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This quarter, I chose Setting the Table by Danny Meyer for our leadership team to read. It had been on my list for a long time, and once I started reading, I knew it was the kind of book that would be worthwhile to sit with together.
Whether it’s a full book or a few select chapters, I continue to see the value in reading with the group. It gives us space to think about how we lead and what kind of company we’re building. It also helps us create a shared language. Even if we don’t agree on everything, we can reference the same ideas when sharing feedback, making decisions, or discussing our values.
We met earlier today to discuss the book as part of our quarterly planning session, along with aligning on key takeaways from our agency-wide debrief. It was awesome to hear how much everyone enjoyed the book and found it relevant to what we’re facing right now.
Right from the beginning, Meyer sets the tone:
“This is not a typical business book, and it’s certainly not a how-to book. I don’t enjoy being told how—or that—I ought to do something; and I’m equally uncomfortable doling out advice without having been asked for it. What follows is a series of life experiences that led to a career in restaurants, which has, in turn, taught me volumes about business and life.”
I appreciated this approach. When I first started writing, it was easy to fall into how-to content, assuming no one cared about my own experiences. Over time, I’ve learned the opposite is true. That’s what I loved about this book, the way you learn from Meyer through layers of his experiences. Watching his dad succeed and fail in business. Falling in love. Ignoring the naysayers while creating Union Square Cafe. The heartbreak of losing twin babies just hours after birth. The long decision to take on the MoMA restaurants. Managing through mistakes and learning from them. His leadership wasn’t shaped by one moment, but by many.
It made me think about how that’s true for most of us. Leadership takes shape over time. For me, that journey has included building a brand and business around my music as a teenager, managing peers at Wegmans, guiding students as a TA, signing up for my first powerlifting competition, and so on. These experiences continue to inform how I think and how I show up.
Some people try to draw a hard line between their personal life and work, but I’ve found that separation creates more friction than clarity. We are not two different people. What happens outside of work affects how we show up at work. This book reminded me how much we can learn when we stop pretending those parts of ourselves are separate. The more we let life inform our work, and work inform our life, the more we grow.
“I would enter the restaurant business with a potent combination of my father’s entrepreneurial spirit and my grandfathers’ legacies of strong business leadership, social responsibility, and philanthropic activism. And I would have a chance to give others two things I craved: good food and warm hospitality. I had begun to understand that business and life have a lot in common with a hug. The best way to get a good one was first to give one.”
This idea—that business and life are like a hug—is something I’ve had to learn throughout my life and career. I used to hold a lot in. I thought success meant keeping everything close to the vest, and leadership meant quietly keeping things in check behind the scenes. Over time, I’ve learned that giving first creates more trust and momentum than holding everything close.
In my role at Barrel, giving first can mean sharing the context behind a decision, leaning into a tough conversation, or opening up about a challenge. The more I’ve done that, the more the team has stepped up with ownership and confidence. Outlets like this newsletter and my Friday updates to the team have been helpful, as well as how I orient myself in team settings. Like any skill, though, it’s something that takes continued practice.
There’s a section in the book where Meyer shares the saltshaker theory. A mentor tells him:
“Your staff and your guests are always moving your saltshaker off center. That is their job. It is the job of life. It is the law of entropy. Until you understand that, you are going to get upset every time someone moves the saltshaker off center. It is not your job to get upset. You just need to understand: that is what they do. Your job is just to move the shaker back each time and let them know exactly what you stand for. Let them know what excellence looks like to you.”
Our entire leadership team highlighted this concept during our discussion, each with their own take. For me, it got me thinking about how I uphold standards and where I spend my energy to do so.
As I’ve taken on more responsibility as CEO this year, I’ve become more intentional about how and when I get involved. Not to fix everything, but to keep things aligned. To be specific when it matters. Not every project needs my input, but when I step too far away, things can drift.
It’s a constant calibration. It’s easy to overcorrect in either direction. I’m learning how to stay close in a way that still empowers the team. Sometimes it’s a follow-up question after a meeting. Sometimes it’s early feedback. Other times, it’s taking time to dig into something that seems fine on the surface.
Meyer calls this constant, gentle pressure, and he makes it clear that both elements matter. Constant pressure without gentleness burns people out. Gentleness without consistency erodes standards. You need both.
“I send my managers an unequivocal message: I am going to be extremely specific as to where every component on that tabletop belongs. I anticipate that outside forces, including you, will always conspire to change the table setting. Every time that happens, I am going to move everything right back to the way it should be. And so should you. That is the constant aspect. I will never recenter the saltshaker in a way that denies you your dignity. That is the gentle aspect. But standards are standards, and I am constantly watching every table and pushing back on every saltshaker that is moved, because excellent performance is paramount.”
Constant, gentle pressure is something I expect we’ll keep coming back to as a leadership team. In many ways, I find it freeing. It’s a reminder that the details matter—the tone of an email, the structure of a meeting, the look and feel of a deck.
My role is to set and model the standard and not be afraid to adjust when something is off. But that only works when it’s paired with trust. People need to know what good looks like, but they also need the space to get there in their own way. That balance is an art. I’m still learning what it means to stay on the periphery—not to be distant, but to stay close enough to notice what might otherwise go unseen.
And through it all, Meyer reminds us there should be joy in the work. If not, maybe you’re in the wrong business.
“Hospitality starts with the genuine enjoyment of doing something well for the purpose of bringing pleasure to other people.”
“Hospitality is a dialogue. To be on a guest’s side requires listening to that person with every sense, and following up with a thoughtful, gracious, appropriate response.”
“Dots are information. The more information you collect, the more frequently you can make meaningful connections that can make other people feel good and give you an edge in business.”
