Everyone loves a great deal. Some people are hard-wired to seek those deals automatically and without fail each time he makes a purchase.  In the restaurant and retail business, “couponers” are the people we speak of.  And let me say this: we love their loyalty and business just as much as the next customer’s.

This post is not about couponers.  It’s more about the greater coupon culture.  The dependence on the deal.  And the subsequent pegging of one’s brand.  If a restaurant’s coupons are so ubiquitous they pop in view like pennies on the pavement — what does that say about the establishment’s brand?

I started thinking about this after reading a restaurant blog about new restaurant startups I follow and an article about weaning customers off the deep discounts in the Nation’s Restaurant News.

Recently, we've even started offering more lucrative discounts to our most loyal fans via email. The jury is still out on the effectiveness of these deals.

I sometimes fear R.M.C.C. has a coupon-dolling dependency.  And I’d hate for us to have a reputation as a discount dining option — or just plain cheap.  For years, we issued 15% coupons to everyone who ordered takeout, rewarding them for some return business.  A majority of regular customers has become so used to the perk, a few of them get miffed if their coupon isn’t in the bag.  At times more disconcerting, some expect a flat 15% off each time they visit — coupon in hand or not.

Feelings on this phenomena are truly mixed.  By one account, we’ve scored a major win: each of those customers is not only a loyal follower of Red Moon, but also a frequent visitor.  Our doors are still open because of their collective impact on our cash flow.  That’s not lost on us.

Conversely, so many customers are in this pool of discount-only buyers that their effect on our bottom-line is surely not negligible.  Let’s come to Jesus for a second: anyone who didn’t know this already, let me break the news — restaurant profit margins are either absent entirely or quite slim, certainly less than 10 percent and many closer to the three to five percent range.  Need proof?  Just check out this roster of publicly traded big boys — if they can’t muster much more than that, how is this little guy doing much better?

Without much more than a gut-feeling and a little rudimentary number-crunching, I have decided to re-think how we approach coupons.

If anyone has any ideas of what works for them or better — as a consumer what you plainly feel about coupons and what that means to your loyalty for certain establishments, I’d love to know.

I hope to follow-up with a meatier blog about what our strategy going forward will be — how we will keep building on our tremendous group of loyal customers, luring in new customers and providing value on top of high quality, sought-after delicious food.

I haven’t been writing lately because I didn’t quite know how much to divulge about what was going on behind the scenes.  And quite frankly, that’s all well and good.  After all, this blog is meant to illuminate, not stew, fester or track the divergent inner-workings of a lone mind.

That said, I do have some bullet points to share about things that have happened in the last few months.

In short, I veered from the law school path and took a good faith interest in pursuing restaurant-related business opportunities with my dad.  I took great pleasure in the idea of creating new things, building upon decades of his hard work and, in a sense, coming full circle with something that’s been a part of me for all of my life.  There were great ideas tempered by realistic financial limitations but fueled by optimism and passion nonetheless.  We crafted business plans and weathered a torrent of naysayers but found solace and greater hope from longtime supporters.  We got knee deep in it all.

Loved ones backed us up in selfless ways.

Then the whole thing fell apart.  And like any disorienting jolt — I found myself numb and motionless with nothing to do but plunge into deep thought.

I emerged with clarity and quite frankly — relief.  Becoming a restaurateur wasn’t the right thing to do.

Thankfully, I found myself living just a few blocks from the University of St. Thomas School of Law, an institution with a rising star here in the Twin Cities.  I applied and just accepted a tremendous offer to attend.  In the meantime, a fantastic mentor appeared to me and helped me sort out some of the reservations I had about a legal education.  Call it more due diligence.  I am eager to begin this path.  I will write more about my excitement about law school in another post!

Now, some of the random bullets from this experience and hopefully many new posts will follow.  Because now, there is nothing to hide.

