When Bad News Isn’t the Worst
They say attention spans are shorter, so let’s try two columns in one…
Why Restaurants Close
Restaurants close for two reasons: financial distress or a lease is up. A lot of ink was spilled about the curtain falling on Café Lurcat. Restaurant leases typically run 10 years, and when an owner doesn’t feel a concept has another decade, it bows out, à la Lurcat.
Its Loring Park space, which has seen just two iconic restaurants in 40 years, will surely rise with another one (after needed repairs, I hear). But Lurcat’s departure is a story that tells a larger tale. Many of the region’s most accomplished restaurant companies are about to hit a wall, as aging founders lack a next generation to take the reins.
The list is long: Parasole Restaurant Holdings and D’Amico are the largest. But who will take over Good Day Café and Ciao Bella? When there is no clear successor and a business is at an inflection point, owners sometimes opt to close. Or if they’re fortunate, they may be able to sell. Good Day and Ciao Bella would have that luxury.
Why is it a luxury? Well, restaurants are different. Successful restaurants spring from the passion of a founder or chef, and when they depart, it’s difficult to value the business and future potential without them.
The restaurant business is low-margin and weighed down by skyrocketing costs. Restaurants are salable in specific circumstances: They need strong cash flow, sales growth trends, a concept that is original yet not specific to an individual chef’s vision, and have dedicated staff who will carry the torch for a new owner. This generally means selling at the top, not into the decline, and few restaurateurs want to do that.
So be prepared for some goodbyes in the coming years, as the reality of age and the quirks of restaurant economics intersect.
Target Under the Microscope
My colleague Erik Tormoen’s insightful feature on Target gets closer to the roots of the malaise affecting the company than anything that’s been written, even by reporters who cover Target as a beat. (Disclosure: I have family members who are Target employees, which is why I rarely write about the company.) But recent news caused me to view Erik’s story with a different perspective.
A July New York Times feature detailed how Minnetonka-based UnitedHealth Group works to intimidate journalists and other critics who attempt to detail UHG’s approach to care rationing. UHG is a business with a reputation for an insular culture; its employees rarely talk to media. The company generates billions in profits as a middleman in a broken health care system. Because local media neither understand UHG nor are inclined to probe, the company gets less scrutiny than Target, despite its literal life-and-death impacts.
UHG brought to mind 3M, another insular company with a low public profile. Its failure to disclose the dangers of PFAS contamination near its Maplewood headquarters was exposed when watchdogs like ProPublica and national media sought out whistleblowers—while the local press celebrated things like anniversaries of Post-it notes. It was not until regulatory attention was brought to bear that the locals took much notice.
My point is that we’re tough on Target, yet its failures pale in magnitude and harm relative to other members of the corporate community that get less attention and scrutiny. At least when Target does well, we can confidently say that the broader community benefits.