Don’t Stop Believin’ In A Whole New World October 31, 2009
Posted by Alexander Sawit in News & Events.1 comment so far
By Alex Sawit
31 October 2009
It’s been a fun October at the shop thanks to the amazing voice (or voices) of our favorite YouTube™ sensation, Nick Pitera. I’ve been showing his videos to unsuspecting visitors all month long and I still haven’t gotten tired of audience reactions to his jaw-dropping renditions of A Whole New World (his version of Brad King and Lea Salonga singing from Disney’s Aladdin) and Don’t Stop Believin’ (his duet version of the Glee cover of the Journey song). He’s a very good male vocalist but everybody agrees that his crossover voice is even better. A lot of women would kill to sing this good.
I guess it’s fitting that we were playing these two songs night after night for guests even if only for their gag value. This was a month of big change at our little neighborhood wine shop. In a cheesy but endearing way, these songs happily expressed our outlook on a whole new world of business opportunities that we now want to pursue.
When we opened Cyrano five years ago on October 23, 2004, we had a clear idea of what we wanted to be. But while we succeeded in creating a selling concept that would later become the “Cyrano friends” experience, for lack of resources we fell short of our final vision. The whole concept was sound but the execution needed a new spark of life. If we were ever going to achieve that vision then we had to get the people we needed to make it happen.
So we did. Allow me to officially introduce you to Cyrano’s new partners: Ric Dizon, Jonathan “Joco” Co and Cecile Mauricio.
Most Cyrano friends already know Ric and Joco as two of their own. We met Ric years ago after we opened shop and discovered 1) that he owned a spa across the street and 2) that he had recently visited Napa Valley and picked up a liking for wine. Though he gave up his stake in the spa not long afterward, Ric remained a believer in Cyrano. He’s a street smart guy with a fertile entrepreneurial mind, but more than that he has also become a dear friend, one whom I praise for his generosity of spirit and whom I admire for his faith in the goodness of others.
Joco? He’s been a believer in Cyrano since, well, forever. Equally adept at discussing the product benefits of using polyethylene terephthalate as he is at making a tour guide pitch about the Quail’s Gate vineyard estate in British Columbia, Joco brings both a discriminating wine palate and a process-oriented way of thinking to the business. Plus he instantly improves the view from our window every time he parks his red Porsche 911 out front.
Then there’s my longtime friend Cecile. One of the classiest ladies I’ve ever met, she speaks impeccable French, is an excellent bread maker and is now a devoted martial artist (good luck trying to take her away from her kendo practice). But that’s gravy. Cecile is an influential food & wine writer and is a much sought after consultant in the industry (she recently designed the training course for wine at La Salle Bacolod and regularly conducts wine classes at Asian Culinary Institute for her friend Chef Gene Gonzales). I’m glad that she’s already made a difference in rebuilding our wine inventory and in refocusing our operational efforts.
Together with my sister and me, we’re the re-booted Cyrano team. And we’re pretty excited about our wine shop’s future (to give you a sneak preview, expect to find more than one Cyrano Wine Shop by next year).
All together now (chorus): “Don’t stop believin’…”
The Teutonic Way October 5, 2009
Posted by Alexander Sawit in Stuff in General.add a comment
By Alex Sawit
05 October 2009
Here’s a gag that the Brits tell from the Second World War. On a desert battlefield in North Africa, a duel ensues between a German soldier and a British Army Gurkha. The tall German is brandishing a rifle with fixed bayonet while the diminutive Nepalese mercenary is wielding a large boomerang-shaped knife. Confident of his superiority, the German lunges first, charging headstrong and grazing the Gurkha’s collar with a bayonet stab. The Gurkha sidesteps and counters with a swing of his blade.
“Hah! You missed!” the German soldier yells smugly.
“You shake your head,” replies the Gurkha.
Puzzled, the German gives it a shake and his severed head promptly falls to the ground.
It’s a grim joke but it makes a point. They’re tough fighters those Gurkhas, which is why they’ve been prized recruits of the British Army since the 19th century and have been exalted by generations of British officers as “the best soldiers in the world.”
But that’s not to say the Germans don’t make for good soldiers. It’s simply that in most of the Allied war stories I’ve read, the Germans always seem to get portrayed as bullheaded troopers who insist on doing things the Teutonic way – the “superior” way.
To be honest, that also happens to be how they are portrayed by the global media, with Hollywood being the guiltiest in perpetuating the image of Germans as overbearing, square-minded authoritarians (no disrespect to the Terminator, now also known as the “Governator,” who is actually a creative thinker and is technically Austrian by birth). It is of course an unfortunate generalization considering that I have encountered and befriended more than enough Germans who are nothing like this stereotype.
So I found it amusing, even startlingly refreshing, when the wine shop recently played host to a guest who exhibited basically all the stereotype characteristics described – a tall German with a wide frame, straightforward demeanor and a library of opinions that he was not the least bit shy about insisting upon. Whoa yeah, he was very opinionated.
“Let me tell you,” he said to me with a poker face from across the bar. “Don’t be angry but the way your place looks is DUMB.”
Yup, he said that. And he was just warming up.
“Don’t be angry but who designed your place? Your sister designed it? Is she a licensed interior designer?”
“Don’t be angry but your place feels like a house, not a store.”
“Don’t be angry but I wouldn’t pay good money to build my counter behind the bar like that.”
“Don’t be angry but your location is not good.”
For someone who didn’t want me to get angry he sure was laying it thick. And I actually wasn’t angry. The fellow is a really friendly and decent gentleman who has been living in the Philippines with his wife for the last two decades. Together they make arguably the best charcuterie products in the country, which was the reason I had asked them to meet me at Cyrano in the first place. But the gentleman seemed determined to discourage me from using him as a supplier.
“Let me get this right,” I asked. “Are you telling me that you don’t want me to buy your products?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but you won’t make money selling my products here. I’m sorry.”
“My friend,” I said, exasperated by the complications of what was supposed to be a simple request for supplies. “I’m NOT turning my place into a deli. This is a wine shop. My core business is wine, not deli products. What I’m trying to do is carry a few of your items so that customers who order them will also be encouraged to buy more wine.”
“Well, I will supply you if you really want but I tell you, you won’t make money. People won’t like your location. Don’t be angry but you asked me my opinion.”
“Actually, you volunteered,” I pointed. “I didn’t ask.” Gee, I must have said something right because his wife, who had kept quiet the whole time her hubby was freely dispensing advice, suddenly burst out laughing after my remark.
When our meeting finally ended, I wasn’t surprised that we hadn’t reached any agreement, not even in principle. But I made him a promise that we would talk again.
“I believe in your products,” I said as I escorted him and his wife to the exit. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement that works for both of us.”
Believe me. He’s one of the good guys. His opinions may flatly contradict what Cyrano friends have been telling me for years but I respect what he had to say because his heart is in the right place. He was just trying to look out for Cyrano in his own insistent, Teutonic way.
But I needed a drink right after that meeting.
