Have you ever mucked up at work? I mean, mucked up? To the point you consider going into hiding, such is the blush-inducing agony of it all? I have. I dumped it to a world-class standard on one occasion in my career. And I’ve decided to tell you about it. I’ve written about several money-making success stories I’ve been a part of over the years. But I’ve never shown you the other side of those coins. It feels unnatural; like folding your arms the wrong way (go on, give it a try). I’m sure, like me, you’ve sat in many a business briefing where the leader of said business was asking for more innovation; welcoming, almost encouraging, the failure new ideas can sometimes bring, their words accompanied by a quote to give them added gravitas. Like the Woody Allen one: “If you’re not failing every now and then, it’s a sign you’re not doing anything very innovative.” Yeah, cheers boss, but I have a feeling if I do fail, you might just fire me for it! Fortunately for me, when I dropped my uber-clanger, the P45 didn’t follow. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to think back and remember the lessons learned, as they shaped so much of what followed for me, and you might just find them useful too. Right, curtain closed, shutter open, let the confessional begin. “Forgive me friends, for I have failed.”

 

It was 2012. Remember that year? I think of it as “Peak Britain”, such was the sense of pride and togetherness at the time, spearheaded by our hosting of the Olympics and Paralympics. And within weeks of the cauldron being lit in east London, I reopened one of three Beefeater restaurants we’d converted to a new version of the proposition we were trialling. Beefeater? Yeah, I know, not the sexiest brand in the sector, but it made good money, and we’d seen an opportunity to make more by re-connecting the brand with its roots in steak. In its heyday, it had been famous for this, but in more recent times, lost its way. Now brace yourself, here comes a highly retro piece of advertising featuring TV grumpy-bloke Geoffrey Palmer to make the point: https://vimeo.com/794884401

 

I imagine there was a version on the cutting room floor where she chinned him. But while his delivery may have dated, it turned out the thrust of Geoffrey’s point had not. When we did our homework, we discovered steak was still a compelling food hook for the brand. It was a treat, people didn’t feel confident cooking it at home, and with all the cuts and styles of preparation available, there was so much to be explored. The level of love among existing guests for what we currently offered felt low, so the risk of change felt equally so. Gaucho and Hawksmoor were thriving, Flat Iron had just got going, and we could see a gap in the mass-market for a steak focused enterprise. Easy then. We’ll hook back on to steak, make that the focus of everything we do and re-invent our offer accordingly. Eating beef was in our name, after all. We also played into the British DNA of the brand, reflecting this in our tone of voice and across parts of the menu, particularly the puddings. The changes we made were significant – a radically simpler menu, updated kitchen and cooking platform, new restaurant design, a revised service style and overhauled end-to-end experience, all wrapped up in new branding, and all built around steak.

 

We converted our three chosen sites in a matter of days – in Ashford, Birmingham and Burton – and couldn’t wait to see how much everyone loved what we’d done, such was our confidence in the whole venture. Cue the needle scratching off the vinyl. The first few days of trade signalled all that was coming. The speed of reaction was faster than anything I’d seen before. Did we attract new guests? Yes. Did we lose herds of the guests we already had? Yes. Netting one off against the other, did our sales go backwards at a rate of knots? Yes – by a good 30%. Gulp. The Beefeater natives were restless. Perhaps my most telling moment was in Ashford, as I sauntered across the newly refurbished restaurant, just in time to hear a regular guest asking my colleague: “What idiot has made all these changes?” Yep, that would be me, sir. Now that was a sobering conversation. And once I’d taken the time to reflect on what he’d said, I couldn’t disagree with him. But like an overcooked rump, it was hard to digest.

 

Now, I had been prepared for failure several years earlier. While working at Egg, we’d been coached by a chap called David Pearl on using the skills of theatre and performance to inspire an audience and drive action. One of the techniques he shared centred on how live performers recover when things inevitably go wrong. So, there we were in groups of three, throwing a long stick to each other, vaguely wondering what this actually had to do with our job. “Pass it with a flourish, try and get some finesse into your throw,” said David as he encouraged us before, inevitably, one of our group dropped the stick. “And freeze,” he said. The penny dropped – we were in the money business after all. There we were in various contorted states of panic.

