I can understand that versatility is about as useful a trait as you can get. But applying human concepts to businesses doesn't always work out as well as one might expect. In this case, I want to highlight the last decade or so at Dunkin Donuts.
The very name of the place implies a -singular- product, albeit of varying flavors. The product itself, doughnuts, tends to be accessorized by coffee, tea, cocoa, and miscellaneous hot and cold beverages, which is perfectly sensible.
In recent years they seem to have run into all sorts of confusion with their business model. The 'Doughnut Hole' idea was an excellent way to start things off, rendering similar variety in miniature to the general public, while appearing to both cut costs and retain the purity of their brand and their stock. And it was good.
Next, they attempted to market their coffee, in an effort to boost sales and distinguish it as something other than a generic sidekick to their product of choice. Considering the long and friendly history between coffee and doughnuts, it came as no real surprise. However, it was also in response to the rising popularity of Starbucks, which had been sweeping off the west coast and across the country. (I still remember the first time I saw one of those. I thought "Oh, fuck. We're doomed". And while it seems that the needless, shameless extravagance that gave birth to the chain was a sign of the times, it's here to stay.) Dunkin' Donuts coffee came into its own, and served well on its own in tandem with the doughnuts.
This is where the chain starts to run into problems, as I've seen it. Following the successful marketing of its coffee as an individual product, the next step was to vary the coffee, again in competition with Starbucks. The myriad variants that popped up, some stuck and some didn't. Iced coffee was a logical step in summertime, and flavored syrups were at least reasonable. But stepping away from doughnuts is a serious problem.
The chain was and still is making an attempt to combat the breakfast (plus all-day) menus of McDonalds and Burger King. Its core concept doesn't have the variety to do it, so they try lateral marketing techniques. Attempting to market breakfast sandwiches, flatbreads/pseudo-panini, etc. however, is merely drawing attention away from the singular thing that made them a nationwide success.
And that's not even taking into account the hideously overhyped 'healthy eating' craze that has staggered mainstream foodservice. How does a doughnut shop fit healthy eating into their image? Not only does it sound false, but it also eats away at the establishment's credibility from both ends, causing doubts about their healthy offerings and worries about decreased quality of their product of choice.
"Time to make the doughnuts" was good. Now it's "America Runs on Dunkin", because the core of the company is out of fashion. I just hope they hang on long enough to return to basics, and start giving me the best doughnuts money can buy... again.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The Dollar Menu
It's a phenomenon that existed in other areas of industry for quite a few years. The odds of encountering a "Dollar Store" or some reasonable facsimile in the average strip mall are rather good, and they seem to be designed for when you want something chintzy, cheaply made, possibly expired (in the case of medicines and such), and on very short notice.
Compare that with the giant catch-all stores like Wal-Mart, KMart, Target, and the wholesale behemoths like Costco and BJ's. Greater quality, but a likely greater monetary cost and expense in time. After all, wandering around any of those giant stores looking for XYZ is likely to result in all sorts of time-consuming disctractions.
Now, the purported 'fast food' establishments (i.e. McD, BK, Taco Bell, KFC, etc) are expanding their menus to cope with the distortion of demands from consumers crying out for 'healthy' alternatives, in a manner vaguely reminiscent of the Opium Wars. The burgers and fries that were the status quo for decades no longer pass muster with the Great Unwashed, and the systematic machines designed to bring them out fast and perfect are being nudged over to make room for prepackaged salads, parfaits, and all sorts of things that have no real place in the typical fast food joint. The chains are forced to grow beyond their self-inscribed limits, leading to *shock* price hikes.
By the same token, is it reasonable to imagine 'fast food' chains branching off to 'dollar menu' kiosks, with the same abbreviated, relentlessly cheap menu, in a tiny space with even more severely questionable preparation methods?
Take the stereotypical pretzel kiosk, the one that's at the far end of the mall from the food court, catering to the lazy shoppers; every hour or two the main branch (an actual food stand in the food court) sends a few boxes of relief supplies to stock them. Imagine something like that for your burgers. Perhaps a microwave and some heat lamps?
Is it really worth the underlying cost, just to pay the low price?
Compare that with the giant catch-all stores like Wal-Mart, KMart, Target, and the wholesale behemoths like Costco and BJ's. Greater quality, but a likely greater monetary cost and expense in time. After all, wandering around any of those giant stores looking for XYZ is likely to result in all sorts of time-consuming disctractions.
Now, the purported 'fast food' establishments (i.e. McD, BK, Taco Bell, KFC, etc) are expanding their menus to cope with the distortion of demands from consumers crying out for 'healthy' alternatives, in a manner vaguely reminiscent of the Opium Wars. The burgers and fries that were the status quo for decades no longer pass muster with the Great Unwashed, and the systematic machines designed to bring them out fast and perfect are being nudged over to make room for prepackaged salads, parfaits, and all sorts of things that have no real place in the typical fast food joint. The chains are forced to grow beyond their self-inscribed limits, leading to *shock* price hikes.
