How has your view of hospitality evolved since you first joined Black Sheep Restaurants a decade ago?
I didn’t go to hospitality school; I’m a Black Sheep alum. There are things that I learned from my upbringing, but everything about hospitality, I’ve learned here. I feel we’ve stuck to our guns. We look after guests, one at a time, one night at a time. You’re only as good as your last service, right? I hope we’ll have a lot of success with Jean-Pierre the way we’ve had in our other restaurants, but what really matters is how consistent we are in delivering that experience to our guests. It’s not about our ego or your ego. If it’s physically possible, we’re going to make it happen.
Jean-Pierre is an homage to a time known as Les Trente Glorieuses, between 1945 and 1975, when the French standard of living became one of the world’s highest. What was your favourite part of that era in hospitality?
There were no phones or Instagram. When the food hit the table, you were just excited about the meal you were going to have. You were going out to spend time with the person that you were dining with or to spend time with yourself. I also loved the big dessert trolleys with sparklers—the big celebrations. Now, what’s really important is that we don’t take the big celebrations for granted. If tonight, we have ten birthdays booked, that means we have ten groups that made the decision of putting their celebration in our hands. That’s ten chances to make core memories—whether a birthday, an anniversary or a first date.
What element of Jean-Pierre are you most proud of that might go unnoticed by the casual diner?
We’re not just trying to bring another iteration of a French bistro to Hong Kong to make money. Our work is very important to us—every single detail. For example, we’ve spent maybe 50 hours on the playlist, with music that I listened to as a kid when my mum was driving me to a sports lesson. [Even if you don’t understand the language], we hope it resonates with our guests.
What do you think your father would say about this?
My dad put a lot of emphasis on me obtaining my baccalaureate degree. He always stressed the importance of it because he had it. I was never a very good student, but I got it a few months after he passed away. Later, I found out he never actually got it [laughs]. I think deep down he knew that I’d be OK. If he saw me today, he’d laugh—and he’d be very proud.