It’s human instinct to flinch when something goes “wrong”. David’s point was simple, and one I’ve never forgotten. Learn to celebrate dropping the stick. React positively, not negatively. And in this particular instance, shout at the top of your voice, and with a big smile: “I’ve dropped the (expletive) stick!” He actually made us do that. It was such a powerful insight. And now a good decade down the line, here I was much in need of it. So, I stood in the middle of that restaurant in Ashford and shouted: “I’ve just dropped the…” No, don’t worry, I didn’t. But I did take time reflecting and learning from the whole experience of failure, and I want to share a few of my key insights with you now. What did I learn?

 

1. Eat one bite at a time: On a practical level, it’s smarter to trial new ideas in one place and extend from there. When you have several trials live from the get-go, any errors you’ve made are multiplied, and if there are significant issues to solve, that only makes it worse. You spend as much time firefighting as you do learning. Start small, learn and fail fast, then extend from there. Incubating in one place makes it easier to gather with the team and learn alongside it too. Going a little slow(er) to go fast really does work.

 

2. Beware of false comforts: Research won’t tell you everything. It can be misleading. All our insights suggested what we had would be a slam-dunk success, but research rarely tells the whole story. How many groups would Wagamama sail through as a concept given all the rules it breaks? But look now successful it’s been. Research has its place but needs balancing with instinct and the views of people around you – the more angles you look at it from, the more you see, the better the result.

 

3. It’s good to talk: Now there’s an iconic ad-line from the 1990’s. But it’s true. And talking to the people that actually run your business is essential. If I’d taken more time to do that, I’d have heard many of the issues we experienced played back before we created them. Numerous chief marketing officers have gone before you, each fizzing with new ideas. Your colleagues have seen this and carry the insights (and scars) with them. All you need to do is ask. And, of course, it means when the changes do land, they own them with you.

 

4. Value what you have: Don’t take your existing guests for fools. Was our brand perfect? No. But did people already enjoy what they were spending their money on? Yes. And that loyalty must be retained to grow. This is in part an “ownership” thing. In the 1980s, Coca-Cola changed its recipe to a disastrous reception, coming to realise it was playing with something people felt they owned. It was much the same here. It’s amazing what a VIP preview evening does to engage existing guests, even when most of the changes are the same. Sometimes, all people need is to be asked.

 

5. Choose your leaders carefully: The people at the top of your pile matter. In my case, they were Paul Flaum (managing director) and Andy Harrison (chief executive). I can recall vividly the executive committee meeting where I shared the performance on these trials. I was mortified. Andy’s reaction? He paused, met my gaze and said: “Okay, well it’s going to take a little longer to crack this, so make sure you have enough in the tank to trade the business while you do that. Don’t lose your nerve and keep going.” I already knew Paul was equally supportive. Their attitude was pivotal in giving me the courage to drive forward – and it worked.

 

6. Learn to celebrate dropping the stick: Now, you can only do this one if the leaders above you are the right ones – otherwise you most likely get fired for the sheer insolence! But David was right. When you feel comfortable to embrace your “mistakes”, it changes the tone and flow of the conversation, removes any awkwardness and gives everyone the freedom to learn and make changes. Less time covering up, more time moving forward. So, start rehearsing your speech for when the time comes.

 

How did this sorry tale all turn out? Well, we listened, learned and put our best foot forward a few months later – this time in Leicester – and our revised formula worked brilliantly. A sharpened restaurant design and layout, some gentler changes to the menu and softened branding did the trick, supported by better communications with our loyal guests.

 

Within a couple of years, the new Beefeater proposition had been rolled out nationally, including back into those first three sites we’d converted. That is a seventh lesson, actually. Be sure to go back to fix what you started. If you don’t, what signal are you sending to anyone considering being the first in any future trials? Our success here led to the development of Bar + Block, our high street steak format. That proved to be a phenomenal success and was all built on the insights from that initial failure. So, I guess Woody was right after all.

