The six culinary masters who’ve made this region, at last, the garden of eating. These are the chefs to know.  

By Hal Rubenstein

When we first moved into the home we’d built in Spencertown 16 years ago, we certainly weren’t coming up here for the food. Having reviewed restaurants in New York City for nearly three decades, I was undeniably and unrepentantly spoiled. I mean, The Martindale Diner was fine for a burger but, except for the occasional visit to the warm and welcoming Old Mill in Egremont, I wasn’t finding a lot of eateries worth swooning over. It was puzzling. But having just designed and installed a dream kitchen in the new house, this former caterer was happy to shlep down to Guido’s in Great Barrington, swing by Random Harvest Market in Hillsdale, head up to Golden Harvest Farms in Valatie and head back to the Berry Farm in Chatham, fill my SUV with their superb produce and head home to cook and bake myself into a delirious frenzy—all the while wondering why eateries Upstate weren’t taking advantage of the available bounty of superior meats and produce.  I still love to cook, but these days I’m happy to pass by my cold ovens, grab my coat and head out to explore and indulge in the rapidly growing roster of consistently satisfying, often surprising, more than occasionally thrilling and sometimes obsession-inducing restaurants that can now be found all over the Hudson Valley. 

Writing about these diners, cafés, bakeries, brasseries, inns, bars, wineries, lounges, food trucks, roadside stands, restaurants and alfresco spaces for The Mountains has become a deliciously distracting privilege. But equally gratifying and energizing is meeting and speaking with (and being educated by) the talented, inventive, inspired and inspiring chefs and restaurateurs who’ve created such an enviable and praiseworthy dining landscape that I return to Manhattan a lot less willing to wait so long that I have to shave again just to score a postage stamp table at a no-reservations hot-spot-for-the-moment shoe-horned in a back alley right off Avenue D.

The passionate intelligence driving the six chefs you’re about to read about registers as radiant. Their mutual camaraderie and respect for their colleagues is heartwarming. And best of all, their sincere desire to nourish their customers and embrace their community is likely to make you stop reading repeatedly to make reservations. Speaking with this sextet of culinary artists is the best time I’ve ever had working at this magazine. You’re about to understand why, and if being the beneficiary of their charm and smarts gets you kind of jealous, I guess I should apologize. No way. Why not do yourself a great favor. Meet them in person. You now know where to find them. So, go out to eat. 

Jason Denton

Feast & Floret
13 South 3rd Street, Hudson, NY

When did you head to Hudson? I left New York in 2018, after working at such popular places as Ino, Lupa, Corsino and the Enoteca chain. But my last job was managing OTG at Newark Airport and while it was a great learning experience, it was burnout hard. More than 40,000 people a day pass through the terminal. Some travelers grab a sandwich. Some forked over $150 to eat a tomahawk steak in 40 minutes. After that, I took a year off to figure out what I wanted to do. We came up to Hudson to stay a few weeks and we didn’t leave. We fell in love with the place.

How did you wind up at Feast & Floret? I loved the space when Zak Pelaccio opened it as Fish & Game. He deserved winning a James Beard Award. But the room was dark and very serious. When I took it over, I wanted to make it more user-friendly, softer, more comfortable, with lighter fare. When I met with Zak’s former partners, Patrick and Lavinia Milling-Smith, they suggested creating a flower shop from their garden. This was so much more in my wheelhouse. However, when we opened post-COVID, I would start and end the day in a hazmat suit, disinfecting the place every morning and night. I had a nurse in weekly, testing the staff. That helped gain the trust of the community, and once we got their confidence, we discovered we could do almost anything.

What kind of food became your focus? I don’t consider myself a true chef but I’ve been cooking for 27 years. I like to cook what I like to eat. Meatballs. Dry rub ribs. Chicken Milanese. Anything cooked on an open fire. Russell [Zintel], our pasta guy, is fantastic. April [Cox] is a great gluten-free baker. Our menu is versatile, inventive but not overthought, so you come in by yourself on a Monday, bring in a client for lunch on Wednesday, bring a date on Friday and the family for brunch on Sunday.

Who do you use for sourcing? We first had to convince some purveyors that we could sell 30 steaks or stacks of ribs a week. Now we get Beef from Pat Le Freida. Ribs from Heritage. But the advantage of being up here is you can get specific produce from individual sources. We get our puntarella from Blue Star Farms in Stuyvesant and their weird chicory that looks alien but is uniquely delicious. We love MX Morningstar Farm nearby and Kinderhook Farm for specific cuts of pork and lamb. But I also love to forage and that’s easy in this area.

