On curiosity, connection, and the relationships we don't see coming.
I've always loved being the person who says, “You two need to meet.” Sometimes there's a specific reason. Someone is working through a challenge, and I know exactly who might be able to help. Other times, there's no obvious connection at all. I just have a feeling two people will enjoy each other. Maybe they share a similar curiosity, or maybe they see the world so differently that a conversation between them could be interesting. I don't always know what will come of it, and that's part of the fun.
Recently, I attended my second Hands Please gathering, this time in Nashville ahead of the MICHELIN Guide American South Ceremony. Joshua Hernandez, who brings these gatherings together, uses a simple invitation: “Arrive as strangers. Leave as collaborators.” It resonated with me because I've spent so much of my career bringing people together, often without knowing where those relationships might lead. And being surrounded by so many people who care deeply about hospitality reminded me why I still enjoy this industry as much as I do.
We spend a lot of time talking about networking as though every conversation should lead somewhere. A new client, a partnership, an investment, or an introduction to someone who can open a door. And sometimes it does. I've seen firsthand how a single conversation can turn into something much bigger. But some of my favorite relationships started with absolutely no agenda. A conversation over dinner, someone sitting next to me at an event, or a friend introducing me to another friend simply because they thought we'd get along. No pitch, no immediate opportunity, and no particular reason to stay in touch beyond enjoying the conversation.
Years later, those same people might be running companies, opening restaurants, building something new, or navigating an entirely different chapter of life. And our paths cross again. That's one of my favorite things about hospitality. Someone you worked with years ago is now doing something you never would have imagined. A familiar face introduces you to someone whose work you've admired. And somehow, even after years apart, the conversation picks up right where it left off. It's a relatively small world filled with people doing an incredible range of things, and I love that you never quite know who you'll run into next.
Nashville was a wonderful reminder of this. With so much culinary talent gathered for the MICHELIN Guide ceremony, there were opportunities to reconnect with old friends and meet people whose work I'd followed from afar. We talked about restaurants, naturally, but also about family, career changes, ideas that hadn't quite taken shape, and challenges that don't always make it into someone's professional bio. Those are often the conversations I remember most. And after years of working across restaurants, technology, and investment, I'm still constantly learning from the people around me. I've learned as much from independent restaurant owners figuring things out one day at a time as I have from executives responsible for thousands of locations. The more people I meet, the more I realize how much there is that I don't know.
I've also been thinking about the difference between being generous with your relationships and treating every connection as a transaction. Introductions can be incredibly valuable. They can help someone find a partner, solve a problem, build a business, or simply feel a little less alone in what they're trying to accomplish. But I don't think every introduction needs to produce a measurable outcome to be worthwhile. Sometimes the value is a new perspective. Sometimes it's encouragement at exactly the right moment. Sometimes it's simply the pleasure of meeting someone interesting. That doesn't mean time and expertise aren't valuable. They absolutely are, and I've become more intentional about recognizing the difference between making a connection and doing the kind of work that deserves a professional engagement. But I never want to lose the curiosity that makes me want to bring people together in the first place.
There's a tendency, especially as we get further along in our careers, to become more selective about who we meet. We have less time, more responsibilities, and increasingly specific ideas about which conversations might be useful. I understand that instinct, and I've certainly felt it myself. But some of the most interesting people I've met weren't the people I expected to meet, and some of the most valuable things I've learned came from conversations I almost didn't have. It's made me think about how easily we can limit our own perspective when we decide too quickly who might have something interesting to say.
I hope I never lose the willingness to sit next to someone new, ask what they're excited about, and listen without immediately thinking about how their story connects to my own work. Or the impulse to introduce two people simply because I think they'd enjoy knowing each other. Maybe they'll build something together. Maybe they'll become friends. Maybe they'll have one great conversation and never cross paths again. All three seem like pretty good outcomes to me.
So here's to the people who make room at the table, the friends who keep showing up in unexpected places, and the strangers who don't stay strangers for very long. And to everyone who has ever heard me say, “You two need to meet,” there's a good chance I'll be saying it again soon.