 

I opened with a provocative question. But if we’re to view the things we learn from innovation in those potty-mouthed terms, little will move forward. Repeatedly making the same mistakes is careless and worthy of that dreaded P45. Trying new ideas in the pursuit of something better is to be lauded and applauded. The key lies in daring to try. Ice hockey legend Wayne Gretzky famously lamented he missed 100% of the shots he never took. Just as stars of elite sport perfect their art as their career extends, so we all find better ways to finesse our own shots on goal as we progress through life.

Taking a plunge that risks sharing our weaker side will rarely feel comfortable, a risk amplified by the tide of social media we’re washed down with each day – a swell of people’s best bits that creates an illusion of perfection in a world that is anything but. Sometimes you just need to mess things up a bit; land in a place that’s less than perfect. In those imperfections lies the genius that moves us all forward. And it’s the privilege of leadership that unlocks it all. Because when your leader encourages you to believe in better and they believe it themselves, anything is possible. 

For UK hoteliers, the current financial climate poses an incredibly ambiguous prospect in terms of maximising revenue and identifying sustainable growth solutions. However, if the sector is to thrive long-term, we need to go full circle and continue a systematic focus on its people – those charged with carrying out the visions and wishes of hotel owners and general managers. 

 

Naturally, this creates a lot of uncertainty for hoteliers as many would assume the best way to resolve this issue would be through investment – but not quite how you’d think. Of course, it’s essential that workers are paid what their services warrant, although from my experience, if you want to protect your staff and keep them motivated, then money is only one part of the equation. 

 

According to a recent Glassdoor survey, more than half of today’s workers claim workplace culture was more important to them than salary. But why is this? Well, over the past 15 to 20 years, we’ve seen the restoration of credibility throughout the hospitality industry, which has been achieved via the investment in and development of its people. 

 

Indeed, we all crave that level of connectivity that keeps us invested and hungry to develop alongside our peers. I’ve experienced first-hand that feeling of belonging, needing to feel part of something bigger and wanting to feel something more than “it’s just a job”. This is the gold standard for any successful business model and a vital cog in the wheel of goals we collectively want to achieve. 

 

It’s that sense of ensuring your staff are at the forefront of your priority of needs and showing them value to build up their self-esteem and self-confidence, which they’ll return with commitment and loyalty. People need to feel good about themselves, which requires recognition and an acknowledgement of their services. 

 

Recently, at Stonehouse Court, we ran some sustainability workshops across the hotel and pulled together people from different departments to help collate ideas. Unsurprisingly, many were a little hesitant and sceptical at first to get involved, but once we broke the ice and made sure everyone felt comfortable, an outpouring of ideas formulated and multiple departments came to the fore, which was incredible to see. I think it’s that collective brain power that makes them feel valued and shows they’re a core component of the business, and the success that comes with that.

 

It’s very much a bottom-up strategy, in that each and every member of staff is critical to the company and how it moves forward, with listening and appreciating each individual’s ideas always being a priority. Equally, we need to ensure people feel part of that key decision-making process, particularly during times of such financial turmoil. As we come to that final stage of self-fulfilment and self-actualisation, people begin to feel they are achieving something within the business and wider community, which makes a massive difference. 

 

Work-life balance too has become an increasingly important priority for the business, especially since covid. Following such a tumultuous period, people have realised the importance of balancing work, life and rest. People work far better when knowing their job isn’t the be-all and end-all of life.

 

From a position of leadership, it’s important to have humility in your approach to everything and implement a strategy that understands work-life balance is of the highest priority. If we take the NHS, for example, staff are so stressed, overworked and undervalued that many are in a desperate bid to leave the sector.  This simply cannot be allowed to happen within hospitality, and we must continually re-evaluate and evolve our business practices.

 

That’s why it’s important, when in a position of influence, to ask yourself just how valuable are your staff? For me, they are my most valuable asset from a business point of view, so ensuring I value them and offer as much support as possible is unequivocal. 

 

As such, we are working on staff activities to build on that sense of togetherness such as breaktime walks, team runs, charity events and a host of other team incentives. The importance of mixing hobbies within the workplace should never go under the radar. We love to hear what our staff get up to and like to enjoy – it helps build that connection, which facilitates an all-important element of trust. 