What are the challenges running a restaurant in this region?  Consistency. Being able to source locally in volume. There’s always an issue with staffing. During our first years we managed with 12 to 15 people. Now we employ about 40. You have to pay people more Upstate because the pool is so much smaller than being in Manhattan and training new people can be a nightmare. Our dishwashers are paid better than some line cooks in Manhattan. I’m proud to have at least two dozen people who not only have been here more than two-and-a-half years but are great ambassadors for what we do.

We’re one of the few places in the area open seven days a week. And some nights can be quiet. However, it’s important to honor your hours. It really bothers me when a restaurant claims to be open from 5 to 10pm, but if it’s a quiet night they close the doors at 9:30 or 9:45. No! You honor those chosen hours. If you walk in here at 9:59 and ask for a tasting menu, you’ll get it. Last time I was in New York we went to Pastis; a big restaurant. It was late, and the weather was crappy, so the place wasn’t crowded. But we were seated and treated like VIPs. It had such a positive lasting effect. That’s how you do it right. 

Where do go out to eat?  I enjoy The Tavern at Rivertown Lodge up the street. Efrén’s has such an inventive and surprising lean menu. And his Casa Susanna in Leeds, is equally, maybe even more, exciting. I often go for good salad at Via Cassia across the street. Stissing House is far from here (Pine Plains), but Clare de Boer is such an outstanding chef, it’s worth the trek.

Do restaurants in the Hudson Valley get the credit they deserve?  When I first came up, friends and colleagues asked, “Where the hell are you going?” But they notice us now. There are too many of us who know what we’re doing and are succeeding at it. There’s no ignoring us. And that feels great. I love it up here.

 

Robert Howay

Aviary
4 Hudson Street, Kinderhook, NY

You’ve had quite the journey prior to landing in Kinderhook haven’t you? Right! I was born in California but grew up in a military family, so we moved a lot: Hawaii for a few years, Japan for a similar period. Plus, my mom was born in Guam, so that cemented my passion for Asian cooking. But when we moved back to the mainland at 15, I started cooking in Memphis, then attending the CIA [Culinary Institute Of America] while taking advantage of a fellowship at Apple Pie Bakery Café in Hyde Park, NY. After graduation, I headed to New York City, made pastries for Daniel Boulud, worked at Eleven Madison Park and Maison Kayser bakery, then landed at Yakitori Torishin in Hell’s Kitchen where I was able to return to my passion for Asian food. When it closed sadly during the pandemic, I cooked for hospital workers and the National Guard. In 2021, I moved back Upstate and was hired at Kitty’s across from the Hudson Amtrak station and suddenly everything changed for me, because of the influx of people who had moved Upstate who now wanted inventive cooking in a laid-back atmosphere. They wanted New York City’s diversity without its frantic pace. And I realized I could be at home here.

I’m exhausted just following that. But how did the Aviary satisfy that desire? Being at the Aviary spoke to me because they had an established focus on Asian cuisine. The original chef, Hannah Wong, is so talented, she had already built a strong, satisfied clientele. It afforded me the perfect platform to adapt my childhood favorites with an even deeper dive thanks to the availability of the area’s superior produce.

What were the challenges taking over the kitchen?  Hudson is technically landlocked, so we sourced our great shrimp and seafood from Browne’s, trading out of Maine (they also do retail) and Go Fish Co. in North Bergen, NJ. But for so much we also rely on locals, such as Farmstead Hudson Valley and Blue Star Farm. 

Was it difficult winning over regulars?  No, they’ve been great. Patrons up here are surprisingly open and adventurous. In fact, initially I got so inspired, I was changing the menu as often as possible, especially adapting to whatever was available that day. But they quickly established favorites that they wanted to see again, which was also a good thing because my enthusiasm was burning out the kitchen staff and I didn’t want to lose them.

What’s the best part about the Aviary? I love the entire Knitting Mill space. It’s brought life to Kinderhook. The clientele is so enthusiastic and open, and the staff is smart and supportive; they give me the freedom to indulge in my heritage. And the uniqueness of the space makes the Aviary a great escape.

