Dear Charleston-Savannah
Chef Jason Stanhope’s letter to the Charleston-Savannah hospitality community
I love this industry. I’m more in love with restaurant life than ever before. We have endured a major shift for the better. Over the last five years, the learning curve was steep. The lessons felt harsh, and our greatest vulnerabilities were exposed. Point blank, we had to become good at our jobs. We had to run real businesses, do things like basic math, and treat people with respect. We had to build schedules that could handle sick days and emergencies. Novel, I know. All of a sudden, being a good cook wasn’t good enough. Anger and outbursts were no longer tolerated in the name of good intention. Reactionary discipline was replaced with motivation and empowerment.
Finally, the long game is dominating our decisions pertaining to our teams, finances, and health choices. We have reprioritized our people as our greatest assets. Chefs will always be a detail-driven demographic by nature, just not at the expense of our sanity. Mental health is now a full-blown movement. Many of my peers and heroes have dedicated their whole lives to building support systems for those in need. Our industry would be in shambles without leaders like Ashley Christensen, Mickey Bakst, and Chris Shepherd.
I truly believe that we do our best work right outside our comfort zone. As leaders, it should be our daily discipline to tactfully take people to that sweet spot and show them that they can be better than they ever thought they could be. My father used to tell me that you could play with pain, but you can’t play with injury. The path to greatness might hurt, but it shouldn’t be debilitating.
To those who are just starting out in the industry, I encourage you to find a mentor, be patient, and hang on for dear life. A long time ago, I chose to spend 10 years at one restaurant instead of one year at 10. This was the best decision of my career. It afforded me a mentor, Mike Lata, to whom I will forever be grateful.
There are moments of exhaustion where you will feel like you are working harder, faster, and cleaner than those around you. That’s good, because you are! This is the feeling you get right before a promotion, or you break through a ceiling.
As leaders, we invest in others to ensure a bright future for generations to come. That is the most fulfilling part of what we do. There is a renewed sense of sacrifice for the common goal of hospitality and team morale. The uncertainties of the pandemic were paralyzing. Navigating things like labor issues and the cost of dining can be exhausting. I know that the art of hospitality is stronger than ever. Maybe I’m projecting, but I can feel the love flowing through the kitchen doors back into our dining rooms. Stay relentless, always make the hard decisions, and learn to thrive right outside your comfort zone.
— Jason Stanhope, Executive Chef of Lowland