Can Akkaya

Leadership in hospitality is not about having all the answers. It is about creating an environment where people feel cared for, supported, challenged, and proud of what they are part of. The details matter, but people matter more — and the best results come when both are taken seriously. A leader is responsible for the culture they create. If you want a team to care, you have to show care first.

It is about people, consistency, training, sourcing, communication, and care. Every successful product has a reason behind it. If one version is better than another, it is usually because of the attention to detail behind it — the countless trials, the failures, the adjustments, and the people who cared enough to keep improving it.

Hospitality can be demanding, and burnout is real, but there are many different ways to build a meaningful career in this industry. Find the part of the work that still gives you energy. Ask for support. Keep learning. Also, remember that your path does not have to look exactly like someone else’s. Sometimes you need to step back, look honestly at what matters to you, and find the version of this industry where you can still care.

Discipline, kindness, consistency, and care may not always be the loudest qualities in the room, but they are the qualities that last. Failure is part of the work. What matters is whether you learn from it and come back better.

Learn from every role, every chef, every difficult service, and every mistake. Some of the most valuable lessons in this industry come from the moments that feel uncomfortable at the time.

I also believe that what we spend time teaching becomes important to the team. If we want people to care about the details, we have to show them why those details matter. I believe in tasting together, asking questions, giving honest feedback, and making people feel part of the process rather than just handing them instructions.

It is not just “place this garnish here” or “cook it this way.” It is about understanding how every step impacts the final guest experience.

I like anything that helps me understand how people eat, how businesses grow, and how creative ideas become real experiences. I also enjoy writing and stories that remind me to look at the world with more curiosity and humanity. Sometimes inspiration comes from a chef’s cookbook, and sometimes it comes from something completely outside of food.

Hospitality can easily become all-consuming, especially when you care deeply about the work. Spending time with my family, cooking without pressure, traveling, walking, and giving myself space to think all help me stay grounded. I have also learned that rest is not a weakness. It is part of being able to lead and create well. You cannot care for the work, the guest, or the team in a meaningful way if you never take care of yourself.

I also find a lot of inspiration in our cafés. Watching how guests respond, seeing what our teams are proud to serve, and understanding where we can make something better all inspire me.

They are thoughtful, clear, and executable. If one version of a product is better than another, there is usually a reason behind it: attention to detail, countless trials, failures, adjustments, and a team that cares enough to keep improving it. That balance takes patience, humility, listening, and the willingness to keep going back to the table until the product is right.

That is an important responsibility. We are not just making food that tastes good to us; we are making choices on behalf of the guest, the brand, and the team that will execute it. That requires judgment, care, and a deep respect for the details.

In culinary product development, you need to think like a chef, an operator, a trainer, and a guest at the same time. You have to ask: Is it delicious? Can our teams execute it? Is it consistent? Does it feel like Tatte? I believe innovation is about creating a beautifully designed problem that the team can solve. A new product should push us forward, but it should also give the team a clear path to success. To do that well, you need to be fluent in your discipline and fluent in your environment. You need to understand the food, the technique, the equipment, the pace of service, the training needs, the guest experience, and the purpose of the product within the brand.

Technical skills are important, but they can be taught. What matters most is whether someone cares — about the food, the guest, the team, and the small details that no one may notice at first, but everyone can feel in the final experience. I also look for people who understand responsibility. In hospitality, once you are trusted with a station, a recipe, a guest, or a team, you become responsible for the outcome. That responsibility is not a burden; it is what gives the work meaning.

In food, your first version may be good, but it is rarely the best version. You have to stay open, listen to feedback, taste honestly, and be willing to go back and make it better. Over time, I learned that progress usually comes from looking beyond the surface. A dish may look finished, but if you pay close attention, it will tell you what it still needs. That mindset has helped me a lot in product development.

A dish, a team, or a guest experience becomes special because we choose to care for it with intention. A great idea only becomes successful when the team can execute it with confidence and pride.