Are there specific places you shop at? The Asian Supermarket and Kim’s Asian Market which are both on Central Avenue in Albany. I also go down to H Mart in Brooklyn’s Industry City.

When not in the restaurant, where do you go out to eat? I have to be honest: My world is so small. I almost never get out of the Knitting Mill compound. It’s become a reflection point for me. I tend to stay close at Broad Street Bagel Company or Saisonnier, when I’m craving grilled cheese. On the rare times I venture out, I’ll go to Casa Susanna, The Tavern at Rivertown Lodge, Café Mutton in Hudson or pizza at Hudson & Packard in Poughkeepsie.

Tell me about your dream restaurant. I’d love to open either a breakfast place like the Midnight Diner that’s on the Upper East Side or open a small Izakaya restaurant which is like a Japanese version of a late-night Irish pub.

 

Mark Margiotta

{pretty to think so}
6417 Montgomery St, Rhinebeck, NY

When did food first become a passion? I always knew I wanted to cook. My grandparents had a family restaurant in Peekskill, NY, called Paradise. I washed dishes, did prep and made pizza dough when I was 13. Both my parents worked, so my sister and I made dinner. When my sister got tired of my hamburgers and hot dogs, I took out cookbooks from the library to learn how to make something else. 

But you’re not simply self-taught. I learned by school and on-the-job experience. The Culinary Institute in Hyde Park gave me a good foundation, especially in French cuisine. But soon as I turned 16 and got wheels, I worked at three places: a café in Cold Spring, NY, which had a bakery, the Millbrook Carriage House and Brasserie 292 in Poughkeepsie. 

After graduation, my first kitchen was the Millhouse Inn. Then I worked at the Michelin starred Eleven Madison Park in the city for two years before coming back Upstate to become a partner in The Dutchess in Clinton, NY, and in five years, acquired a legendary reputation.

What’s the difference between Eleven Madison Park and The Dutchess?  Not that much. In fact, our Dutchess menu was influenced by Eleven Madison Park, because both boast clean cooking that’s gluten free and dairy free, perfect for a wellness retreat. Our advantage at Dutchess was having a farm on the property and easy access to local organic farmers.

What was the spark to create {pretty  to think so}? Initially, we were just going to do a bar serving small bites but when we removed that limitation, we focused our attention to produce from both local farmers and growing as much of our food as possible. However, it’s an injustice to call what I have a farm. I call it a “medium-husky garden,” but in less than an acre, we grow enough berries, herbs, salad greens, tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, Bok choy, kale, collard greens, squash and cucumbers, to cover about 40 percent of the produce we use.

Have diners’ habits changed since you’ve been in this region? People are more conscious of what they’re eating and I think our passion has played into that. We don’t overlook gluten or celiac intolerance. The hunger for gluten-free bread is huge.

What’s special about the Hudson Valley?  We’re blessed to live in an area with amazing produce and livestock and fisheries. And people in the Hudson Valley are more educated about food thanks to the positive influence from the city’s abundance of cuisines and some of the best restaurants in the world. Also, the increased competition Upstate is not a negative—it’s a real impetus to create a very good restaurant.

What’s good about being a chef? The instant satisfaction. Even as a kid, I’d wake up real early, make eclairs and cream puffs and then go “Oh, my God. This is so good!” I always found it rewarding. Turns out I’m not alone. There’s a sincere appreciation for preparing something that elevates a customer’s nutrition, fuel and spirits.

What local places do you work with? We work with Maple View Farm in Poughquag; Hemlock Hill Farm in Cortland, where we get our ducks; 1841 farm in Rhinebeck; Adams Fairacre Farms in Middletown; Gadaletto’s in New Paltz for fish and farmers markets everywhere.

How hard is it to be successful north of the city? We know prices are higher than we expected. Customers sometimes suffer sticker shock. But it’s hard to hear assumptions that we’re leaving the restaurants rolling in dough. Restaurants have low profit margins. Maybe ten percent. There’s only so much I can do when I put a chicken on the menu that’s responsibly raised, humanely killed. A month ago, eggs were $55 for 15 dozen. Two weeks ago, they were $150. So much for making an inexpensive omelet.

What do you eat at home? Mostly what my girlfriend wants, which is rice and eggs. My favorite meal is roast chicken with some vegetables and then turn the leftovers into soup. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. I prefer savory desserts. Maybe cookies. 