 

During covid, we managed to navigate our way through the pandemic without losing a single member of our staff, as despite the countless uncertainties during that period, my faith in my staff was unwavering. During furlough, we continued to pay all staff pensions and tried to keep a sense of community through the general managers’ Whatsapp group, giving staff support and camaraderie during such a difficult time. We returned to a strong position, having retained a team of excellent, well-trained staff.

 

It all comes down to the hotel’s values and our passion for hospitality. Our sustainability focus has become more and more important over the last few years, and making sure we all still have our jobs in the next five years is crucial. Finding a balance is hard, as you’ve always got to consider the financial needs of both your team and customers. 

 

Ultimately, it’s imperative that we bind together, particularly during such a testing time for the sector as a whole. And if there’s one thing I’ve learnt throughout my position at Stonehouse Court, it’s that staff are the essence of the business, and the success of any business hinges on them – one cannot thrive without the other!

 

Hitting the tinder of Dry January, the drink question has again flared up in the first few weeks of 2023. Most urgently, the Scottish government is consulting, until 9 March, on new restrictions on alcohol marketing, stirring up consternation among the trade and consumers too – or at least the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA). 

It warns the plans could be the “biggest threat” to “good beer” in CAMRA’s 50 years of campaigning in Scotland, calling on the drinking public to make its voice heard. This is, perhaps, a surprising intervention given that advertising bans are likely to impact on global brewers (who presumably make the “bad beer”) the hardest. CAMRA used to argue that massive spends on the big lager brands especially were squeezing cask ale out of the market.

But it’s a sign of the potential broad scope of regulation suggested by the consultation document. There is even mention of “alcohol-branded merchandise including t-shirts, jackets and baseball caps as well as branded glasses”, an important profit stream for smaller brewers.

External advertising on pubs and restaurants is also in the firing line, although there’s little chance, in my opinion, that this means traditional signage will have to go. First minister Nicola Sturgeon (before her resignation this week) moved quickly to quell rumours that brand names on distilleries, a familiar part of Scotland’s land and seascape, will have to be whitewashed.

She also appeared to retreat from a ban on branded “merch” (as the young folk call it), saying that, as reported by The Scotsman, “there is a world of difference between a billboard… and a baseball cap”. All this suggests the Scottish government hasn’t really thought this one through. That means there’s all to play for.

At these moments, it’s usually the Scotch Whisky Association that steps up to spearhead the industry’s lobbying. In this case, that may be a weakness. Certainly, one public health body has seized on it. The Scottish Health Action on Alcohol Problems has enlisted Aveek Bhattacharya, of the Social Market Foundation, to produce a report picking apart the industry claim about how marketing bans will hit the Scottish economy. 

Bhattacharya was previously at the Institute of Alcohol Studies, where, I have to say, his intelligent approach tempered the organisation’s temperance stance. Here, he devotes almost all his energy to scotch whisky. Some 99% of Scotland’s whisky production is for export, accounting for 60% of alcohol’s contribution to the economy, he says. And a domestic ad ban will have little effect on sales abroad. Fair point.

The other 40%, he argues, is more than cancelled out by the cost of alcohol harm. Yet this cost is notoriously difficult to calculate. Bhattacharya himself quotes two wildly different estimates from 2007 and 2010, and therefore based on old data. Alcohol consumption in the UK began declining in 2004, and at a faster rate in Scotland, before lockdown disrupted everyone’s drinking. 

Which raises another issue. The pandemic leaves an alcoholic legacy. Latest Office for National Statistics figures indicate alcohol-specific deaths in the UK leapt 7.4% between 2020 and 2021 following several years of stability. This is a real cause for worry, and it’s fuelling the public health argument that’s driving attempts to curtail drinks marketing.

Lurking behind this are the headlines you’ll remember from the first lockdown, when it sounded like everyone was getting drunk. But we now have research that suggests most people’s response to shutting down their social life was complex and shifting.

Focus groups and interviews (I happened to be one of them) carried out in 2020 by Emily Nicholls at University of York and Dominic Conroy, of London Metropolitan University, reveal that an initial, reflex reach for the bottle was, after a while, replaced by sober reflection – literally in some cases, as some decided to go dry.