• The Credit Crisis is [Still] Real: Banks are really hard to deal with.  If you lack deep pockets and a sterling record TODAY, there’s little hope in getting financial institutions to take a moderate risk on you, Mr. Small Bussinessperson.  We know.  We approached about seven.
• Due Diligence is King: You know that cliche about skeletons in one’s closet?  Whether it’s purchasing a piece of commercial real estate or musings about changing course in life: emotion, passion and desire should never occupy the top-wrung on a decision-making ladder.  NOTHING beats exhaustive, objective fact-finding.  You might just find that someone is about to saddle you with a couple hundred thousand dollars in judgments and liens!
• 

  Never ignore a stop sign. In my case, the figurative kind. No one was hurt, thankfully... and for the record, I was not at fault in this accident that totaled the vehicle you see here.

  Belief in Signs is Okay: If, on the way to a business meeting to discuss a new project, a red Mini Cooper with white accents (making it resemble a stop sign) pulls in front of you causing you to T-bone said little car at no fault of your own — it is okay to conclude that some greater power is trying to tell you “STOP!”

• Faith Yields Sanity: Amid the tumult, having faith in a higher power that good will come from a course you don’t seem to have much control in shaping is about all you can do to feel good.  And as things calm, that faith is typically rewarded.
• If It’s Pie you Desire, Get a Piece of This: The credit card processing fee business is the biggest racket I have ever seen in person.  Talk about getting something for nothing.  Every time you use a credit card at a small, family-owned business, just know that mom or pop behind the sales counter is crying a little inside with each swipe of a magnetic strip.  Once the vultures caught wind of a possible new business, the calls came pouring in.  Stop calling now.
• Community Stakeholders Rock: Despite the economy, some communities still have amazing cheerleaders working damn hard to lure new business and prop up the existing ones.  These people do thankless work.  If you think you’ve benefited from someone like this, I urge you to seek out that person and give her some thanks.  Though we won’t be part of one community, we felt welcome the first instance we showed interest.
• Nickels and Dimes Add Up: Soon I will be a lawyer-in-training.  But that won’t stop me from saying this: good grief, my heavens!  I have no problem paying for good judgment.  I’m just glad I now know personally what it costs to engage a judicious mind on the phone for  a matter of seconds.  I’ll be more judicious in making those calls in the future.

We’re experimenting with some new dishes (as in china) and new dishes (the Chinese-ish kind).

Today I went to Ikea near the Mall of America to hunt down some dishes that didn’t look like the standard things you find in typical mom and pop Chinese joints like ours: white, oval, and bordered with some boring Asian pattern.

Bringing a few of them into the restaurant really got my dad and I thinking about what we could make that might be different.

He has been a big fan of the very mild and easily-adapatble sole fish lately.  Last night he prepped some coconut and panko bread crumb filets.  I immediately thought of the chicken and coconut curry I enjoy making when I’m on my own.

So we grabbed a sole filet and fried it (I know, I’m sure there’s another way we could prepare it, but it’s damn good), I took out a can of coconut milk and we picked out a few veggies (peapods, broccoli, peppers, a few carrots and onions), minced some ginger and garlic and threw it all together.

Panko and Coconut-Crusted Sole atop Coconut-Curried Veggies

It’s funny, my dad cooked everything in a different order than I would have.  But I told him how much ginger, coconut milk, curry and sugar to put in the dish.  It’s maybe only the second time we’ve ever truly collaborated on a dish.

The result is pictured — Panko and Coconut-Crusted Sole atop Coconut-Curried Veggies.  We gave the dish to our good friend Andrea Blum who reports that it was excellent.  I only got a quick taste of the sauce to make sure it was good.  Interestingly, I think rather highly of my coconut curry.  But once again, my father proved to me that his innate cooking ability really is all about his “special touch,” as he calls it.  The stuff tasted about 5-times better than anything I’ve ever made.

What a fun night at Red Moon!  You should have seen how excited we were to play around with some food!

I have no way to know whether my blog posting on Yelp.com’s overly sensitive review-policing metrics had anything to do with this… but one of the previously-deleted Red Moon reviews has been restored.  I discovered this tonight after being notified that we’d gotten a new comment (another 5-star, glowing review by the way).

Not only was a previously-deleted review restored, but we've got another glowing review!

