Zingerman's is like nirvana to me; it's part New York-style delicatessen, part high-end gourmet food shop. And I've always felt that, despite my success in medicine, that my true passion lies within the food world -- and Zingerman's is my holy grail.
I arrived around 3pm, and walked into the shop for the first time in years. It looks the same: decorated tin roof, linoleum tile on the floors, crowded aisles with folks at the cheese counter, the bread counter, the sandwich counter, the cashiers' lanes, and the olive oil and vinegar tasting areas. Even at that late lunch hour, the place was packed. I didn't even need to look at the sandwich menu, because I'd been dreaming about my lunch for a long, long time: a nosher-sized #18 (Georgia Reuben, invented at that very deli) and an old (sour) pickle. I'm salivating now, just thinking about it.
I walked next door to the seating area, grabbed my drink, and waited not-too-patiently for my sandwich. When the server brought it to me, he said: "You know, that's my very favorite sandwich here." "Mine too!", I exclaimed. Sandwich love....what could be better? I was full after the first half, but there was no way for me to not eat every last, sweet-savory-buttery-crunchy-rye-filled bite. I was transported, via sandwich, through the microfiche of my memories: from the first time I'd had that particular sandwich when Julie was visiting, to the time when they accidentally gave me someone else's sandwich, which was NOT what I'd ordered but was delicious nonetheless, to many lunches with Slade talking about his latest escapades at the gay bar, to eating with Diann who always ordered just a salad while I gorged on grilled rye bread, Russian dressing, red cabbage coleslaw, Emmentaler swiss, and turkey. Truly, if ever there were a heaven for me, sitting at Zingerman's eating a Georgia Reuben would be it.
I looked around the specialty foods and cheeses for a long time. And then I saw it: an advertisement for an olive oil tasting class for that evening. I'd been trying to reach several friends in Ann Arbor for plans that evening, but hadn't reached anyone. So I decided to sign up for the class.
I went to the class that evening, and it was great. We tasted five different olive oils, and ate it in lots of different ways: pan de tomate, bruschetta, cheeses with olive oil and spices, several different salads, even olive oil cake. It was really interesting, and I enjoyed myself immensely. At the end of the class, I was speaking with one of my neighbors during the class, a woman named Lois who works for Zingerman's. I told her about my love of Zing, and that my dream would be to someday open a place as delicious, fun, and fantastic as Zingerman's Deli. And that's when she told me about the Partners' Group meeting the next morning.
See, Zingerman's is now made up of multiple different businesses:
Zingerman's Deli
Zingerman's Coffee Roasters
Zingerman's Bakehouse
Zingerman's Creamery
Zingerman's Mail Order
Zingerman's Roadhouse (farm-to-table restaurant)
ZingTrain (corporate training organization)
and each of these has several partners. Once a month, the partners get together for a meeting, and this meeting is open to the public. So Lois suggested I go, and meet the founders themselves. It took me about 5 seconds to decide that yes, I'd do whatever it took to be there.
So I went the next morning to the partners' meeting. Actually, one of the teachers from the olive oil class had made breakfast for us, which was quite good. And I learned a lot about how to run a well-organized meeting: they had a timekeeper to keep all comments and announcements in check, they had an agenda which was posted at the front of the room for everyone to see, the facilitator kept the meeting moving along, and everyone had a good time while staying very much on point.
During a short break, I introduced myself to the managing partners of the deli. I spoke for a while with one of them, and told him that I'd attended the meeting because I really love the Zingerman's concept, and that I had hoped to be able to open a restaurant/specialty foods shop someday. He asked me where, and I told him I'd been thinking of Austin, Texas. He liked that idea, but told me that if I wanted to open a restaurant, I should "go to Vegas, and put all of your money on Black 13." He told me that only 3% of restaurants turn a profit in the first 3 years, that margins are very low, and that it's generally a bad idea. He also recommended that I consider starting with a food cart, which has lower overhead and which forces you to focus. Overall, not terribly positive.
When the meeting was over, I also introduced myself to Paul Saginaw, one of the founders and co-owners of Zingerman's, along with Ari Weinzweig. Turns out, I'd been sitting next to him at the deli the day before; I'd noticed him, but just didn't know who he was! I complimented him on a business which literally makes my heart sing, and he was very gracious accepting the compliment. I only wish I'd had the chance to meet Ari, as well.
So here's the point of all of this: I was supposed to go to Ann Arbor on Monday or Tuesday, and then go back to Detroit that night. It didn't happen that way, which had initially made me frustrated. Instead, I went on Wednesday, and because of that, signed up for and attended the olive oil class, and because of that, learned about the meeting where I made lots of contacts of generous people who said they'd be willing to speak to me about the food industry and any ideas I have for business ventures of my own. Amazing. Seems like it happened the best way possible, actually....
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