I'm sitting in a consulting session. Young restaurateur, first place of his own, three months in. He shows me his cost sheet and says with a dead-serious face: "Roelof, this plate garnish — it costs 5p per dish. That's too expensive. Can we drop it?"
I nod. Say nothing for a moment. Scroll further through his expenses.
Video shoot for an Instagram Reel: £2,100. One-off. Three months ago. The video got 340 views.
New chef uniform set with custom logo: £1,600. Because it "needs to look professional".
Best mate hired as "operations manager", zero hospitality background: full-time, £2,300 net.
But the 5p garnish. That's the problem.
"If you're arguing over 5p garnish while burning £2,100 on a video, you haven't understood your business — you've made yourself the product."
Ego as a line item on the P&L
This isn't an isolated case. I see it regularly — and almost always with operators in their first two years. There's a pattern:
- Money for everything that makes them visible: photos, videos, uniforms, branding, appearances
- Cost-cutting on everything that affects the guest: ingredient quality, table presentation, service details
- Key positions filled by mates instead of professionals
- Advice from the inner circle, where every idea gets a thumbs-up
No malice intended — it's human. When you open your own restaurant for the first time, the temptation is enormous. You finally have your thing. You want the world to see it. You want to shine. Understandable.
But hospitality doesn't work like that. Hospitality isn't a vanity project. It's a service industry with razor-thin margins, brutal competition and guests who can feel whether you're there for them — or whether you're cooking for your own Instagram profile.
Your best mate as operations manager
This is the topic nobody talks about openly — so I will.
In 30 years I haven't seen a single exception where "I'll hire my best mate as manager" worked out. Not. One. Single. Exception.
Why? Because friendship and leadership are two fundamentally different relationships. You can't pull up your mate when he's 20 minutes late. You can't sack him when he ignores the briefing. And he'll never tell you your idea is rubbish — because he's your friend, not your adviser.
So you're paying someone to agree with you every day. That's expensive. Not because of the salary — because of what it costs you when decisions go unchallenged.
The friend-zone advisory board
On top of that, there's the adviser ecosystem that forms around every new restaurateur like seagulls round a fishing boat.
The mate who "knows loads about marketing" and tells you that you absolutely need TikTok. The cousin who's "really creative" and takes over the menu design. The brother-in-law who "understands numbers" and wants to handle the bookkeeping. The old school friend who "once worked in a restaurant" and explains how mise en place really works.
They all mean well. They all cost you something — money, time, or both. And none of them has the experience you actually need right now.
"You don't need to be flashy as a restaurateur. You need to be good. The guests notice — and they're the only ones who count."
What successful operators do differently
The operators I've worked with over the years who actually grew — they have one thing in common: they stopped seeing themselves as the product early on.
The restaurant is the product. The guest experience is the product. The plate that arrives, the attentive service, the 5p garnish that shows someone is thinking about the details — that is the product.
Nobody comes back because of your Instagram. People come back because the food was good, the evening was lovely, the staff were attentive. And they tell others — not because your branding is brilliant, but because you gave them something they remembered.
And the video shoot?
I'm not saying marketing doesn't matter. It does. But in the right order.
Product first. Then communication. Not the other way round.
If your food isn't right, your service is weak and your team is overwhelmed — then the most beautiful video shoot gives you nothing but an expensive proof that you got your priorities wrong.
Invest in what hits the guest. The 5p garnish counts. The third Instagram Reel of the month doesn't.
- Your restaurant is the product — not you
- Friends as advisers: well-meant, usually dearly paid
- Optimise the guest experience first, then communicate
- 5p details matter — because they show you're thinking about the guest
- Whoever argues over pennies and burns through pounds has lost the plot
Recognise yourself in this? Or know someone who fits the bill? Drop me a line — I'm curious. And don't worry: I'm not judging. I was young once too. And I was also once convinced I was the dog's bollocks.
Roelof
