Let me tell you a story. It starts with a small boy, a little black suitcase packed with toys, and a suit worn not for fashion, but out of respect — because back then, flying was a special thing. Each summer, my brother and I would hop on a big shiny plane to Southern California, headed for the warm embrace of our grandparents and the cool booth at The Brown Derby.

While other kids looked forward to Disneyland, I was counting the minutes until we were poolside at The Polo Lounge or sliding into our regular table at Matteo’s — where I once rolled meatballs with none other than John Wayne. Yep, thatJohn Wayne. That moment was the spark that lit the flame for my lifelong love of hospitality. It’s been burning ever since.

The Roots of a Calling

My grandparents didn’t just dine out. They lived out — lunch, dinner, celebrations, casual catch-ups. And they took us everywhere with them. As kids, we learned early on to respect the dining room, the staff, and the theatre of it all. Valet service seemed like magic, and kitchen tours felt like secret missions. We weren’t just guests; we were part of their restaurant family.

Looking back, I now understand what they were doing. Those restaurants were their home away from home — places of connection, community, and comfort. They weren’t just feeding us food; they were feeding us values, tradition, and a sense of belonging. That’s where it all began.

From Side Hustle to Life’s Work

My professional journey into hospitality started the classic way — I needed to pay the bills while studying Design and Art History. My parents had always drilled in two things: respect others and work hard. So I rolled up my sleeves and started in a small Mexican restaurant. And while the job was supposed to be temporary, something about the people, the culture, and yes, the smell of fresh mole, got under my skin and stayed there.

Then came Citarella in New York — a legendary group of gourmet stores that taught me everything about quality, customer service, and never settling for mediocrity (because once you do, people will sell it to you forever). It was fast, it was demanding, and it sharpened my instincts like black coffee on a Monday morning.

And then, just like that, London called.

A new city, a new career chapter, and a whole different rhythm of doing things. Suddenly, I was working with new teams, new cultures, and an entirely different set of expectations. “Mandatory holiday” was a phrase I’d never heard before — I actually thought it was a joke at first. But learning to slow down (a bit), observing how leadership worked on this side of the pond, and picking up new habits added an entirely fresh layer to my style.

From one role to the next, I kept polishing my skills — not just the operations and numbers, but the people side of things. I soaked up every experience, whether it was a booming opening night or a quiet conversation with a regular. Whether it was building teams, launching concepts or opening restaurants across continents from London to Asia and the Middle East, it all brought me to where I am today: confident in my craft, humble about the journey, and still hungry for more.

The Chess Game of Service

Hospitality, to me, is like playing chess — but on ten boards at the same time, blindfolded, during a dinner rush. It’s a beautiful puzzle, where you’re juggling technical excellence and human warmth, spreadsheets and soufflés, P&Ls and personalities. And every so often, everything aligns — the team clicks, the guests feel the magic, and you hit that elusive dining utopia. Those are the moments we live for.

Now, don’t get me wrong — it’s not all glamour and goose fat. I’ve cleaned grease traps at midnight and faced down a walk-in fridge full of melting inventory. But would I trade it for anything else? Not a chance.

The State of Play

Somewhere along the way, we as an industry lost a little of the magic. Dining rooms now buzz with iPads, silent servers, and endless distractions. We’ve forgotten that hospitality isn’t just about the plate — it’s about the people. My mission these days is to bring the soul back. The handshake. The smile. The recognition that someone’s just had a hell of a day and this meal might be the best moment they’ve had in hours.

I call it: “Making Moments – Creating Experiences.” That’s what we’re really here to do.

Today & Tomorrow

I’ve now been in the business for over 25 years, and while my title might say Operations Director, I still think of myself as the kid in the suit, staring up in awe at the dining room lights. I work with founder-led businesses, because I believe in keeping things personal. I’ve built data systems and designed wait stations, but I’ll still jump on the floor when needed. I believe the future of hospitality is human — and I plan to be right there, helping it find its heartbeat again.

After all, I didn’t just choose this career. It chose me — meatballs and all.