In any case, I’m very pleased that at least one of the comments has been restored.  It’s a legitimate review so there’s no doubt in my mind it should be there.

Maybe it was all a hiccup in Yelp’s system.  But I still feel the company has some things to resolve when it comes to how reviews get pulled.

I’m getting really frustrated with Yelp.com.  For the third time in a year — its internal policing system (whether automated or human-directed) has removed three reviews of Red Moon from the restaurant’s Yelp business page.

Star-rating? Gone. Two reviews? Gone. Why are Yelp.com's legit-police all over Red Moon? It's unfair and uncalled for!

All three happened to be positive reviews.  Two were posted by acquaintances of Red Moon but neither was done because we asked anyone to.  In fact, I didn’t know about the reviews until a new customer traveling in the Twin Cities from Chicago told me she loved our food and was so glad she discovered the reviews written on Yelp.com.

Now those reviews are gone.  And a genuine and involved “Yelper” like that gal from Chicago cannot benefit from the thoughts those writers had about Red Moon.

Recently, I put up a framed placard at our front counter asking Red Moon fans to share their love of our food online… the display includes logos for four Yelp-like sites including Yelp, Citysearch, Metromix and Trip Advisor.  I was told this was not an ethical violation (in a Web 2.0 sense).

This fall, a sales person from Yelp tried to get us to purchase an advertising package that would get us prime page ranks and sponsored links on Yelp.  I was very interested because I’m very interested in Yelp.  What could be greater for a small business owner than a social media site whose sole purpose is to promote organic buzz (both good and bad) about businesses among the very consumers who frequent them?

Ultimately, we declined to purchase advertising because Yelp’s organic participation is clearly what makes it great.  We did not see that level of participation out in the suburban Twin Cities… so I couldn’t justify the cost of advertising with Yelp… yet.

I learned from the sales rep that Yelp’s self-policing metric is complicated — and allegedly a very separate entity from the sales team, which I appreciate.  But apparently the system looks for criteria including whether reviews are posted by people who are either frequent contributors or return-visitors to the site.  If not, like perhaps our reviews, the posts get flagged as suspect.  I can see how this contributes to the Yelp-for-Yelpers purity of the “community.”  But I wholeheartedly think that it goes way too far in penalizing business owners and operators who are working their asses off to build and maintain a transparent and fair Web presence for themselves.  When will Yelp cut us a break?

I ask that anyone from Yelp with veto power restore the reviews to our site’s page — because they were organic, honest and real.  It’s the least you could do in maintaining Yelp as the site I hope it was meant to be!

A visitor arrived in Minnesota for the New Year holiday last week and it is only fitting that his first meal at Red Moon included direct eye-contact with one of the dishes.

Fish that put up a fight on the table, too -- these bony crappies require lots of skill.

Check out the steamed crappies — eyeballs and all.  My dad is always happy to have someone come in through the back of Red Moon with a bucket of something special.  These came from one of my brother’s childhood friends that afternoon — fresh out of Prior Lake.  And just so you anglers are aware — bring fresh fish to Red Moon and my dad will trade for a bag of takeout.  It’s a pretty good deal.

FILE PHOTO: August 2007 - Zhuhai, China

Anyhow… Luckily (for both Ted and me, quite frankly) my dad also prepared a wonderful plate of Mongolian Beef.  I just thought it was funny because the last time Ted got a meal that included traditional Chinese fare, at least three dishes arrived at the table with the animal’s head still on.  That was back in Zhuhai, China in August of 2007.

Happy New Year to all of my “The Sweet, The Sour” readers out there.  I’m now officially off of my holiday hiatus and back to blogging.  Here’s to a happy and healthy 2010!

Oh, it was embarrassing.  Standing at the third floor of a typical suburban apartment complex, I phoned the Eden Prairie Police Department’s non-emergency dispatch line.  I called to see if I had recourse over a pretty crappy situation.  It was just after 8 p.m. and I’d managed to sweet talk an old lady into letting me past the apartment lobby.  I had to get to the third floor to see why the people who ordered $110 in party platters were not answering their phones or coming to pick up their food downstairs.

