Recently, I was jogging through a quiet residential neighborhood in Boca Raton, Fla., during a business trip. As I passed a quaint pond with a red bridge, I saw in my peripheral vision a small alligator scurrying by.
Looking closer, I noticed it was some sort of iguana, and then I saw about a dozen reptiles all around this little vista. I was sorry I did not have my camera to capture a picture of the scene’s idyllic charm, especially since everything else I saw on that trip, I’m afraid, was not so idyllic.
No matter which commercial street I drove down, no matter what part of South Florida, I saw empty storefronts and lots of “for sale” and “for lease” signs. Residential neighborhoods were no better off.
I was in the region to talk to operators who are struggling because of the nasty economy, but the 30 or so folks I called prior to my arrival all denied any troubles. Most acknowledged that business is a bit soft, but not enough to be a problem.
The ubiquitous real estate signs and the rampant restaurant closures reported in the news belie that denial, however, and others uphold its veracity.
Steven Zuckerman, a mergers and acquisitions specialist out of Fort Lauderdale, Fla., contends that his firm, Farlie Turner & Co., is hearing of problems too late to shore operators up before they are forced to sell their businesses.
“This is part of the symptom of denial,” he said. “A lot of operators are suffering, and there is nothing wrong with going out and asking for help. If there is more time, they have a much greater likelihood of getting help.”
I think that denial is born of the eternal optimism many restaurateurs seem to possess. Given their passion to serve good food and see others enjoy it, they sometimes forget the impact external factors, such as the economy, can have on their businesses.
Erica Allums, who just opened a homey breakfast and lunch spot in St. Petersburg, Fla., called The Banyan Tree Coffee & Tea Co., is such an operator. Allums had to delay her opening because of a robbery and the threat of Hurricane Gustav, neither of which dampened her determination. Since opening, the restaurant has been packed every day as customers clamor for Allums’ limited menu of home-made soups and freshly made breads and scones.
Debuting a restaurant in the best of times is scary, so I asked Allums if she was nervous opening her first restaurant during a period of economic uncertainty. “No” was her answer.
“I feel if you serve just a few things well, and your product is fresh, competitively priced and yummy, people will keep coming,” she said. “So far, much of our business is repeat business, so we plan to keep doing what we are doing.”
I realize it’s not quite that simple, but certainly you have to start with that premise in any economy, idyllic or not.