to train them.

How to maintain quality when I'm not personally standing over every sandwich.

How to get food out quickly when 30 people walk through the door at exactly the same time.

How to handle takeout.

How to deal with vendors.

How to price things properly.

How to know when something that tastes fantastic simply doesn't make economic sense.

How to build a culture where people actually want to come to work.

And perhaps most importantly, how to make sure the 500th sandwich we serve is every bit as good as the first one.

Those are lessons I would much rather learn before opening the bigger, more complicated restaurant.

G&C Sandwich Company isn't going to be a practice restaurant.

It needs to be great in its own right.

But I can't imagine a better classroom.

So What Is G&C Sandwich Company?

This is where things get fun.

I love sandwiches.

I mean, I really love sandwiches.

There's something incredibly satisfying about a great stack of meat between bread.

And my definition of a sandwich is going to be pretty generous.

I love pulled pork.

I love corned beef.

I love a Memphis-style chicken sandwich.

I love the freshness and simplicity of a really good BLT.

Don't get me started on a proper Philly cheesesteak.

Or a classic Chicago Italian beef.

Or a really good chili cheese dog.

They're completely different foods.

That's exactly the point.

I want G&C Sandwich Company to bring all of those experiences under one roof.

I want somebody in Oconomowoc to be able to walk in on Tuesday and have a huge pulled pork sandwich, come back Wednesday for a Reuben, show up Friday for a Philly cheesesteak and then decide on Saturday that all they really want is a couple of great chili cheese dogs.

Different day.

Different craving.

Same place.

I'm Going to Steal

Okay.

Maybe "steal" isn't the right word.

Learn from.

That sounds much better.

But I'm also not going to pretend I'm inventing the Philly cheesesteak.

I'm not.

Philadelphia has had quite a head start on me.

Chicago seems to have figured out Italian beef pretty damn well without my help.

I'm not going to reinvent the Reuben simply for the sake of being different.

And I don't believe every sandwich needs some ridiculous collection of unexpected ingredients just so we can call it ours.

Sometimes somebody else already figured it out.

Respect that.

Learn from it.

Then make it yourself.

And if I think I can make it better?

I'm going to try.

Maybe that means better meat.

Maybe it's better bread.

Maybe it's a different cooking technique.

Maybe it's house-made pickled onions.

Maybe it's a sauce.

Maybe it's something distinctly Wisconsin.

Or maybe I make the classic exactly the way it deserves to be made and leave the damn thing alone.

The goal isn't to be different.

The goal is to be delicious.

Why Oconomowoc Needs Another Sandwich

I've eaten at most of the restaurants in Oconomowoc at this point.

There is a lot of good food there.

That's actually one of the things I love about the town.

I'm not opening G&C Sandwich Company because I think everyone else is doing something wrong.

I just think there's room to do sandwiches differently.

More specifically, I think there's room for a place that takes a bunch of sandwiches people already love and gets really serious about making each one exceptionally well.

Not 100 menu items.

Not a little bit of everything.

Great sandwiches.

Hearty sandwiches.

The kind of sandwich you need two hands to eat.

The kind where you look at it when it arrives and wonder exactly how you're going to attack the thing.

And enough variety that G&C doesn't become the place you visit only when you're craving one particular item.

That's what I want the Sandwich Company to be.

A neighborhood place.

A lunch place.

An early dinner place.

A place where somebody can stop in, sit down, grab something fantastic and be on their way.

A place where the people working nearby become regulars.

Where somebody eventually walks through the door and we already know what they're probably going to order.

That's the restaurant I see in my head.

Now I have to build it.

And Then There's G&C BBQ Company

The Sandwich Company may come first.

But the big dream hasn't changed.

G&C BBQ Company is still coming.

And interestingly, my thinking about it has become both more specific and less specific at the same time.

There are a few things I know.

I have one family BBQ sauce recipe.

That's where this whole thing begins.

I want that sauce to be one of the stars of the show.

Not one of 17 sauces sitting in squeeze bottles on a table.

One family recipe that has been part of my life for a very long time.

We'll probably develop some other sauces eventually. I enjoy experimenting far too much not to.

But that one matters.

I Know There Will Be Ribs

Baby back ribs are going to be on the menu.

I don't need six years of research to decide that.

I love them.

But I want them done right.

Tender, but not reduced to pork mush.

Beautifully seasoned.

Properly cooked.

