Mid-winter ramblings

I have always had a soft spot in the ol’ heart for Napolean Bonaparte. You know the guy. French. Did pretty well for himself until an ill-advised trek into Russia. Yeah, that guy.

Yes, he had control issues. But there’s no denying his intellect and, those control issues and a nagging, conquering impulse aside, he did plenty of good—and occasionally great—things for the general public of France: establishing rule of law and the foundation for democracy, higher education, funding for the arts, a central bank, tax codes and road and sewer systems.

Even when exiled to Elba, he didn’t pout. He took over the island, revamped the roads, sewers, schools and helped improve farmland. And, the man knew how to eat, both on the road—he offered a cash prize to the inventor who could perfect the canning process to feed his armies—and at the dining table. The guy had a serious appreciation for simple, good food, which isn’t all that unusual for a citizen of France.

Napolean was a meticulous record keeper, and combine that with France’s general gastronomic obsessions, it wasn’t surprising to learn that favorite menus and recipes he enjoyed were recorded and stored. Sure, basic recipes and techniques have been passed along for generations. But recipes of particular meals the little emperor liked to eat?

I learned this factoid last month at a wine dinner at The Afton House Inn. Executive Chef Justin Grecco designed a menu constructed with meals that Mr. Bonaparte enjoyed on various occasions and excursions, and the Inn’s owner, Dave Jarvis, who lived in France for a time playing hockey and learning about wine—paired the courses with very tasty French wines.

Grecco and the kitchen staff cooked up five courses, which included a puff pastry of escargot, herb and boursin; a spinach salad with blueberries and champagne vinaigrette; a smoked rabbit consumé; a beef tenderloin filet with Capon chicken course, and, finally, a crème brulée trilogy. Simple and incredibly flavorful.

The wines were up to par with the food, although Jarvis had one interesting critique of two red wines he paired beef tenderloin with Capon chicken course. After some swirling, sniffing and tasting, his verdict on one red was, “Too much Peggy Flemming. I mean it’s good, but when it’s next to Arnold Schwarzeneggar…”

This was my kind of wine event.

But I bring up the evening for another reason: I had a chance to meet two generations of a family owned business, which is always impressive to see. Gordy and Kathy Jarvis, who purchased the inn in 1976, sat at one end of our table, their son Dave at the other. Dave and his brother, Dan, now run the business. “They’ve done a great job with this place, really taken it to another level,” Gordy said after the meal.

“No, we just adapted,” Dave quickly corrected. “It’s always been great.”

Passing a business to the next generation is something I’ve only observed, but closely. My maternal grandfather built a successful steel company in Canada, which he passed to his sons, who then passed it on to theirs. Only that third generation—my generation—didn’t or couldn’t maintain it, for a variety of reasons. The company was purchased by another, the name changed, and only one of my cousins remain, the rest dispersed to other ventures.

My father also started a company with a partner. It grew and is successful, but for a variety of reasons, I showed little interest in his particular field. His partner has several children working in the firm, many in high positions, and inevitably, the torch will be passed.

My father, his partner, and my grandfather all have said the same thing at one time or another, that with a family-operated business, it’s the third generation that’s a bit of a crapshoot. Not necessarily because they’re a bunch of lazy sacks, but, if the business is successful, and as the world gets smaller, there are many more opportunities for younger generations to explore that might lead them away.

Or lead them right back. From what I know, Dave Jarvis is a well-traveled person with a variety of experiences, and probably could have chosen a number of career tracks. But he came back to the family business. Of course, he’s only the second generation. His three young kids could turn out to be lazy sacks (kidding, Dave).

But that’s unlikely. With his parents enjoying their evening with friends, Dave introduced the various wines to the diners in an easy-going, informative and decidedly un-snooty fashion. During the meal, he studied the dining area, his eye on the servers’ timing, and he worked the room making sure his guests had every need met. And at the end of the meal, he introduced every staff member to the dinner guests, right down to the dishwasher. That’s a lesson passed down from generations of successful businesses—everyone plays an important role. I’m sure he’ll pass that along.


King Resilient

You’ve noticed on the front page of this month’s issue is a story on David Fhima and, what can be said at the moment, his comeback.

I don’t claim to know Fhima that well, but I do know him a little bit, and in the time we have spent talking about business—which occasionally bled into life discussions—I can’t recall ever getting the impression that he was down and out. Or at least he never projected it.

At the worst of his problems, he looked tired, stressed, pale—you name it (one visit he was limping around LoTo as if yet another setback had physically crashed into him. He assured me he hurt himself working out). With each of these conversations, no matter what new issue or rumor was swirling about his demise, he pressed forward, always talking about the options he was exploring to dig himself out of the hole in which he found himself—and all the options involved paying his debts, and not a leap into bankruptcy.

We met for lunch a few days before the Zahtar opening, and Fhima, physically, appeared a different person. Relaxed, an arm slung on the back of the banquet, gleefully shoveling menu samples into his mouth and talking about his new venture and his family.

A social creature, Fhima always will seek attention. But he said he has a different attitude than he did with his previous restaurants: He was out and about constantly, being the promoter, the “celebrity” chef. “After years of going after notoriety and the almighty dollar with the restaurants—which was the wrong way—I want to make people happy,” he said. “That’s what the business is really about, the hospitality. …Being humbled (this past year), gaining maturity—and gray hair—helps.”

Maintaining a sense of humor also is critical to overcoming adversity, and Fhima, outwardly at least, kept smiling and occasionally poked fun at his circumstance—he understood he put himself where he was, and didn’t blame anyone else.

While it remains to be seen how Fhima’s LifeTime adventure pans out, there is still a lesson to be learned: While it sounds trite, there is truth in the phrase, “never stop working.”

“You are always in the game if you don’t quit the game,” Fhima said. “If you don’t quit, you haven’t lost.”

I don’t know Fhima well enough to bet money on him. But I do know him well enough never to bet against him.