Life, on the Line by Grant Achatz

Author:Grant Achatz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2011-01-24T16:00:00+00:00

“Look, Nick. Grant is a genius, but don’t put half-a-buck into a restaurant. I know people who have invested in restaurants, and they do it because they want a reservation and they get emotionally wrapped up in the romance of it. It’s like a charitable donation. You will never see your money again.”

I was driving to a coffee shop with Greg Callegari, the hedge-fund manager with whom I had been working for the past four months. Greg was in his late forties and ran a fund-of-funds that had a few hundred million in assets. Well dressed and relaxed in an old-world-Italian-via-New-York manner, he seemed like he should always have an espresso in one hand and a phone in the other—and he usually did. In his world, “half-a-buck” meant half a million dollars, and he gave his advice with his usual smile, shake of the head, and easygoing laugh.

“I know, I know,” I replied, “but this will be different. It’s not really a restaurant. It’s going to be more like a performance-art theater, something that no one in this country has really done before.”

“You’re not helping your case.” He smiled again and almost giggled. It did sound absurd when put like that.“Look, you’re gonna be feeding people, right? In my book that’s a restaurant. And in the real world, investors get screwed when they invest in restaurants. But that’s okay; they know that going into it. They are patrons of the arts; it’s an ego thing for them. They want a fancy living room where they can take clients and say they own the place, get the best table. All I’m saying is sure, help Grant out, but put in an amount of money that you can afford to lose. Tell me you’re not going to put in five hundred. You don’t even know the guy.”

I would come to hear that a great deal. This was a rich man’s folly, and while it’s okay to get a tax write-off and hobnob with a great chef, it would be stupid to drop everything and build a restaurant—especially with someone you actually met for the first time a week ago.

“Greg, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. I am going to close up the fund and build this with Grant. I know how my money will be spent because I’ll be the one spending it. I appreciate the risk you took in helping me start the fund, but you can tell that my heart’s not in it, right?”

Greg looked at me with a smile and shrug of the shoulders. I think deep down he knew that I wasn’t in love with the hedge-fund world, that I wasn’t putting in an all-out effort. He had seen it all in business and wasn’t easy to frazzle. “All I’m saying,” he said calmly, “is to take a few days before you decide. Figure out what this guy is about. For all you know he is an addict or something. These guys—chefs—are unstable. You don’t want

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