Creating with intent
I intend to be intentional with my intentions in 2024. Plus Books News and a North Naples Restaurant of the Week.
Back in my food-critic days, I could often tell, within moments of walking into a restaurant, how my meal was going to go. Not always, no. And not with 100% certainty. But my Spidey-sense for dysfunctional operations became finely honed during my 18 years writing reviews, and in the decade before when I worked almost every restaurant job out there.
There’s no one thing I can point to. It’s not like: If the menu rack is disordered, then there’s only a 10% chance of success.
It’s more of a vibe.
Does the staff look busy — or do they look stressed? The former is good. The latter is not.
Are things burning in the kitchen? Are the bussers and food runners paying attention? Is everyone moving? Is anyone overseeing? Are tables piled with empty plates? Does the host seem to have control? And, perhaps most importantly, does the place feel stressful? Oftentimes this was my key. Standing at the front, watching a dinner service play out, how did it feel? If I felt stressed, I knew the staff did, too.
A stressed-out restaurant can result from many things: not enough staff; not enough of the right staff; a slow kitchen; poor management. Oftentimes, however, a stressed-out restaurant is little more than a poorly thought-out one. Someone at the top — the owner, the GM, the head chef, all of the above — did not think things through.
The difference between a good/great restaurant and a meh/bad one?
Intent.
The best restaurants I’ve visited, the ones I still think about and still return to, again and again, are the ones that were designed, created and executed with intention. This doesn’t make a restaurant fancy or expensive, though it can. It simply makes it functional, efficient and goooood.
When done right, the intentions of a good restaurant will be clear, as they are at these two spots:
A. Wong in London, England: To explore the rich flavors of China’s 3,000 years of culinary history
Nice Guys in Cape Coral, USA: To sustain a food/drink-forward space where anyone and everyone feels comfortable
These are wildly different restaurants — both created with intent.
I’ve been thinking a lot about intent lately. Intent is the source of not just lovely restaurants but of so many great things. Sure, it’s fun when the pieces randomly come together in a beautiful and meaningful way. But usually, the beautiful-meaningful things require some level of intent.
As 2023 draws to a close, it’s hard to quantify how intentional I’ve been. I’m not great at crafting mood boards or plotting my intentions in journals. But I am a fantastic overthinker. The kind who reevaluates herself, and her goals, and her progress toward said goals on a near-constant basis.
“The Mango Tree” became a book once I figured out my intentions for it: to try to understand the complicated layers of my mother and of myself. Those few intentional words took me from pages and pages of disconnected nonsense to this book that will be here before I know it (April 2! 103 days and counting! Have you preordered yet??).
I’d like to become more intentional with my intentions, if such a meta thing can be done. I’d love to find time to map them out, to juxtapose them against pretty scraps of cloth, carefully cut out pictures, fancifully colorful sketches. Would that make me more like the restaurants I love? Would it tone down my stress? Would it turn me into something delicious and revisit-able? Perhaps.
In 2024, I intend to take this newsletter in varying and new directions. You can expect more from the “WAGaBoD?” chronicles, and you can look forward to a new series I’ll be calling “Sandwiched,” in which I balance the mania of midlife’s demands with yummy-yummy sandwiches.
While 2023 is still here, I intend to enjoy it. To make it as intentionally un-stressful as the chaos gods will allow. To perhaps even take a goooood nap.
Book news
This week, the kind and brilliant booksellers at the iconic Books & Books in Miami named “The Mango Tree” one of their Most Anticipated Books of 2024, and I could not be more grateful. My juicy-sweet debut memoir appeared alongside legends Tana French, James Patterson, RuPaul, Emily Henry, Stephen King and so many more.
Over on Instagram, @readwithneleh included “The Mango Tree” in a roundup of 2024 books she’s excited about by AANHPI authors, wherein my book shared space with Lisa Ko, R.O. Kwon, Rachel Khong, and several other incredible writers from the diaspora.
Guess who gets to read their audiobook? This girl! I tested for the part of me and, as it turns out, I’m pretty good at being me. I got the job. If anyone out there reads for a living and has tips/tricks for how not to go hoarse, how to enunciate long sentences, how to slooooow dooown … I’m all ears. And soon I’ll be in all your ears, too.
Restaurant of the Week: Bicyclette Cookshop
Chef Kayla Pfeiffer and her team have transformed the former Fit & Fuel Cafe in North Naples into the chicly delicious Bicyclette Cookshop, swapping wraps and coffees for oyster po’ boy sliders with pickled-okra aioli and cocktails infused with rye and amaro, tequila and tamarind.
Pfeiffer serves her caviar with a daub of creme fraiche and a crinkly-red bag of Bugles that make for perfectly crunchy caviar cones. She teams her North Atlantic oysters with a tropical nuoc cham mignonette. Tops her burger with gooey raclette and kimchi aioli. Stuffs her zucchini blossoms with velvety nduja, then coats them in a batter that’s light as air yet still so satisfyingly crackly.
I’ve been a Pfeiffer fan since her days with the Tulia team. It’s hard to believe she’s only in her late 20s. Or maybe it’s not. Her food tastes vibrant, fun, unafraid. And with each new partnership, each new kitchen, each new team, her flavors seem to intensify.
Perhaps my only question for Bicyclette has to do with its intent. Is this place intended to showcase Chef Pfeiffer’s talents? Is it intended to be modern and international and American and delicious?
I hope so.
I’d love to see this concept continue for a very long time. And I’d love to know that Pfeiffer has a place where we can find her, again and again.
Where can we see the "Key West" essay of which you speak? Love to read it. And, congratulations on being you. Some of us strive for a lifetime to do that. BTW I think listening to a work in the author's voice can be quite powerful.
Hi Annabelle, I can't wait to read the Mango Tree. (Love the rest of the title) Will any of the part you shared in Key West be included?