The World's Richest Restaurateur Has A Secret: It's Not About The Food
Thanks to Mike for passing this along.
Tilman
Fertitta is barely past the first of his many morning cups of coffee and the
first ten minutes of our meeting when he decides, as is his wont, to take
control. As soon as I break out my tape recorder, he picks it up and places it
on top of a paper cup, within wrist-snapping distance, turning it off and on
during our discussion as he deems fit. Having noticed poor lighting on another
floor, he dispatches a passing employee to fix it. When I ask the 55-year-old
to tell me about how he got started, he admonishes me in his thick Texas twang:
“I’ve overread that story. I just hate to go that far back.” So we don’t, for
now, because as Fertitta later tells me, laughing, “I do whatever the f–k I
want.”
Most
of the time Fertitta, the 100% owner of Landry’s, wants to gobble up
hospitality businesses: specifically, poorly managed, out-of-date and
distressed restaurants, hotels, casinos and boardwalks that he can buy on the
cheap, often right out of bankruptcy court. Fertitta then cleans house. He
fires top executives, closes failing locations, revamps existing ones and moves
management to Landry’s headquarters in Houston, where he can keep an eye on
everyone. “When we buy somebody, we cut the head off,” he says. “We keep the
operators who are looking–I hate to use this term–they’re looking for a leader.
We lead very well. And we immediately spend money on them and make them better.
Everybody wants to be led.
