What business can learn from a small restaurant in Lisbon
Kanazawa opens everyday for dinner. On a good day, it sits eight customers. On a bad day too. How a tiny restaurant with pricey menus, slow service and a strict reservation policy is challenging its industry’s dogmas.
The story
Tomoaki Kanazawa started cooking in 1985. In 1993 he was invited by the Japanese Ambassador in Portugal to come to Lisbon as the Embassy Chef. Years later he opened his own restaurant, Tomo, that would become a reference in traditional Japanese cuisine in Lisbon.
However, Tomoaki wasn’t happy. He believed that when customers visited his restaurant they should feel as if they were eating at someone’s home but, because he was serving over 100 meals at lunch and dinner, he couldn’t spare a minute to be with them, so he couldn’t provide them with that kind of experience. So he took a bold step: he left Tomo to his employees and, together with his wife Kayo and his daughter Sakura, he opened Kanazawa, the 8 seat restaurant that set up a whole new standard for high end cuisine in Lisbon and may well become a business case study.
The management lessons
1. You can make customers work for your product
Kanazawa’s first management lesson is that you don’t need to make your customers’ lives easy, what you need is to have a product they want so badly they will work hard to get.
The waiting list is months-long. When I was there in November, I overheard a fellow customer saying that he was trying to make a reservation since August. Not only that, but the booking experience is in itself a challenge. You can’t book a table over the phone, the reservations are to be made online. After providing your contact information, you must select three alternative dates for your visit. Then, you have to confirm that you agree with the cancellation policy, which states that, if you cancel your reservation in the 3 day-period prior to the confirmed date, you will pay a cancellation fee, which starts at 60% of the price of the menu if you cancel 3 days before and rises up to 100% if you cancel on the same day. After confirming your agreement, your credit card number is requested, which is to ensure that, if you actually decide to cancel within that 3-day period, the fee is credited from your account.
Finally, you must choose one of the four different menus, prices ranging from 60€ to 150€. It is almost impossible to grasp the differences between the menus, as the dishes names are in Japanese and there are no pictures to illustrate them. Calling the restaurant won’t work either (I tried), as the language barrier is there too. My very simple solution for this complex problem was to google every dish on each menu, go over the available pictures, and create a global understanding of what to expect.
This extenuating process sends a strong message to the customer: The restaurant is opening for eight people only, and you are one of them. From the moment we accept your reservation, we are deeply committed to provide you with the best experience we can create. Make sure to honor your commitment too. It might sound harsh, but it is easy to understand if you refer back to Tomoaki’s vision: when you visit his restaurant you should feel as if you were eating at his home. So think about it, if you were invited to an 8-guest dinner party at a friend’s place and he was counting on you to bring the wine, would you lightly cancel on the same day?
2. You can invest time on your customers
Kanazawa’s second management lesson is that time spent preparing and delivering a personalized experience to your customers is never — ever — wasted.
When I arrived at Kanazawa, Kayo took my coat and showed me where I was supposed to sit. While I was seating I was stunned to notice that there was a small, handwritten name tag with my name on it, right next to a line-up of the courses, also handwritten, with that day’s date on it. It is a small gesture that immediately makes you feel special and welcome. Someone took the time to write this for me, I thought.
The eight seats are placed around the sushi bar. Tomoaki served the first course, calmly explaining what it was, where the ingredients came from (more on that in a second), and how to taste it. The ritual is repeated every time a new course is served. Even though he alternates between groups of customers, he is able to make each group feel unique, as if he was there just for them.
At Kanazawa desserts are cooked by Kayo, so she takes over when the time comes to serve and explain them. She goes individually to each group and speaks in a really soft, delicate manner, that somehow makes you feel all the careful dedication that was put into each of the tiny portions of cake, mousse and ice-cream, all made from local ingredients. She then brings in a small portion of handmade candy, served in a mirrored-plate and accompanied by the tiniest origami I’ve ever seen (someone did this for me, I thought). Before leaving, you still get a package of homemade cookies to take home.