Where do you go out to eat? La Cabañita for Mexican in Poughkeepsie; SushiMakio in Kingston; Bia, the Irish bistro in Rhinebeck—the cocktails are amazing. 

Any dream restaurant in the future? Perhaps when we’ve grown as much as we can here, I’d love a small restaurant on a farm where everything you’re about to eat has been raised and grown outside your window. 

Do restaurants in the Hudson Valley get the credit they deserve? I don’t want to say no, but I wince when people compliment us by saying we’re “really good, for Upstate New York.” I realize it’s an obvious comparison, but it rings a tinny little bell. Happily, it’s happening less and less. Our customers are very happy and so are we.

Jordan Schor

End Cut
1746 Route 9W, West Park, NY

When were you first exposed to actual good food? I was raised in the hospitality business. My dad ran the Homowack Lodge in the Catskills. And cooking happened organically because we always had huge dinners at home—feasts. Atypically, my parents only shopped for what we were eating that day. Fresh fish from Night Swim in Kingston; fresh vegetables from a local greengrocer; and meat from a kosher butcher.

When did you start cooking? At seven, I was peeling potatoes and breading chicken. I had my own snack shop at the local country club at 14. Hamburgers and hot dogs for those members taking aquarobics. My first kitchen was at a Holiday Inn in 2000. I opened my first store when I was 28,

a former greasy spoon with 18 seats. I thought I knew everything. I was going to take the world by storm. Except you can’t make money with 18 seats, $4 egg sandwiches, no marketing and a bad exhaust system. I learned so much from my mistakes.

When did your fortunes change? Jordan’s Bistro was a late-night pizzeria in New Paltz, NY, open from 10pm-5am. The rent was high but so was the volume. Then I moved across the street in 2015 and opened my first End Cut. It became my test kitchen. I baked my own bread, made cheese, rolled my own raviolis, made the ice creams. It worked, but I realized you need to own the building, have two bathrooms and parking. We opened here in 2019, and it’s been gratifying ever since.

What was the impetus behind End Cut? I didn’t mean to build it around beef. The menu was French-Italian fusion with chicken, fish and pasta, but when you offer great steaks, people expect creamed spinach, steak fries, baked clams, crab cake. You can’t fight the formula. Last Valentine’s Day, 140 customers ordered 110 steaks. It’s the ultimate comfort food. 

What are you most proud of? People in New York are used to overpaying for steak, but it’s not the cost that drives me crazy. It’s the bad or entitled management, no cursory waiters. Not only can I offer a 45-day-aged, grass-fed New York strip for $52, I offer great hospitality: excellent service, a romantic pianist, nuts before the meal, an intermezzo between courses, hand towels, granola when you leave that’s so good the chef of Eleven Madison Park raved about it. I take notes on my customers. I know their names, their birthdays, I know who drinks Guinness dark. A seemingly minor gesture can make a lasting impression. People appreciate being acknowledged. 

Have dining habits changed post-COVID? We get a good cross section of customers. Generationally, people eat differently. Younger diners don’t order bottles of wine. I’m hard pressed to get them to order more than a cocktail. They eat and get out quick. Older guests stay longer. I trust word of mouth, but I have to admit, I recently hired someone to do social media, and whenever she posts, the phone rings like crazy. I finally embraced it because business is starting to explode.

Where do you go out to eat? Il Figlio Enoteca in Fishkill, NY, heavenly pasta in an old Walgreens. Asia in Stone Ridge, a fusion sushi restaurant run by sisters from Malaysia. The Klocke Estate in Hudson—the owners have created a place that’s next level.

What’s next? I have a million ideas. We’re opening the back yard, with fire pits and maybe a food truck. I’d also love to create a space that feels like my home, where people would sit by the fire, never wanting to leave. The great chef Thomas Keller (Per Se, The French Laundry) says chefs cook because they live to nurture. When people come to End Cut, I want them to have a great time and feel it’s the best part of their day. 