We have an opportunity to do more with the information we already have. Between client meetings, internal reviews, Slack threads, and email recaps, we collect a lot of signals. The challenge is turning those signals into action. That could mean leveraging AI to organize and surface insights. It could also mean carving out more time as a team to reflect on what we are hearing and how it might shape our future direction.
We can think of every client experience as a continuous dialogue. The better we become at listening, collecting feedback, and connecting the dots, the more we can tailor our approach to meet clients' needs, which will not only build trust but also strengthen our work.
“Many years later, a wonderful server who had been at Union Square Cafe for more than a decade told me that when she had previously worked for Mary Kay Cosmetics, Mary Kay would teach the sales people that everyone goes through life with an invisible sign hanging around his or her neck reading, ‘Make me feel important.’… The true champions know best how to embrace the human being wearing the sign.”
We could be more intentional about getting to know our client stakeholders. Not just their titles or responsibilities, but what they care about, what pressures they are facing, and what success looks like in their role. For one, creating a shared internal org chart with notes like this could help the entire team show up more thoughtfully.
Sometimes that means getting ahead of a request. At other times, it means packaging something in a way that helps them present it internally. Helping a client win at work, especially in a high-pressure environment, can sometimes matter more than the deliverable itself. Small gestures can have a serious impact.
“Hospitality is how the delivery of that product makes its recipient feel.”
At Barrel, we often move quickly from one thing to the next. A website goes live, a new feature launches, a big presentation wraps, and we’re already on to what’s ahead. But these are meaningful moments for both the client and the team. They deserve attention.
We have an opportunity to be more intentional about celebrating them. That might mean a short video from the team, a thoughtful message reflecting on what we accomplished, or simply taking a moment in real time to acknowledge the effort. These kinds of gestures were easier to pull off when we shared an office, but that same energy is still possible. The gestures don’t have to be big, but they just need to be felt.
“Communicating has as much to do with context as it does content.”
“Poor communication is generally not a matter of miscommunication. More often it involves taking away people’s feeling of control.”
This excerpt resonated with everyone during our discussion. In past jobs, we’ve all felt frustrated when decisions lacked context, and yet, we’ve all been guilty of the same as leaders. It’s usually not intentional, just a byproduct of moving fast or assuming people don’t need all the background.
A fun question to ask is: What am I not sharing? Why? Sometimes it’s to avoid slowing things down. Other times, it’s because we assume people already know. But sharing context is a way to welcome people in. It fosters trust and enables people to make more informed decisions.
“Hiring people with the hospitality gene… is what I call hiring for the ‘51 percent.’ Their emotional skills matter even more than technical skills.”
We had a great conversation about this as a team. While we believe in trusting your gut when hiring, we also discussed the opportunity to align on what the 51 percent means for us.
It’s not just about hiring, though. It’s about how we evaluate and grow people, too. A technically skilled team member who brings others down can be a drag for the team. Clarifying this could make our hiring and performance conversations more intentional and aligned as a group.
“Much of the success we have had has resulted from saying ‘no, thank you’ to opportunities that, while initially compelling, would not have been wise to pursue.”
I have learned this the hard way over the years. The projects that seemed exciting, but we knew deep down would be challenging to deliver within budget. The ones where we ignored the red flags. The shiny new tools that promised to solve everything. The hire who seemed like the perfect fit on paper. Each time we said yes to something that was not right, it ultimately cost us.
Over time, I’ve learned that saying no is not just about avoiding mistakes; it’s also about setting boundaries. It is about protecting the space to say yes to the right things. The short-term 'no' can be uncomfortable, but it helps us build great things in the long term.
“I feel the entrepreneurial spark when some instinct tells me that a certain dining ‘context’ doesn’t currently exist but should exist… Each question begins with these five words: ‘Who ever wrote the rule…?’”
I love this mindset. It is easy to look at what others are doing and feel like we need to follow the same path. However, most of the meaningful work we have done has come from asking ourselves questions.
“Who ever wrote the rule?” is not about being different for the sake of it. It is about being honest with ourselves about what we believe could work and building from there.
“The worst mistake is not to figure out some way to end up in a better place after having made a mistake. We call that ‘writing a great last chapter.’”
Mistakes are going to happen. What defines us is how we respond. We’ve had projects at Barrel that didn’t go the way we had hoped, and clients who felt confused or disappointed. Or we just made the wrong call.
But I have seen what happens when we lean in instead of avoiding it. When we follow up, take ownership, and reset expectations, it makes all the difference. But even then, being intentional about writing the last chapter can be a big win, and turn an unhappy client into your best reference.
This concept also applies to the team. Not every hire works out. Not every decision goes over well. But the story doesn't have to end there.
“The interests of our own employees must be placed directly ahead of those of our guests because the only way we can consistently earn raves is first to ensure that our own team members feel jazzed about coming to work.”
I appreciated how clearly Meyer puts the team first, and why. It’s something I’ve been thinking about more and more over the years. The experience we deliver starts with how the team feels. If people are energized and clear on expectations, that energy carries into the work. If they are stretched too thin or unsure of their role, that shows up too.
It’s not about making people happy for the sake of it. It’s about creating an environment that attracts individuals who want to grow, tackle challenging problems, and take ownership. That means designing systems that challenge and support them, provide clarity and consistency, and reward thoughtfulness and initiative. When those things are in place, people thrive, and when they’re not, the work suffers and the experience breaks down. That’s what we’re solving for.
Setting the Table shows us that leadership is not about having all the answers. It is about showing up with consistency. It is about attention to detail, care, and clarity. And it reinforced a question I often ask myself: would I want to work here? That question helps me stay honest and focused on building the kind of place that not only delivers great work but also helps people become their best selves and feel proud to be part of the team.