They weren’t responding because they did not order the food — allegedly.

At some point between 5 p.m. and 6 p.m. Thursday, a teenager called Red Moon for a large delivery order.  I told him we did not deliver, but said we could tonight, especially since it was a larger order.  He sounded a bit frenetic but had his story together.  He needed food for about 13-15 people for a surprise party.  He gave me a name, phone number, address, apartment number.  But somehow I felt funny about it.  So being the reporter that I still like to think I am — I pressed him with all kinds of questions to see if I could poke holes in the story.  I asked for a credit card but he said he only had cash.  In the end of the phone conversation, I still felt uneasy but concluded that the kid was just getting stereotyped by me as some fool up to no good.  I was determined to believe there really was a party going on and they needed our food.

Red Moon's Holiday Feast -- this is the amount of food that went uneaten because I fell for a prank caller.

We went ahead with the order: A pan of General Tso’s Chicken, a pan of Beef and Broccoli, fried rice, white rice, egg rolls and cream cheese wontons.  It was a heck of a lot of food.

Fool me once… how does the saying go?

I’m very familiar with working with police so it was actually kind of interesting to see what the dispatched officer was going to do when he arrived.  We went upstairs — where earlier I’d pounded on the apartment door to no answer (a TV blaring Slavic chatter was all I heard) — and the mother of the teen who allegedly ordered the food was standing in the hallway this time.  She asked if I’d been the one banging on her door.  Yes, that was me.  No, she did not order $110 in food!

It’s peculiar.  This mysterious prank caller had this woman’s son’s information down pat: address, first and last name, apartment number, directions to his home.  And I’ll go out on a limb and say this: his voice and speaking style sounded pretty damn close to what I recalled from the phone.  But a lot of awkward teens sound that way  But he denied ordering the food and was clueless as to who may have been f*****g with him.  He showed us his cell phone log on his BlackBerry.  No outgoing calls to Red Moon (can’t they be deleted??) and only three calls throughout the night from me that went unanswered.  (I felt funny enough about the situation to try calling to see if they needed plates and forks at about 7:30 p.m.)

I don’t know what to say.  The reporter in me wants to pass on passing judgment on the record here.  The reporter in me has something else to say off the record.

A police report will be filed.  I hope to buy badge number 106 dinner for his time and patience.  And whoever did this — you are an asshole.  And I hope you get help.  Serious help.

I set off on this writing journey with some loose guidelines.  One of my self-imposed rules: don’t dog on the customers lest they be able to identify themselves and create real havoc for us.  But I need to unleash a few gripes before I burst.

Red Moon's lunch buffet -- amazing food, even better value (perhaps too valuable, as you'll see...)

For as long as I can remember we have offered our lunch buffet to-go.  You pay the same price as a sit-down diner ($7.50 including tax right now), we hand you a three-section styrofoam container to fill on your own to your heart’s content (see the problem coming?).  Easy lunch.  Great deal.

I’ll preface my gripe by saying my complaints stem from our own failings.  We don’t have a list of rules about how much food a person can really take.  It’s implied.  Fill your container, *close it* and be on your merry way.  I hate rules — they bog down the flow of life and they could potentially make us look like small-picture, micromanaging, nickel-and-dimers.  All things I hate about doing business.  It feels nit-picky and greedy.

I see our lack of implicit regulation of the to-go buffet process as a nod to the customers’ own ability to traverse the two-way street of human dignity.  In other words, I’m expecting them to be reasonable.  After all, it’s utterly surprising how much food fits in those things — it’s potentially way more than even the most spirited eaters can consume in a single dine-in buffet sitting.

Instead, I see people doing the most greedy things.  Yes, times are tough — but stuffing food into the container, mashing it down and compacting enough food for a family of four atop what’s already jammed inside is not okay, lady.  I’d had enough that day: “if that thing doesn’t close as it’s designed to, you will pay double,” I blurted during a complete absence of patience.

