On passion…for one’s chosen career

When a person is deeply passionate about their profession, it’s a wonder to watch. You know it when you see someone who’s totally, passionately in their element and is making a few bucks at it. They don’t mind thinking all-hours about their career choice, and focus all energies into increased success—because, fundamentally, it’s not a career choice, but a lifestyle choice. It seems the only thing that stops the successful, passionate person is a car wreck or a heavy craving for narcotics (I suppose one of those could lead to the other).

Success stories in any industry are usually at the hands of these people. Take this issue of FSN, for instance. Talk with Jon Bigalk, who owns Willingham’s Championship BBQ with his wife, Kristy, for a short time and you see the man’s passion for his product, to the point where you wonder if there’s something wrong with yourself—“Why haven’t I found something to be borderline crazy about?”

Bigalk’s uncle, John Willingham, created the particular smoking method for his award winning barbecued meat, patented it and became a champion pit master, is also one of those passionate people. Except his passion extended beyond barbecue.
A man of diverse interests, Willingham also holds 17 patents for various inventions, including those for the nasal spray bottle, and also dabbled in politics as a Shelby County, Tenn., commissioner.
And I still struggle daily to locate my car keys.

Bigalk’s passion for barbecue does beg one question, however. Does he ever get tired of eating it, even just for a moment? “Honestly, I don’t,” he said.

“Well, maybe when we’ve been on the road five days (at a competition),” Kristy said, laughing. “It’s nice to have some fruit or a salad.”

“Well, that’s true,” Jon said.

The Strip Club Meat & Fish ownership group of Tim Niver, Aaron Johnson and J.D. Fratzke are equally passionate about their business. Niver and Johnson, as you all know, also own the Town Talk Diner, where they perfected their business model—part of which includes a particular attitude, a sort of laid-back-über-attentiveness to their guests that makes a diner want to hang out and stuff money in the owners’ pockets.

The “attitude” is no gimmick, however—it carries over into the off-hours. While I interviewed Fratzke for this month’s Chef’s Dish feature one Wednesday afternoon, Niver answered repeated phone calls for reservations and inquiries. Each conversation usually prompted laughter from Niver—the guy really enjoys people, and there’s nothing fake about it.

After one call, he reported that Mpls./St. Paul Magazine scheduled time for a photo shoot, and that they had already booked 50 for reservations for Friday. “That’s one turn of the tables,” he said.
Fratzke in turn reported that Fantasy Gifts, an “adult” store selling erotic and risqué gifts, also called to reserve space for a Valentine’s Day staff dinner, which drew a cheer from Niver.

“We cater to any fetish,” Niver said, laughing. “The Strip Club: We’re easy.”

Good humor, laid back, and attention to detail (those 50 tables, and the need to turn them). Passionate people. Go figure.

Now a cynic might say it’s easy to be passionate about something that’s high cash flow, or when you’re invested monetarily to the hilt. And I’ve written stories for this and other publications about people who stumble into extreme success, which becomes their “passion” simply by being in the right place at the right time.

But a more hopeful person would say that for most successful people, there has to be the passion first, followed by a desire to achieve one’s dream within acceptable risk parameters.

In my short experience within the foodservice industry, I’d say there’s more folks of the latter persuasion. Food is visceral, and there’s the obvious social component. It’s a combination that creates passion for one’s work.


What won’t be found in this issue

I wrote last month about the tanking economy, with insightful commentary from Russell Klein at Meritage, Kip Clayton from Parasole and Scott Pampuch from Corner Table. I wrote that “part two” of that article would be in this issue. It won’t. We got a little tight for space. But it will definitely be in the April issue, so look for it.


And finally, a rant

One thing we’ve talked about here within the Foodservice News empire is starting a “letters to the editor” page. Yes, we do get letters, e-mails, and phone calls. But it’s just never worked out to set ‘em to the page.

I’m reminded of our desire for a “letters” page after a note from a disgruntled reader, who, after reading the story last month about David Fhima and Zahtar, wrote that FSN was spiraling into “the toilet.” I have no problem with one man’s view of our trajectory. And I can understand his opinion of the story. It was largely positive, which was, basically, the guy’s problem—never mind that I’d written a story detailing Fhima’s financial disintegration, printed in August 2006 (and found in our Web site’s archives).

“Talk to the vendors who dealt with Fhima!” this person railed. I would love to. But, for a variety of reasons, many of these people don’t want to go on the record. Say what you will about Mr. Fhima, he’ll figure out something to say on the record.

So, what to do, what to do? Well, we’ll just keep reporting what’s going on, as best we can with as many sources who will chat on record. And maybe we’ll be able to start that “letters” page someday.