A few potholes show up on the entrepreneurial road

It was 14 years ago that I opened my first restaurant in the small Durham
Dales town of Barnard Castle. After seven years I sold it to concentrate on
the developing restaurant I'd opened in Durham and a further restaurant in
Jesmond. It was a good move as it enabled me to grow the business and, at
last, pay myself a living wage.

But also, it removed my dependence on chefs who, by the extreme nature of
the job, often tend to be young and single and therefore have an aversion
to growing up in, what I'd learnt to be, a beautiful if rather quiet rural
idyll. Night clubs and potential girlfriends were rather thin on the ground
in Barney and after a while, despite my best efforts to promote the benefits
of the clean dales air and the gentle pace of life, the greener grass of the
pavements of the metropolis always beckoned seductively. I lived my life
like an ugly chap with a gorgeous girlfriend: always fearing that someone
more attractive would woo her away.

It was a problem not experienced in a larger restaurant in the big city. Far
from me continuously advertising for chefs or tapping up the employees of
other establishments, I found experienced professionals knocking on the
doors of our restaurants in Durham and Jesmond as they saw us as their own
path of green grass on the way to greater things.

Life continued to be ever-more exciting because business was good. And then
one day, while standing on the top of a cliff in drizzle-soaked Cornwall, I
received a call from a gentleman offering to buy our Jesmond restaurant from
us and, after a few weeks of negotiation, we shook on a deal. Thus we
started to plan our move into the city centre of Newcastle and found
fabulous premises down the bottom of Dean Street.

But this entrepreneurial road is a rocky one with unexpected bends and pot
holes and it's with regret that we closed our Newcastle restaurant the other
day. Despite having a loyal and enthusiastic customer base, along with those
visitors that Newcastle attracts, and some wonderful staff, I made the
difficult business decision to close because we weren't finding the business
there in the way that continues to be found in the Durham restaurant.

Of course, I've spent much time analysing the situation, asking myself what
we could do better but I'm sure that my impeccable timing had a lot to do
with things; opening the doors to trade just as the banks were announcing
that they might have to do the opposite.

Maybe there's also an irony here in that the recession could be persuading
more people to do what I've long argued in the press; that is cooking
their own meals at home. But somehow I doubt it. As a percentage of the
population, fewer people actually prepare their own meals in comparison with
times gone by and the situation doesn't appear to be changing.

However, despite it seeming to be a way of cutting off my nose to spite my
face, I'll continue trying to persuade more people to cook at home because
it's the only way we can actually understand what we're eating and thus
balance one of the most important and enjoyable things in our lives.

And there's the added benefit that understanding and enjoying how to cook
means that it's much easier to control the budget in these challenging
times. Maybe that might leave a little over to finance the occasional visit
to support the beleaguered restaurant industry. Eating out is a luxury
rather than a necessity and is bound to be one of those things to be
considered for the chop when you're looking at ways to reduce the budget.
But spare a thought for those young professionals who, along with teachers
and health professionals and others, need to progress their careers. Budget
carefully and leave a little aside for the occasional restaurant visit.
We've got to look after our budding Jamie Olivers.

A similar article appeared in the Journal.