Olallie Update (VII): Finding an architect

Friday we finally submitted our application to the San Francisco Department of Building Inspection! Hooray!!! Developing the plan for the restaurant has consumed 110% of my creative energy these past 3 or 4 months (hence very little writing on my blog or cooking at home).

What does it take to prepare a building department application and why did it take 4 months to produce? Over the next few posts, I will share highlights of the restaurant planning process and catch you up to date as quickly as possible. Join me on a trip a few months back in time while I recount stories from hiring the architect to choosing the equipment to creating the restaurant's distinctive look and feel. I'll post the topics roughly in the order that they occurred. This first one, finding an architect, took place in late autumn last year.

Previous progress reports on my upcoming San Francisco restaurant, Olallie, can be found here: Prequel, Intro, Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI

As you may recall, I've chosen to build a restaurant the hard way. Rather than remodel an existing restaurant space, I've opted to start from scratch and build one from the ground up. I'm renovating a decidedly homely 100-year old storefront in San Francisco's Noe Valley that was a "tonsorial parlor" (barber shop) for decades, then became a fish market, a variety of clothing stores, and, most recently, a computer services store.

I'm reminded every day that it's no small undertaking to transform this approximately 20- by 60-feet space into a restaurant. It's not the sort of project where I can do the work on my own with a crow bar, a hammer, a paint brush, and the help of a few handy friends.

The scope of the work has required me to hire an architect (and a kitchen designer, structural engineer, lighting designer, and ventilation designer for the hood over the stove... and that's before we even start construction).

Ask me where to find pasture raised goat meat and I can answer without thinking. But architects? Before I started this project, my knowledge of architecture was limited to the intricacies of stacking french fries on top of steaks.

While we had a successful relationship with the architect who helped us get the city approval to build our restaurant, for various reasons we decided we wanted to work with someone else on the main design.

I gathered dozens of names of potential candidates through internet searches, restaurant reviews, restaurant websites, discussions with restaurant owners, and referrals from architects who were parents of kids at my wife's school. I whittled my list down to four and arranged to meet them at the site of my future restaurant.

For each candidate, I took a few minutes to describe my concept and play a quick slide show on my iBook that featured restaurant designs I like and photos of my food. I handed out a possible menu. I also described how many seats I needed to make the restaurant viable (lots) and the size of my budget (tiny).

Only one architect really got it. He listened carefully and understood exactly what I wanted. Where other architects had seen headaches and space constraints, he saw potential. His refreshing optimism quashed the sense of dread I had increasingly been feeling over having ever signed on the dotted line to take over this location.

"There's a real potential to make the back garden an integral part of the space," the Architect said. "In many of these storefront spaces that's simply not possible. The connection between the indoor and outdoor spaces would perfectly reflect your menu's focus on seasonality and the farm to table connection. I envision it having the openness of an outdoor marketplace."

"Wow, that sounds amazing." But then I remembered the few drawings that my previous architect and I had worked on, where the kitchen obscured the view of the back garden from the dining room.

"But where will the kitchen go? Doesn't it have to live along one of the sides or in the back? The kitchen will pretty much block any view of the backyard. Unless," I scoffed, shaking my head at the absurdity of the notion, "you put the kitchen in the front."

The Architect's eyes lit up and he smiled. "We'll take measurements and see what we can do. I really think there's a lot of potential here to make something different that will reflect your restaurant's concept and your values."

His quick grasp of my vision for my restaurant blew me away and filled me with hope. In the subsequent weeks I received proposals and cost estimates from all of the candidates and was happy to see that his was in line and competetive with the others. Within a couple of weeks we had happily signed his firm onto our job.

In the next post, I'll describe our initial design meetings where he and his team unveiled their design ideas. Though it may not be true, I'm convinced that the completed restaurant will be exactly what the Architect pictured in his mind after having been in the space all of 10 minutes.

Food|and Drink|Restaurants|Opening Restaurant|San Francisco

Comments

[Doug]

Good to see all the restaurant posts in one place so I could get caught up. Sounds like Olallie is well on its way :)

[barbara]

Great to see you back posting Brett. Looms like things are going to plan with the restaurant.

[Tracy]

Hello,
I am so glad to see some activity on your blog! I am one of the owners of the independent bookstore across the street from your future location and I have been anxiously awaiting some kind of update on your project. Both personally and for the neighborhood, we're thrilled welcome you! Good luck, and we'll keep checking up on your progress.

[Bart]

Het Brett, It's very exciting to read about the progess of your restaurant--I am fascinated by how these things come together. I hope you're also being tracked by a TV crew. More importantly I cain't hardly wait til Olallie's opens and I can order some of your paella stuffed squid. Best squid dish I've ever had.

[Wild]

While we wait for the next installment, tell us:
Where do you get pasture raised goat meat?

[Brett]

Doug and barbara, yes, progress is being made, albeit slowly. Thanks for continuing to stop by IPOS.

Tracy, thanks for dropping a line on IPOS. I love Cover to Cover and am excited to be across the street from your store and from the excellent culinary store next door to you.

Bart, I can't wait to be cooking in my own kitchen again. One order of squid hot from the oven coming soon!

Wild, you can occasionally find grass fed goat meat at Marin Sun Farms' stand at the Saturday Ferry Plaza market. Ask them when it will be available next.

[Tracy]

Brett, maybe when you are getting ready to open we can do something, like a window display of cookbooks and an announcement of your opening. I'm sure that Malcolm from the cooking supply store next door would be into it too (we've done several things together- including a Harry Potter party a couple of years ago.)