By the same token, is it reasonable to imagine 'fast food' chains branching off to 'dollar menu' kiosks, with the same abbreviated, relentlessly cheap menu, in a tiny space with even more severely questionable preparation methods?
Take the stereotypical pretzel kiosk, the one that's at the far end of the mall from the food court, catering to the lazy shoppers; every hour or two the main branch (an actual food stand in the food court) sends a few boxes of relief supplies to stock them. Imagine something like that for your burgers. Perhaps a microwave and some heat lamps?
Is it really worth the underlying cost, just to pay the low price?
Monday, August 3, 2009
Early Morning Thoughts on Breakfast
It used to be called 'the most important meal of the day'. I certainly grew up with exactly that in mind. Usually breakfast wasn't much: some scrambled eggs, toast, a cup of tea; but that fifteen or twenty minutes at the stove and at the table did so much good, it might have been a three-course meal. The feel of making and eating breakfast, of doing exactly what your body needs exactly right, is something anyone can appreciate.
The first meal of the day is when you fuel your body, order your thoughts, and prepare yourself for the workday ahead. How is all of that possible on the run? It's simply not, and the notion is ridiculous. And yet these days, the whole idea of breakfast been distilled to breakfast bars, protein shakes, and all manner of two-minute calorie dumps, masked with notions of 'efficiency' and 'productivity'. Much better to scarf down a calorie laden brick while ironing your powersuit and packing up your briefcase.
It may be because I work with food for a living, or perhaps it's because I was raised in the style of the Old Country; whether it's one of those, or something else entirely, I find the whole conception of the modern 'breakfast' revolting.
Any meal, no matter how small, should be both enjoyable and enjoyed. I'll take the extra time, because it's worth it.
The first meal of the day is when you fuel your body, order your thoughts, and prepare yourself for the workday ahead. How is all of that possible on the run? It's simply not, and the notion is ridiculous. And yet these days, the whole idea of breakfast been distilled to breakfast bars, protein shakes, and all manner of two-minute calorie dumps, masked with notions of 'efficiency' and 'productivity'. Much better to scarf down a calorie laden brick while ironing your powersuit and packing up your briefcase.
It may be because I work with food for a living, or perhaps it's because I was raised in the style of the Old Country; whether it's one of those, or something else entirely, I find the whole conception of the modern 'breakfast' revolting.
Any meal, no matter how small, should be both enjoyable and enjoyed. I'll take the extra time, because it's worth it.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Book Review: The Soul of a Chef
The Soul of a Chef (the Journey Toward Perfection). Written by Michael Ruhlman, published by Penguin-putnam.
This book is one of the many emerging 'insider' accounts of various celebrated kitchens, culinary icons, and the internal society of cooks and foodservice workers. This particular volume deals with three completely different mindsets, yet very similar outlooks on the world, and how, in the end, it really is all about the food, giving a double handful of phenomenal recipes and preparations.
The first third of the book deals with something most people, even most culinary enthusiasts know much at all about: the exam to become a CMC, a Certified Master Chef. Proctored at the Culinary Institute of America in New York, this is a test that distills centuries of preparation techniques to their fundamental essence. For a modern chef in an age of improvisation, of jazz-like innovation, this return to ruthlessly enforced basic principles is both enormously taxing and immensely humbling. There's a very good reason this test has only a handful of candidates every year, and very few success stories, even from those.
However, the downside to this component is that it's rather choppily written. The candidates are rather flat, and while their trials illuminate them, it's often not enough. Most of them aren't detailed with enough personality or history, so it's hard to cheer them on except in an abstract manner.
The second part of the book dives headlong into a renowned restaurant, Michael Symon's Lola, in Cleveland. It goes into detail about the modestly laissez-faire kitchen, its loyal staff, brilliant menu, and the restaurant's enormous success, serving beautiful food with their own unique style. This section is much more smoothly written, and serving in seeming counterpoint to, the beginning's rigid focus; underneath though, the very same intensity and passion for excellence is still strong and easy to see.
The third section finds what may be the perfect synthesis of the CMC exam's classical pedigree and the modern groove of a contemporary restaurant, Thomas Keller and The French Laundry. A superb analysis of the man, his history, his food and his philosophies is accented by a breathless commentary on the food itself.
A short epilogue revisits the highs and lows of the book, doing some thoughtful comparing and contrasting between the sections and characters portrayed throughout. It does an excellent job of bringing the components together and closing out the manuscript.
But it's not over. Following that, as I noted earlier, there are recipes; some from each part of the book: the CMC exam candidates, Lola bar and bistro, and Thomas Keller's French Laundry. Each stands on its own merit, and are much less intimidating outside of their environments of origin. Home cooks will adore dishes like Lola's Slash-and-burn Grouper (p 352), but may avoid trying their hand at Keller's intimidating Oysters And Pearls (p 358). Nonetheless, there are recipes for all degrees of intensity, and most levels of casual or professional talent.