Efrén Hernández

The Tavern at Rivertown Lodge
731 Warren Street, Hudson, NY

Casa Susanna
800 County Rd 23B, Leeds, NY

How did you come to Rivertown? I had run two restaurants in Manhattan in the Village—Mimi on Sullivan Street, and then Babs, which was going really well until we got slammed by COVID. So, my wife and I headed Upstate for safety. Rivertown had an existing restaurant before I got there. The menu was farm-to-table, as representative of the Hudson Valley as you can get. But I like to make things that are surprising, food you can’t make at home. I have to admit, it reads weird on paper. But maybe because we opened during the waning months of COVID, with seating safely outside in the parking lot, and people were so excited to have somewhere to go, we were busy right away. 

Did you have a period of adjustment? The toughest difference was getting used to the delivery schedule. In New York City, you can get everything every day. Upstate, there were things such as fish that could only be delivered once a week. So, I had to vacuum pack and flash freeze. But that’s improved over time. 

But the difference that’s a real positive is because you’re servicing a lot more locals, you get to know them personally. In the city, your clientele is mainly anonymous. You don’t know them. But up here you develop relationships, find out what folks like or want. Please don’t get rid of this pasta dish, or can you change the way this fish is prepared. Your store becomes more user-friendly. 

Rivertown’s food is quirky. Casa Susanna has a radically different menu. The plan was always to open a second place, but Casa didn’t start out as a Mexican restaurant. During my career, I’ve been cooking mainly French, Italian or New American, so I picked up skills in all those techniques. But when my partners asked me, if it was up to me what would I do, I’d been so far away from home and family in Jalisco, México, for so long, that I needed something to feel connected. I wanted to make the food that I grew up with. So, we went with that concept. 

But your menu’s different than familiar Mexican fare, which is Tex-Mex. You’re not pushing chimichangas, burritos and guacamole. Were you worried your choices would be too out there? Nope. I guess it was so naturally satisfying to me. I never doubted it would work. I love this food so much, it just made sense.

Are the dishes exactly the way they’re made at home? Pretty much but with some adjustment. It’s authentic Mexican cuisine with a lens on the Hudson Valley. For example, we don’t use avocado because they’re tropical and don’t grow in New York. We do import corn, though, because we don’t use pre-made masa since it’s so much more flavorful made fresh. We do a pretty good job of blending ancient and modern techniques. 

Was your menu immediately accepted? Almost. Actually, the only obstacle was that I originally wrote the menu mainly in Spanish to be authentic, but the dishes were so unfamiliar to customers, the waiters wound up stuck at tables explaining almost every dish, so I translated just enough into English to free them up. 

You have items I’ve rarely encountered anywhere else. I’m no fan of sweetbreads but wrapped in your tacos they’re irresistible. And I will twist arms if I must to get guests to order your goat—because it’s sensational. Spaniards brought goats to Jalisco. We call the stew Birria, an intense form of braising, and it’s very common at home because people believe it’s a surefire hangover cure. I’m delighted our customers no longer think the food is strange and embrace it as a kind of home cooking. People mistakenly think of Mexican food as cheap and fast so I’m proud that we’ve excited their tasted buds and won their respect. 

When you aren’t cooking at home, where do you like to eat? I like to go to Feast & Floret on daddy-daughter dates. Café Mutton in Hudson with my wife. Mel the Bakery on Warren Street for lunch. Nora [Allen] is amazing, and her partner makes those incredible sandwiches. My daughter can eat a whole baguette.

Do restaurants in our area get the spotlight they deserve? There aren’t any Michelin stars here yet, but there are numerous places including Feast, Mutton and Lil’ Deb’s Oasis that are getting recognition from James Beard. But honestly, what’s more important is that our clientele consider our places welcome destinations. Awards are great, but happy customers are what keeps you in business. Right now, that’s all the recognition I need. 

Nora Allen

Mel the Bakery
324 Warren Street, Hudson, NY 

When did you fall in love with baking? I’m such a cliché. I’ve been baking since I was eight years old. I’d sell my cakes and pies when I was in school to raise money for causes, got my first job as an assistant pastry chef at 14. When I attended Bates College in Maine, I worked at a farm kitchen. When I graduated, I moved to Nashville and made pastries for a small butcher shop, of all things. In fact, that’s where I met the guys from The Meat Hook, with whom I now share the space on Warren Street.  

What’s at the heart of your passion for baking? Believe it or not, it’s flour. It’s funny. We make a big deal about how chickens and beef are raised, how vegetables are grown. You should start asking where your flour comes from. It makes an enormous difference. I know it was a catalyst for the instant success we experienced when we first opened Mel’s in Chinatown.