The whole service is perfectly adapted to the rhythm of each group, as if someone was keeping an attentive eye to make sure that you would neither be rushed nor have to wait too long. This probably has something to do with the fact that Tomoaki designed the whole experience based on the Japanese tea ceremony inspired by Sen no Rikyu. I arrived at Kanazawa at 8.30pm and left at 11.30pm, feeling that it was still 9.30pm, just like would have happened if I was having dinner at some old friend’s place. Tomoaki and his family spent 3 hours of their evening with me. And I can’t wait to go back.
3. You can work with your family
Kanazawa’s third management lesson is that working with your family doesn’t have to be a tense experience for all of those involved — it can actually be quite peaceful.
If you’ve ever watched or read about Netflix’s Chef’s Table, you know that family plays a big part in Chefs’ careers. Families can either be the solid foundation or the constant source of pressure, questioning, and regret for great Chefs around the world.
Kanazawa employs three people, and they are all related. You might expect that this simple fact could in itself result in a not so simple work dynamics, but that is not the case — at all. In fact, all the processes and rituals are so well coordinated among Tomoaki, Kayo and Sakura that you barely hear them speak to each other. Or get into each other’s space. Sakura mostly helps her father in the kitchen, but she doesn’t need to be told what to do. She just knows the rhythm and plays according to it. She moves graciously at precise moments. Kayo works her way around customers, picking up finished courses, delivering new tableware, serving tea, so discretely that you can barely hear her steps. It’s almost as if they are dancing a secret family dance. You don’t know the moves but it is just beautiful to watch.
Their working choreography not only looks peaceful from the outside, it actually makes you feel calm and relaxed, as when you visit a couple of friends at their place and they naturally take turns going to the kitchen to prepare the meal, just to make sure that you are not left alone in the living room. One of them is always keeping you company. That’s how you feel at Kanazawa too.
4. You can buy from local vendors
Kanazawa’s fourth management lesson is that it is possible to run a successful business making it a principle to buy from small local vendors.
Tomoaki not only selects Portuguese fish for his restaurant, he makes sure that each species’ origin is well-known to the customers. One of the highest moments of the dining experience comes when he opens up a wood box containing different fish species, perfectly cut and prepared, and talks in great detail about the provenience and seasonality of each of them, so that the customer can make a well informed choice about the nigiris he should prepare. Most of the vegetables and fruits used have Portuguese roots too. What his suppliers have in common, beyond the nationality, is the compromise towards sustainable production.
This is one direct consequence of Kanazawa’s very unique operating model. Working in a 100-seat restaurant means preparing food three or four days in advance. You don’t actually know how many people will come (even those who made a reservation can cancel or simply don’t show up) and what they will eat, so you need to have a huge stock in place and proceed with as much setting up as possible. Tomoaki, on the other hand, not only has eight customers per night, but he also knows beforehand what they will be eating and he can be quite sure that they will come. So he can focus on preparing the best — not the cheapest nor the fastest — meal his customers can have, and he can buy fresh ingredients and source them locally.
Isn’t that what anyone who has guests over does? Buying ingredients from a market or supermarket that is trustworthy and close to home and preparing the meal just before the guests arrive? If you’ve ever been in the host position, you know how good it feels to look for and cook the best ingredients you can find. But as a guest, you also know how good it feels to have a simple but thoughtful meal put together just for you. And this is where Tomoaki’s brilliance reveals itself once again: you feel that, by putting all this focus in looking for the best ingredients, he is concerned with putting a thoughtful meal together for you.
. . .
All in all, Kanazawa’s main take-away lesson for business is this: if you have a strong vision for your product, invest your time on crafting and delivering a personalized experience for your customers, create a safe and calm working environment, and stay true to your principles, you can focus on what really matters, which is to turn your work into a permanent state of passion.