Some of the greatest things we said or did, we never knew we said or did. The older you get, the more that statement is shared with you. As a youth, I had nothing to add to the conversation, and so respectfully, my mom would ask that I listen—a great muscle memory practice that I still use today. A close friend of thirty years once commented, “Lawrence, you have always been reserved in your comments, but when you do say something, I learn.”
Reading and writing are among the most valuable gifts available to us. Aside from work-related reading, I also read to learn, and I approach writing the same way. Just as steps tracked on your phone don’t necessarily lead to better health, reading simply to react or complete a task isn’t the same as reading to gain knowledge. Now that I’m older, I wake up earlier and do most of my reading and writing between 5 and 7 in the morning. During these hours, my mind is sharp, the surroundings are peaceful, and my thoughts are more focused. Each morning, I turn to two favorite books, Spiritual Leadership and Tao Te Ching, reading a few pages from each.
I’ve spent eight years writing for Club and Resort Chef, after six years previously journaling in Asia. Sometimes I worry about relevance or being over-published, but my writing has helped me gain perspective beyond culinary and club life. It improves the questions I ask myself and others, and these skills are strengthened by serving members and meeting exceptional people at sister clubs. Most mentors, parents, and siblings I’ve encountered read, write, or exercise for brain health.
Each article receives heartfelt messages, sometimes even months later during future club visits. General Managers frequently express gratitude for insights into kitchens—an area that can feel unfamiliar and even intimidating to them. As one GM noted, knowing someone well reduces misunderstanding, while distance in relationships breeds it. Building these relationships requires genuine effort to understand and connect in both the kitchen and the GM’s office.
When I read or listen to something, the words often resonate with me differently. In many spiritual traditions, recitation or meditation is used to internalize beliefs. At Ritz-Carlton, this is called “lineup,” where we recited our daily credo, the daily basis, and the employee promise. Over time, these words become part of our beliefs, offering comfort and a sense of shared purpose.
Change starts with personal action. While words matter, actions have more impact. The way we behave—through our habits, attire, and values—influences others in any organization. At Ritz-Carlton, leadership was often passion-driven, while Marriott’s was more restrained, though both valued wisdom and intelligence, expressed in different ways that reflected distinct cultures. Executive chefs often face tension between traditional training and modern productivity. What once felt team-oriented may now seem outdated. Learning from diverse sources helps refine your vision and keep your approach relevant. These lessons come through continued reading and learning from others.
Recently, I attended a presentation by a respected colleague on the topic of delegation. With nearly 30 years of culinary experience, he addressed an audience that included both emerging chefs and seasoned professionals nearing retirement. His message was likely received in a variety of ways, influenced by differing perspectives and mindsets. This diversity of response is particularly relevant to my blog, as I have observed comments appearing sporadically—sometimes after several articles—that indicate that, at certain moments, my content has resonated with readers. Positive engagement, such as appreciation for kindness, tends to foster a sense of community, while negativity can lead to division. Many organizations say culture is important, but their actions—or the frequency with which they discuss it—suggest otherwise.
When I write, I value generating my own ideas. This makes AI helpful for basic editing but risky for creative expression or personal storytelling. Using tools like Copilot for projects left me unsatisfied because it took away the satisfaction of original thought—the dopamine hit of creativity. Relying too heavily on AI is like chefs copying cookbooks; it prevents authentic growth. In leadership, following is necessary to learn, but taking risks leads to true personal reward. While AI is useful for certain routine tasks, depending on it for creativity can undermine authenticity. Like all tools of communication—email, the web, and now AI—the output reflects the interpretation of the individual author.
Throughout my career, the most impactful conversations have primarily taken place verbally rather than through written communication such as email or text. Over time, my focus has shifted significantly; I now value the company I dine with more than the meal itself—a notable change from when my attention was solely on food, regardless of companions. When peers remark, “Lawrence, that was the best thing I ever ate,” I often ask, “Did you share it with your mother?” This question reflects the evolution described in my professional autobiography.
As an Executive Chef, I once viewed dining as an avenue for research and development. Today, it serves as an opportunity to connect with and listen to others. It is important for committee members to recognize that their perception of food may differ from that of their chef. Both perspectives are valid, and practicing empathy—seeking to understand before being understood—is fundamental to effective collaboration. What is not said can also be a valuable tool for those with high emotional intelligence.
