Why Great Hospitality Venues Lose Their Magic (And How to Stop It Happening to Yours)

People always tell you when you're running a bar, restaurant or cafe not to forget to keep thinking like a customer. It is, of course, well-meaning (and very good) advice, but it's often easier said than done.

But if you do have two minutes, take both of them to stop and think about the great hospitality venues you've been to over the years when they have just opened. The really good ones are often hard to explain. You can't always put your finger on exactly why you love them, but there is something about the entire experience that is unforgettable. The food, the service, the atmosphere, the way the team interacts, the hundreds of little details that are all put together intentionally.

These are my favourite experiences as a customer, when I can't quite say what it is that makes the place so great, because there is so much creativity that has had to be pulled together in a seamless way to give you one hell of a good day or night out.

Unfortunately, in our game, more often than not when you go back six months later, it's not quite the same.

It's still owned by the same people. It's largely the same venue. Nothing obvious has changed.

But somehow, it just feels a bit off.

The service isn't quite as sharp. The energy isn't quite there. The little touches have disappeared. You leave thinking, "That wasn't as good as I remembered. I'm a bit disappointed."

Why does that happen?

Over the last decade I've been lucky enough to see behind the curtain of thousands of hospitality venues, and I've seen the same pattern play out over and over again.

It normally starts with a great opening. The owner is full of ideas (and bursting with creativity), the team buys into it, customers love it and there is a huge amount of positive reinforcement coming back into the business. Who doesn't love working somewhere that people are raving about?

Usually this means the revenue is good too, which is part of what makes the next bit so hard to see coming.

Because while the venue can look successful from the outside, underneath it the business might not actually be creating cash. There might be no real control over wages, stock, purchasing or profitability. Sales are strong enough to hide the problem, so everyone keeps loving life and doing exactly what they were already doing.

Then slowly, a few small cracks appear and a few signs start to create some initial pressure and stress.

The owner is still working hard, but now they start to notice the bank account isn't quite as healthy as they thought it was. More of their time is being spent worrying about paying bills. Payroll day suddenly becomes a big deal, and owners find themselves hoping for a big weekend so they can take their own weekly salary or drawings.

Suppliers start calling more often and taking up more of the manager's time asking why payment hasn't been made, and everyone starts wondering why there never seems to be enough cash left at the end of the week.

And this is where the real damage starts.

The same person who opened the venue because they loved food, design, people and creating something beautiful is now spending most of their headspace trying to work out how to pay everyone on Friday.

As their stress increases, and they spend more time working on things they are not actually very good at, their creativity completely dries up.

The little things that made the venue special don't get attention. The team feels the stress. Service gets a little less consistent. A few customer complaints start creeping in.

Then one or two of the really good team members leave, because they want to work somewhere that meets their high standards. They want to go and find what they had when the place first opened.

Now the owner is hiring under pressure (and making some B-grade hires). Training gets rushed, new people don't quite understand the original standard, and the customer experience drops another level.

Before long you end up in this horrible loop where the venue is getting worse at exactly the same time the business can least afford for it to get worse.

Customers stop coming back as often. Revenue starts to soften. Cash gets even tighter. The owner gets even more stressed.

And eventually people look at a venue that was absolutely flying when it opened and wonder how on earth it ended up in the paper owing the tax department so much money.

Everyone sees the problem at the end. Almost nobody sees it at the beginning.

The interesting thing is that everyone sees the customer experience problem at the end.

Very few people see the financial and system control problem at the beginning.

That's one of the reasons the boring back-office stuff matters so much in delivering great hospitality over a long period of time.

Knowing your wages every day. Knowing your real food and beverage cost. Knowing whether you are actually making money while there is still time to do something about it.

Those things don't just protect your profitability.

They protect the owner's headspace and creativity, the team culture and ultimately the thing customers actually care about.

The magic that makes great hospitality truly special.