Row Away From The Rocks

Hedge your bets. Hope for the best when you strike out against the prevailing tide, but always guard against failure by moving to the middle of the road. Always have a Plan B. Subjugate the truly substantial things you could accomplish to the altar of solvency. Call on God, but...

I have been thinking about money lately. Non stop. There are, of course, two groups that think about money more than they should. Those who need it and those who have too much of it. Those who have just enough to not notice, well... they are very rare birds indeed. I want to be that bird. I know the consequences of financial failure first hand, but I also know the potential benefits of the high road.

I need to finance a restaurant and a magazine; a not insanely expensive, but not particularly cheap restaurant. But it's a place that I plan to put everything I have worked hard to understand about cooking together. It is stuck in my head and I can't get it out. And I have spent the last few years preparing for it. I've been in front of the camera and gotten people talking, something which believe me does not come naturally. I've stuck to my guns and stayed here and championed this place, my home, and I think have had at least some positive impact on our dining scene. And now I need to get back in the kitchen to finish the job. And I don't mean to be arrogant, but the region needs it too. I have spent the last decade, not just thinking about what I want to to cook, but what we should be cooking here, in this place, in a way that suits us here and only here. It's not about me, but us. And I think I've finally got a line on it. I don't know for sure, because we have to build it, cook in it, taste it, spit it out and start again. But I do know we are closer at this moment that we have ever been. And the only thing standing between us and a giant leap to the next level is cash.

And so I think about money. More to the point, I think about the good things that never happen in this world because they go un-financed. Not just the capital conceits like restaurants, but the charitable, ideological, environmental... we seem to have an enormous ineptitude when it comes to knowing where to put our  money. This is particularly shocking when you think about how much time and resources we apply to that very question. But it's true. We routinely spend our money poorly in the grand scheme of things. Sometimes we are too conservative, sometimes too greedy, sometimes just plain stupid. Mostly we are arrogant, especially when it comes to money. So many people who have money feel that it validates them, that somehow they have achieved expertise that is commensurate to their capital.

What I have learned is quite the opposite. I am repeating myself but it merits repeating: money rarely equals taste. Or intelligence. Or financial savvy, even. In my experience, those who have money are most likely in that position because of inheritance, greed, or dumb luck. Generally speaking, the rich are not a particularly impressive lot. Folks like Aubrey McClendon and Donald Trump should provide ample evidence to support my theory. Unfortunately, doing something with long term positive effects is of little interest to someone judging the quality of an investment by how quickly and aggressively it provides returns. So we languish in mediocrity, the rich get richer and buy more marble counter tops, and the rest of us dream of nothing more than an opportunity to really achieve. Change the world. Today. Not in a decade when the simpletons with cash finally figure it out, but now.

I think the fact that we live in a country that has such enormous wealth but still bumbles it's way so clumsily through first-worldism is proof enough that the current crop of resource intensive humans are not up to the task (just to be clear, this post is not a rant against my former employers). It can be too easy to load a chip on your shoulder when things aren't going your way, and I cannot honestly say that a few sour grapes have not influenced my current unsavory mood. But, gun to my head, even with the benefit of distance, I think what I say has validity. I think we are coming to a very important tipping point in western civilization: soon the market and the economy will no longer be two sides of the same coin. Soon, the market will consume the economy and the trend which already favors excess for the few will become the rule.

And the only way to stop it is to opt out. Start putting your coin in the purse of the guy who has no shareholder to answer to: the guy who answers to his client and his community. Become mistrustful of any relationship that does not include a face you recognize and a handshake you feel good about. Put your money into something you want to see in your community, something you know is going to make the world immediately around you a better place, instead of some faceless fund that is accountable to no one, especially you, and provides you little more than a few extra dollars.

You will never spend your money more wisely.

The Lateral Line

The post Reserve era has left me with the opportunity to do some things I couldn't fit into my schedule when I was working full time in a professional kitchen. For the past several years Amy has extolled the excellence of the Winter Beer Festival, but until now I was unable to attend. To say she was right is a gross understatement. This festival is everything a beer lover in the great white north would want. There are some 70+ Michigan breweries pouring their staples and some rare specialties (some were pouring beers made exclusively for the festival). The air was perfectly crisp and fat snowflakes lumbered drunkenly toward the ground. There was great music, an insurance adjuster's nightmare of a snow hill to romp on, roaring fires, smoked turkey legs, and for me, someone who has worked on the fringe of the craft beer industry, a chance to see friends I haven't seen in a while and drink their outstanding beer.

We stayed the night in a hotel in Grand Rapids the night before the festival and beer hooligans were filling the lobby bar. They are not hard to spot: typically a group of younger people, dressed simply and having a very good time, probably passing around a 750 of something good to drink. I think one of the things that is so appealing about the craft beer industry right now is it's youth. Many people working in the industry are quite young and even the old timers have a great vitality and energy.  The craft beer industry seems from the outside to be filled with happiness at a level you would surely never find in other professions. But these guys are pros, too. They smile a lot, converse generously, drink freely, but at the end of the day the job is done and done well. Pride in a job well done is crucial to being happy in your work. This seems obvious, I know, but too many people overlook it. 

I talk from time to time about how in Michigan we don't always spend much time taking pride in being who we are. When the local foods movement landed here, the food culture that surrounded it in its place of origin, the Bay Area in California, came with it. Cooking locally there meant cooking with a strong Mediterranean vibe. That's who settled the region. That's what the climate mimics. And thus, Cal-Ital is born. For some reason when Alice Waters' influence was felt here, her cooking style came with it. We asked our farmers to grow heirloom tomatoes (turns out tomatoes grow remarkably well here), we made fresh pasta, and made our own salumi. What I am beginning to discover, however, that our story, the story of the north, of pierogi, of apples, storage crops, and French and German charcuterie, is the story we should be exploring. The cooking of the north is becoming quite trendy in high end restaurants around the world as well. It is genuinely and truly fascinating. I think this is why the craft beer industry has grown into itself so successfully in Michigan, more successfully you could argue, than Michigan's wine industry.

Beer, if you buy into this lateral line of influence from Europe I'm proposing, was the alcoholic beverage of choice for the people of the North. As Michiganders, the descendants of the Germans, Dutch, Poles, French...we embraced it readily, like we were somehow predisposed to it. It came naturally and as a result, Michigan is the nation's craft beer leader (you heard right, Portland). And it is not that the North does not have a long and great tradition in winemaking, it's that the wine industry here, driven by market demand, has not until recently even begun to celebrate riesling or Gruner Veltliner. We still plant cabernet and merlot that doesn't belong here because popular tastes are so skewed toward fruit heavy big reds. In America, the great wine making traditions of the Mosel, Austria, or Alsace are often viewed as second class citizens. But this puts Michigan in a great position. If we get behind the things we do well and suit the land and climate, champion them, rise up against the prevailing tide and lead instead of follow, the wine industry here will be as unstoppable as California's.

In short, we need to take a cue from craft beer. It was not long ago that the idea of craft beer carving out a place in the market was viewed as naive at best. But Goliath fell and fell hard. It is nearly impossible to find an independently operated bar or restaurant that doesn't have at least one faucet dedicated to a local brew. It is not uncommon to find lists made up almost entirely of Michigan beers. This is success through honesty and self awareness. It works. It it will always work. It will be a guiding principal at St. Anthony. Thanks to all my friends in craft beer for lighting the path, showing us it was not so treacherous after all. A gift almost as good as great beer.