Not a Restaurant

My father can do things I can't.

He's a great chef, and I have deep respect for the work, experience, knowledge and skill behind that. But I can't do what he does or becomes him. Neither can the next generation coming up behind us. That's the real problem: how do you hand down three generations of skill to people who didn't spend a lifetime building it?

My family has run restaurants for three generations. Does that make us experts? Fully experienced? Not quite. I think every person is different, the way the universe, or God intended. No single system works for everyone.

That's why I say we're not a restaurant. We're the operational force behind one (or two). Magic happens when nobody's watching: food made with passion, knowledge, craft, and love, before it ever reaches the table.

For a long time, our central kitchen didn't even have a name. We named it "Nasi Rice" because our aim was never just to feed our own restaurants. It was to bring that same food home, to every table, not just the ones inside our four walls. The joy of seeing people enjoying our food is highly rewarding to our souls.

Still, I struggle to explain what Nasi Rice actually is. People often mistake us for a traditional restaurant, a takeaway, and honestly, that's on me. In business school, we are taught If you can't explain your business in under 10 words, you don't have a clear pitch.

But new problems need new business models. Here's ours.

Imagine taking on a trainee, or a few. Expecting them to do exactly what you do is extremely challenging.

Imagine teaching someone a hundred recipes and expecting them to cook every one exactly like you would.

Imagine your mum or dad teaching you ten dishes a week, and needing you to get every single one exactly right.

Imagine a trainee who already has their own way of doing things, trained by another cook, another school, but who's here to work for you now.

I could go on about why we run a central kitchen. But here's the real risk: imagine training a chef fully, and then they leave. Not only can they no longer help you, they take your recipe with them. It's not just yours anymore. Imagine a chef who finds it hard or refuses to follow your recipe or your ways. Now your reputation is on the line, and you're losing loyal customers over it. (As my dad's son, even i can't follow exactly what he does).

This is where the central kitchen comes in. Its core purpose is ensure consistency, for the business, and for the customer.

That's what Nasi Rice promises: consistency and quality. Not just for business anymore.

Now, for home too.