Life, on the Line by Grant Achatz (leveled readers .TXT) 📗

good thing. That means that no one else has probably done this. I’m telling you it would be fantastic to get you and the crew doing a French menu one season and a Thai menu the next. People would show up for that. The goal would be, let’s be the best Italian restaurant in Chicago for three months, then the best Chinese restaurant. It would be audacious, difficult, and fun as hell. Plus we’d get to do research trips!”

Quietly, we started searching for real estate and going back through the plans that we had created as proposals for other developments. Among them was a plan for a lounge for the Trump building in Chicago. As we found real estate that didn’t fit a restaurant, I started pushing for the lounge. Cocktail development is an area that I hadn’t explored much but where I could see the possibility for innovation on par with what we had done at Alinea. Plus, the food concepts wouldn’t fight with Alinea—the two wouldn’t be compared.

One deal was almost signed for the lounge and details began leaking out in the press—apparently, the building owner wanted to drum up business for his other empty spots next door. But just as I was digging into how to arrange a drink-kitchen there, Nick called me. “I found a better spot just down the street. And guess what? It’s actually two spots. We can do both.”

“Both? As in, the restaurant and the lounge?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I think it works even better.” He explained the lease structure and the space. I drove over and was surprised by how well it could work physically.

“You ready?” I asked.

“Yeah. I think we both are.”

The next day Nick sent me an overview of the project, which was just like the one we had sent to investors in Alinea. He likes to say that every great restaurant has a great story behind it, and it’s important to articulate that story. It began:

“Next Restaurant will explore the great cuisines of the world.

Whereas Alinea is about constant innovation, Next will be about constant exploration. Each season, Next will strive to be the best restaurant serving a world-cuisine in Chicago . . . the best French restaurant, then the best Italian, then the best Mexican.”

I read it and called him up. “I was thinking that we not only do a cuisine like ‘French’ but that we get really specific. Paris, the Loire Valley, Burgundy—they all have different cuisines. And then I thought, just like the Escoffier course at Alinea, we put a time on it. Paris, 1925.” Once I said that, I knew we had it. Everyone would immediately understand what we were doing there. It is one thing to say we are serving French food this season. It is another to say Rome, 1948 when you’re inevitably asked, “What kind of food is it?” Nick loved the idea.

“And this time, Chef, we’re doing the ticket thing. I’m telling you, it’ll be revolutionary because we can price it so low at off-peak times.”

“But what do we call the place? It should be about travel or places or maps, right?”

“What do you mean? The name is in the e-mail I sent you,” he said. So I looked again and saw “Next.” I had thought it was just a placeholder, as in, “Our next restaurant will be . . .,” and at first I didn’t like it. But it did answer the question of the changing menu and constant exploration. It was about what’s next. I told Nick that I got it but that we could find something better. He said, “No. It’s not really just about that.”

He was right.

For a long time I had worried about what was coming next. Then for a short time that felt very long, I didn’t think I had a future.

Now every time I was asked, “What’s Next?” I could finally enjoy coming up with the answer.

Not a bad reminder.