Sauced at exactly the right point so that our family BBQ sauce becomes sticky and caramelized rather than simply being poured over the top.

That's one of the things I'm going to obsess over.

Then there are beef ribs.

A properly prepared beef rib is spectacular.

Unfortunately, I've eaten plenty that weren't.

A giant bone doesn't automatically make something good.

A great beef rib needs properly rendered fat, tender meat, deep beef flavor and a fantastic exterior.

If I'm going to put one on the G&C menu, it needs to be worth ordering.

I think it will be.

And BBQ Chicken

Oh, the chicken.

Properly brined.

Properly marinated.

Beautifully cooked.

Juicy inside.

Great exterior.

Finished with BBQ sauce.

My mouth is watering just writing about it.

Chicken is one of those foods that can be absolutely extraordinary when someone takes it seriously—and completely forgettable when they don't.

We're going to take it seriously.

What Else?

I don't know.

That's the answer.

Will there be brisket?

Maybe.

Pulled pork?

Possibly.

Sausage?

Could be.

Burnt ends?

Who knows?

I'm open to all of it.

But I'm not going to put something on the menu simply because somebody thinks a BBQ restaurant is supposed to have it.

I've eaten enough mediocre brisket to last me a lifetime.

If G&C can't make a particular meat exceptionally well, G&C doesn't need to serve it.

That's going to be a pretty simple rule.

Because I'm not just serving anonymous customers.

I'm going to be serving my community.

My neighbors.

My friends.

People I'll run into at the grocery store the next morning.

That's a wonderfully effective quality-control program.

The BBQ Company Lets Me Play

This may be one of the things I'm most excited about.

G&C BBQ Company gives me room to tinker.

The meats may ultimately be a relatively focused part of the menu.

But appetizers?

Now we can have some fun.

Sides?

Absolutely.

I've already spent more time thinking about coleslaw, pickles, fries and cheese curds than any rational person probably should.

And I've barely started.

Then there's the bar.

I want to build a genuinely great bar program—not a restaurant that happens to have a bar in the corner.

Great drinks.

Good beer.

A place where you might actually want to sit even if you aren't there for dinner.

And dessert.

I haven't even begun to figure that one out.

But if we're going to serve dessert, why shouldn't there be two or three things that make somebody at the next table stop their conversation when they see one go by?

That's the standard.

"I'll have whatever the hell that is."

That's the reaction I want.

Two Restaurants. One Philosophy.

The more I think about these two restaurants, the more I realize that they're very different expressions of the same idea.

G&C Sandwich Company is about taking sandwiches I love and getting them right.

Not making them fancy.

Not deconstructing them.

Not putting ingredients on them simply so someone can describe them as "elevated."

Just taking really great sandwiches, understanding why they're great, and seeing whether I can make them even better.

G&C BBQ Company is going to work much the same way.

Respect the traditions.

Understand the techniques.

Learn from people who have been doing this much longer than I have.

Then cook.

Taste.

Question.

Change.

Cook again.

And eventually figure out what G&C's version should be.

The food will be different.

The philosophy won't be.

There's Still a Lot I Don't Know

That's probably the most accurate update I can give you right now.

I don't know exactly what either finished menu will look like.

I don't know which experiments are going to work.

I don't know which things I'm convinced belong on the menu today will be gone three years from now.

I don't know how many times I'm going to completely screw something up before I get it right.

Probably a lot.

But I know what I want these places to feel like.

I know what standard I want for the food.

And I know why I'm doing it.

That's enough for now.

The rest can be figured out.

Actually, figuring it out is a pretty big part of why I'm writing all of this down.

Not a Bad Retirement Plan

I've spent most of my adult life working.

I've had a career I'm incredibly fortunate to have had.

I've traveled.

I've built things.

I've met extraordinary people.

I've eaten some incredible meals.

And somewhere along the way, I figured out something pretty simple about myself:

I really like feeding people.

I love cooking.

I love entertaining.

But more than anything, I genuinely love watching someone take a bite of something I made and seeing that little reaction that tells me they love it.

That's the payoff.

So apparently my retirement plan is now to open not one restaurant, but two.

Maybe I've misunderstood how retirement is supposed to work.

But if the next chapter of my life means spending my days making great sandwiches, ribs and chicken, experimenting with food, pouring drinks and serving it all to friends, neighbors and people I haven't met yet…

I can think of worse ways to spend it.

Actually, I can't think of many better ones.

Not a bad way to top off a pretty great life.