07 Nov Remove the smoked-eel sandwich at your peril
While reading Monocle magazine’s daily newsletter, a story by Emily Bryce-Perkins illustrated why it’s worth resisting change for change’s sake.
She writes,
”The first time I ate the smoked-eel sandwich at Quo Vadis I was alone and new to Soho. Tangy pink onions. The sharp slap of horseradish. And a buttery crunch, the kind that only exists when bread has been toasted in fat by a chef. You can order it late into the night, and it pairs wonderfully with a martini.”
Her smoked-eel musing on restaurants continues, ”In an industry with a novelty addiction, how do we celebrate the magic of what’s already here?”
Another excellent question! How do you celebrate the magic of what’s already here? And by celebrate the magic, I mean not consigning things that matter to the dustbin. Replacing them with shiny new objects at the first pull of FOMO, fads or other people’s ideas. Regardless of whether the replacement serves you better or not (ahem, knee-jerk AI anyone).
Which makes the smoked-eel sandwich, created by chef proprietor Jeremy Lee, and on his menu for 30 years or so, a decent analogy for sticking with what’s working.
I often feel frustrated when a popular product is discontinued or changed for no obvious benefit. See programs ditched for something different just as people began getting behind them. Been befuddled by a new logo, wondering what was wrong with the old one, and does it mean other things I care about are changing too?
But what you keep or toss isn’t the crucial point. Why are you doing it? Get beyond a flippant ‘time to replace this old thing’ to examine and appreciate the confidence that accumulates when people can count on something.
Confidence is a crucial currency, and another way value is stored in the brand. Value you can trade for the permission to tinker in other places.
Keeping the smoked-eel sandwich means the chef can try other less-travelled dishes. Secure in knowing the favourite is on the menu for regulars who don’t feel adventurous.
Still, this is not a call to don blinders and settle for the status quo. Doing the same thing simply because it’s what you’ve always done is the flip side of following the crowd off a cliff. And equally problematic. Instead, walk a more considered path to avoid either trap.
So, here are a few of prompts to help you decide if you have a smoked-eel sandwich worth celebrating.
Don’t assume. Genuinely explore if anyone would notice or care if ‘it’ disappeared. Look at any data you have. The sandwich might not be the most popular thing on the menu, but it has always contributed steady and reliable income. You trifle with those things at your peril.
How much goodwill does ‘it’ hold? The sandwich is a relatively small ticket item. It’s also a touchstone. And the comfort it conveys translates into consent to trial the new program or reset the strategy.
These articles often ask you to slow down, be deliberate and consider the foundations of what’s important and what you believe—before you act. Here too, you can look to your identity. Does the sandwich help meaningfully define and motivate you or your organisation or usefully represent who you are?
Emily sums up how the rush to change misses what matters: “Sometimes, what we need isn’t the next big thing but the same crunchy, horseradish-laced sandwich that has been waiting at the bar all along. Martini in company. As perfect as ever.”
Thanks for reading.