Nicholls and Conroy admit their sample was selective. It’s likely that other, vulnerable people, who already had a problem and don’t do surveys, used alcohol to medicate their pandemic anxiety. This could be one reason for the increase in alcohol-related deaths. Another may have been the difficulty in accessing alcohol treatment services already hit by cuts.

It’s a stretch to believe more marketing restrictions will tackle these issues, and indeed the Scottish government here is explicitly targeting those who aren’t already drinking – children and those in recovery who might be tempted. (There is a vaguer intention to undermine the “normalisation” of alcohol, a strange concept I must deal with in a future column).

For the rest of us, I don’t have such a low opinion of humanity to imagine we respond to advertising in any simple way – that we immediately rush out and consume whatever’s in the pretty picture in front of us. We’re better than that. 

Barnes might only be a mere ten miles from my house but it represents quite a trek across London, so I very rarely find myself in that part of town. But when I heard about the return of The Great Sausage Roll Off after its two-year break during the pandemic, I knew I had to make the pilgrimage to the home of this annual competition, in the leafy environs of this south London village.

 

The Red Lion in Barnes has been host to the competition for nine years, which this time around involved 16 different sausage rolls, cooked by some of the best chefs in the country. They were judged by a panel of experts including Daniel Clifford, chef-owner of Midsummer House restaurant; restaurateur Simon Rimmer, of Sunday Brunch fame; and UKHospitality chief executive Kate Nicholls.

 

Former MasterChef winner Mat Folas carried off the winner’s trophy for his Sunday roast-themed sausage roll, but his crowning at the end of a boisterous joy-filled evening seemed almost an aside, because the real winner was the pub and the wider hospitality industry. As well as chefs being able to show off their skills and enjoy a bit of playful competition, the event also raised money for charity through an auction, and local customers were able to attend what felt like a really special event.

 

For those locals along with guests, participants and judges present, it was certainly a memorable evening that highlighted all the things that are good about the pub – and also classic British cuisine, in this case. It’s such a super formula that I’m pleased to say there are variants on the theme. The oldest of the bunch is the Scotch Egg Challenge, which has traditionally been held at The Guinea in London’s Mayfair under the watchful eye of Oisin Rogers, who has been a great advocate for British pies over the years and who has clearly also been able to turn his hand to the Scotch egg.

 

A new entrant on to the scene came from the owners of the Kricket restaurant group, who recently launched the Fried Chicken Challenge. The inspiration for the competition came from the group’s signature KFC (Keralan Fried Chicken) dish. The event had the classic components of a judging panel including chef Kerth Gumbs of Sky Garden, critic Jimi Famurewa, of the Evening Standard, and a mysterious chief chicken officer from KFC, sampling the dishes from some quality contestants including chefs representing Around The Cluck, Claridge’s and Daffodil Mulligan.

 

Ticket revenues went to charity and the winning chicken dish came from the chefs at Black Bear Burger, a blue cheese stuffed chicken wing with fermented chilli hot sauce. The victory will no doubt give a boost to the winning team as it is placing the dish on the menu of its new 20ft Fried Chicken concept at Market Halls Oxford Street. 

 

Such events are undoubtedly hard work and need the enthusiasm of characters like Angus McKean, manager of The Red Lion; Rogers when he was at The Guinea; and Will Bowlby and Rik Campbell at Kricket to make them happen. But this work can pay off handsomely on multiple fronts.

 

I’m certainly hoping we see more such competitions, even if they are done on a much smaller scale. They clearly don’t necessarily need a judging panel packed with recognised faces, or a list of entrants comprising top chefs from around the country. Local community figures and chefs from nearby establishments could be tempted in to participate. The dish of choice could even be something of a local speciality.

These are tough times for sure, and these initiatives in pubs and restaurants undoubtedly resonate with customers and the local area. If the goodwill and bonhomie present at The Red Lion was anything to go by, then such competitions are a great opportunity to bring people together and reiterate exactly what the hospitality industry is all about. The only downside I can see is that since my visit to Barnes, I’ve not yet been able to even look at another sausage roll.