In 1963, well before Washington became a stop on the global restaurant map, businessman Stuart Davidson decided what the nation’s capital needed was a good old-fashioned American saloon. Being the enterprising type, he opened one himself and called it Clyde’s. Why a saloon?
“Because,” replied Davidson, in what would become an oft-quoted remark, “it’s more fun to eat in a saloon than drink in a restaurant.” Davidson, who died in 2001, never had to eat his words. Today, Clyde’s Restaurant Group owns a string of what are not just very good restaurants but also very profitable ones.
The Group’s mini-empire includes the seven Clyde’s locations (Georgetown and Gallery Place in D.C.; Chevy Chase and Columbia in Maryland; and Reston, Tysons Corner and Alexandria’s Mark Center in Virginia); the Tower Oaks Lodge in Rockville; and—also in the District—1789, F. Scott’s, The Tombs and Old Ebbitt Grill, by sales volume the nation’s fifth-most-popular
restaurant. This November, in response to the burgeoning of Virginia’s Loudoun County, the fastest-growing county in America, the Group will open Clyde’s of Broadlands, just off the Dulles Greenway.
It’s no accident that all these establishments have retained their inner saloon. Tom Meyer, executive vice president of Clyde’s Restaurant Group, says, “We’re a saloon first, so we make sure we put a good sandwich on a plate and serve a cold beer.” Washington has seen any number of imitators since 1963, but hardly any of them are still around. What’s the secret of the Group’s long-term success? “If our company has a ‘personality,’ it’s that we hold change as a major value,” says Meyer, a Culinary Institute of America graduate who worked as a corporate chef before coming to Clyde’s in 1983.
“Our menus change all the time. Only 40 percent of the items on it are core items,” says Meyer. “I think we were the first restaurant in Washington to cook seasonally.” How did this get started? “One summer day, [co-owner John] Laytham and I were having breakfast in the M Street restaurant, and we were served a cold melon. We’d just driven back from the beach on Route 50, where you couldn’t roll down the window without smelling melons. But we couldn’t get them from our supplier; the only way we could get melons was to [buy] them ourselves—which is what we did. That was the beginning of serving fresh products. Everyone knows we’re a saloon, and we’re not embarrassed to sell a lot of booze—I tell people we sell plenty of whiskey sandwiches—but we always lead with the food … and we want it to be great.”
Despite the fact that the Group has a dozen restaurants, it is not a chain. Who, then, is the competition? “My stock answer is: everybody,” says Meyer. “It sounds cliché, but if someone is on their way here and stops to buy a hot dog from the guy on the corner, then he’s my competition. I tell our staff that people coming here for lunch have probably walked past 20 restaurants, so be flattered or thankful that people want to eat in your restaurant. How you handle them is critical.”
Meyer considers Houston’s and the Great American Restaurants group worthy opponents. “Fifteen years ago, we used to own the casual dining segment, but now there are real players in that area, good restaurants that do a good job, like the Cheesecake Factory and P.F. Chang’s China Bistro.”
Perhaps one of the reasons why the Group has done so well in a business where it’s been said nine out of 10 new restaurants fail within the first year is that its expansion has never been part of a rigid schedule with hard deadlines. In most cases, the Group opened new places because the developers of an area came to them, not the other way around.
“We’ve never been in a rush to open a lot of restaurants,” Meyer says, “and that wait-and-see attitude has paid off. Stuart started the first Clyde’s with $80,000 of his own money in 1963, and he never had to put in another 10 cents. We’ve been profitable from day one.” (According to Clyde’s CFO Jeff Owens, the Group had $80 million in revenue in 2005 and, thanks to the November 2005 opening of Clyde’s of Gallery Place and the upcoming debut of the 13th restaurant, anticipates revenue of $100 million in 2006.)
Clyde’s of Broadlands, the next link in the non-chain, has been designed to blend in with Middleburg’s horsey-set ethos. “We’re having five buildings shipped down from Vermont,” Meyer says. “A big barn, an old tavern and several other 200-year-old buildings. They’ve already been disassembled and are en route.”
The only way to stay on top of nearly 2,000 employees working in 13 separate restaurants is to treat them as professionals. “One of the keys is to spend the right amount of time with people to make sure they have learned their jobs, which is why we’re probably the only restaurant around with such an extensive management training program—seven days of classes, where we teach the ‘One-Minute Manager’ principles. We’re not splitting the atom here, but it is pretty hard work, and it requires a lot of focus. I know a lot of successful people—doctors, lawyers, et cetera—but I don’t know anybody who is successful that doesn’t work really hard. And this business is no different.”
Do the brains behind the Group, now in its fifth decade of profitable operation, worry about food critics, the bane of restaurants? “Being a saloon, we’re never really going to appeal to critics, so I don’t pay attention to them anymore. My critics are here every day. When they take out their American Express card, that’s my biggest critic. We just try to fill the place up every day and then figure out a way to make money. And the busier you are, the more money you make.”
Clyde’s Restaurant Group is proud of the fact that it has never had to close a restaurant, but even prouder that its sales volume is greater than that of any other restaurant or group or chain of restaurants in Washington. “It’s human nature to get a little cocky when you’re on top,” Meyer says, “but I always tell my people what my mentor John Laytham told me: ‘You never want to confuse success with excellence.’ ” At the Group, they serve up both.