I liked this book. It gives useful insights into a field that is defined by excellence, and in thorough exposition, shows how difficult it can be to define something that sounds so simple. There seem to be many forms of success, from business savvy, popularity with locals, with media, or even sheer mastery of technique, creativity, and that elusive, ephermal quantity that's either there, or it's not. The industry is trying to define it one way, many successful chefs are defining it another, and the world of people they serve often has something else in mind entirely.
Who's right?
Whoever's happiest.
This book is one of the many emerging 'insider' accounts of various celebrated kitchens, culinary icons, and the internal society of cooks and foodservice workers. This particular volume deals with three completely different mindsets, yet very similar outlooks on the world, and how, in the end, it really is all about the food, giving a double handful of phenomenal recipes and preparations.
The first third of the book deals with something most people, even most culinary enthusiasts know much at all about: the exam to become a CMC, a Certified Master Chef. Proctored at the Culinary Institute of America in New York, this is a test that distills centuries of preparation techniques to their fundamental essence. For a modern chef in an age of improvisation, of jazz-like innovation, this return to ruthlessly enforced basic principles is both enormously taxing and immensely humbling. There's a very good reason this test has only a handful of candidates every year, and very few success stories, even from those.
However, the downside to this component is that it's rather choppily written. The candidates are rather flat, and while their trials illuminate them, it's often not enough. Most of them aren't detailed with enough personality or history, so it's hard to cheer them on except in an abstract manner.
The second part of the book dives headlong into a renowned restaurant, Michael Symon's Lola, in Cleveland. It goes into detail about the modestly laissez-faire kitchen, its loyal staff, brilliant menu, and the restaurant's enormous success, serving beautiful food with their own unique style. This section is much more smoothly written, and serving in seeming counterpoint to, the beginning's rigid focus; underneath though, the very same intensity and passion for excellence is still strong and easy to see.
The third section finds what may be the perfect synthesis of the CMC exam's classical pedigree and the modern groove of a contemporary restaurant, Thomas Keller and The French Laundry. A superb analysis of the man, his history, his food and his philosophies is accented by a breathless commentary on the food itself.
A short epilogue revisits the highs and lows of the book, doing some thoughtful comparing and contrasting between the sections and characters portrayed throughout. It does an excellent job of bringing the components together and closing out the manuscript.
But it's not over. Following that, as I noted earlier, there are recipes; some from each part of the book: the CMC exam candidates, Lola bar and bistro, and Thomas Keller's French Laundry. Each stands on its own merit, and are much less intimidating outside of their environments of origin. Home cooks will adore dishes like Lola's Slash-and-burn Grouper (p 352), but may avoid trying their hand at Keller's intimidating Oysters And Pearls (p 358). Nonetheless, there are recipes for all degrees of intensity, and most levels of casual or professional talent.
I liked this book. It gives useful insights into a field that is defined by excellence, and in thorough exposition, shows how difficult it can be to define something that sounds so simple. There seem to be many forms of success, from business savvy, popularity with locals, with media, or even sheer mastery of technique, creativity, and that elusive, ephermal quantity that's either there, or it's not. The industry is trying to define it one way, many successful chefs are defining it another, and the world of people they serve often has something else in mind entirely.
Who's right?
Whoever's happiest.
Friday, July 10, 2009
A quiet introduction
I'm here as a cook, a professional, and a scholar. This blog is where I delve into the ways in which food and those who work with it influence the world, a concerned eye on the cutthroat ways of the professional kitchen and restaurant business.
Also included from time to time, will be culinary text reviews, simple recipes and home cooking tips, as well as analyses of techniques and tools, posted as I research them, buy them, test them, etc.
Now, I'm reasonably sure that others are already doing this. That doesn't worry me. What I expect is simply that any readers come here with an open mind. This being because despite the upsurge of public attention to food and foodservice, there are endless ways in which the public tend to be misled. I'm not going to be needlessly cruel, but I'm not going to sugarcoat things either.
I know a lot about home cooked food, restaurant food, and about the down-and-dirty side of restaurants; and while I might be guilty of tearing into the occasional fast food burger, I do not do so happily.
Also included from time to time, will be culinary text reviews, simple recipes and home cooking tips, as well as analyses of techniques and tools, posted as I research them, buy them, test them, etc.
Now, I'm reasonably sure that others are already doing this. That doesn't worry me. What I expect is simply that any readers come here with an open mind. This being because despite the upsurge of public attention to food and foodservice, there are endless ways in which the public tend to be misled. I'm not going to be needlessly cruel, but I'm not going to sugarcoat things either.
I know a lot about home cooked food, restaurant food, and about the down-and-dirty side of restaurants; and while I might be guilty of tearing into the occasional fast food burger, I do not do so happily.
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