What’s so different about your flour? I travel to mills the way art lovers go to galleries. From the first mills I visited in North Carolina, I was blown away by the difference in texture and flavor of stone ground or Nurtrimilled flour. Even a decent flour in the supermarket like King Arthur is put through what’s called a roller mill. It’s like a woodchipper for wheat. What comes out is powder, with most of the nutritional value sifted out. But the flours from farms including Wild Hive in Clinton Corners, NY, or Sparrowbush in Livingston, NY, offer an incredible variety of grains, and you witness the enzyme action from the yeast and bacteria. It’s a living version of flour in action. I even mill some of my own because the increase in flavor is palpable. Look for them in local farmers markets. I’ll stop because I can go on about this for hours.

But you’re selling a lot more than bread. That’s a result of various baking experiences in San Francisco, Colorado and Washington, DC, where I’m from. I also worked for two years at Roberta’s in Brooklyn, which started the current pizza revolution, began a bread program at The Standard hotel in Manhattan’s Meatpacking District, reaching out to local mills to develop my recipes. I’ve always sought out places that shared my principle of wanting to have fun while making extraordinary food. 

Then in 2020 after sourcing grain farms for six months, we opened the first Mel’s. I can’t say I was stunned, because I had such faith in what we were doing, and we had wildly enthusiastic fans from the moment we opened. Maybe it was the seduction of smelling just-baked goods on site, but we never stopped for two-and-a-half years. 

Why did you close it down? My partner wanted to move Upstate. Plus, we’d outgrown the space. It was one-tenth the size of what we have now; could hardly find anywhere to cool a muffin. I needed to have a commissary. So, we closed in December 2023 and five months later signed a lease and opened on Warren Street [Hudson] in three weeks. 

That sounds stressful. Honestly, a lot of things in my life became so much easier. More space. Easier distribution. Try getting 1800 pounds of flour delivered in Chinatown. Hudson Valley farmers are a dream. And once again, our clients showed up right away.

Your smoked salmon focaccia is epic. Right up there with the pastrami tower at Katz’s Delicatessen in the Lower East Side. When you’re home what do you eat? I’m such a boring eater; whatever stock that was no longer fresh enough to sell, vegetables and rice. My partner Ashley, however, does make a sensational meatloaf. I told you I was boring.

Quick success is always gratifying. But it’s more than that. I feel so lucky to bake for the people in this region. Though we immediately loved living up here, I didn’t expect to make friends, to find a community, to be part of a committed neighborhood that wants to eat and live well. 

Is that so different than your New York City regulars? I’m so impressed with Hudson Valley customers. Once we earned their trust and they realized we were sourcing everything locally, they became adventurous and connected. In New York, everyone’s in a rush. Here, it’s more about people stopping by. I’m so happy to watch people sit outside, sharing and savoring a sandwich or pastry. It just inspires me to make more delicious products. 

Do you go out to eat? When I first moved here, I’d hang out at Wunderbar Bistro up Warren Street because they’re so friendly. I love Efrén’s food, funky taverns such as Jackson’s Old Chatham House. and Lil’ Deb’s Oasis is so unique. It’s like they caught lightning in a bottle. 

What’s next? We’ve acquired a beer and wine license and will soon open on Tuesday nights for special light dinners—small bites or pizza, grilled cheese, gourmet hot dogs or ceviches, maybe use it as a pop-up for visiting chefs who want to collaborate with us. 

A little birdie chef named Efrén [Hernández] recently told me about something else exciting…I love my partner dearly—Ashley Bernan is both an amazing person and an amazing chef. She’s always wanted to run a diner and has looked longingly at Grazin’ Diner up the street since we moved here. Well, the stars aligned because Grazin’ recently closed and the owners wanted to sell. We’ve known the Meat Hook guys for 12 years. In fact, we persuaded them to move up here to the space next to ours. Now, she and Brent [Young] are going to take over the diner. I’m not involved. It’s their independent project, but I’m so excited to see what they’re going to do.

Whether you’re connected or not, the good will you’ve built with Mel the Bakery will certainly give them amazing momentum. I know, but I’m content to be a spectator. The only thing I might help with is hiring staff, because the type of person you hire is so essential to success. We all agree you look for people who strike the balance between investment in the work and making people know you’re glad they showed up. You can usually teach someone to cook, but you can’t teach them to be kind. 

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