I am now forced to withhold the plastic shopping bag from customers until they are making their way out the door because of the lady who insisted on tossing more than a half dozen appetizers into her plastic bag rather than her to-go buffet container.  You are ruthless — but not as ruthless as the woman who used both sides of the container to take fried chicken wings that would have otherwise retailed at $20.  So much for my made-up “closing the container” rule that day!

To the guy who hovered at the steam table waiting for more of a chicken dish: You’re welcome to spoon some of the veggies into your container, too.  Never mind the fact you just discriminately scooped a good $8 or so in chicken breast into your container, bypassing anything green… what about your health?

Today, another instance of greed.  My dad gets really angry at this type of thing.  Today he said, “My blood got boiled. I only know how to [sic] them off.”

See, he did.  He asked an offender if s/he  had taken enough and asked the person to consider his/her health.  See, that’s some bold stuff right there!  But somehow my dad gets away with it.  Or perhaps the customers write it off as some sort of Chinaman babble to which they needn’t pay attention.

This, however, is clear: people make rules for a reason.  And I’m beginning to think a better policy for us that won’t seem too verbose and regulatory is the charge-by-the-pound method of to-go buffet pricing.  People pay for what they take.  We may lose a few customers, but as dad said today, we’re free to “[sic] them off” since we’re losing money on them anyway.

Business is business and we have costs to meet.  But I want to remain flexible and hospitable and welcoming to any and all who wish to come *fairly* enjoy our buffet in the manner he or she sees fit.  We will find a way.

UPDATE 12/11/09: For all the angst some of these people cause, it’s worthwhile to also note the potential they have as word-of-mouth advertisers.  Perhaps we lose money each time they come and take so much food.  But it’s also true they may be huge fans who are always encouraging others to come by.  So not only is it not a wash… it’s beneficial for us.  Oh, the nuances of doing business.  In fact, dad probably shouldn’t have opined at the steam table the other day.

Twice in the last two weeks, I set off to distribute catering details and deals the old-fashioned way: going door-to-door.  I’ve only made it to one sliver of the Eden Prairie business sector, which is huge.  I hit the north side of I-494 between Highway 169 and Prairie Center Drive as well as part of the so-called “Golden Triangle.”  (I skipped Winter Park, but perhaps I shouldn’t have, seeing as how we have a lot of Red Moon fans within those walls.)

Let me tell you, it’s harder than it sounds.  I can tell you I’ve been very tempted to recall my ability to mock and lampoon the F.O.B. Chinese crowd so I could feign ignorance on the meaning of “No Solicitors.”  Instead, I’ve just summoned the courage to be bold and ignore the stickers placed pretty prominently on door-after-sterile-looking-business-park-door.  And boy have I paid the price at times.

Two weeks ago, I was kicked out of an office tower, albeit kindly with an offer to place my materials with the next day’s morning papers for four office suites.  An exasperated minion elsewhere was bothered by the need to get up from his cube and greet me at the door.  I could have left my free $10 gift certificate on the reception desk…. to possibly be ignored for days, as it appears the recession has exacted the one face that’s supposed to be friendly and warm from offices X, Y and Z: the receptionist.

Door-to-door tip: Office buildings are "bang for your buck" real estate with the business-to-steps-taken ratio. Just don't get asked to leave. Thankfully, I found all the people inside this one warm and welcoming. Different story down the road.

In the age of online transparency, Twitter and Facebook over-share, and increasing connectedness via digital signals and interfaces — we sure do keep ourselves blocked-off and guarded when it comes right down to it.  It seems a bit narcissistic.  We can broadcast whatever we want — delightfully assuming people out there will care or find it interesting.  But when a real person appears face-to-face, we opt for the opaque.

So why can’t a small business person go door-to-door to meet neighbors and find a more welcoming reception?  Of course I’m trying to sell something, but I’m also trying to get connected, in a sense.  Perhaps I’m being too idealistic.

Thankfully, I’m not feeling too cynical because I did get a great reception from a great many people out there.  In fact, a few new people have come by using the bonus free $5 gift certificates that I left for their own personal use (see, it does pay to be kind).  More than 50% of the places where people have been present at the door have been kind.

It’s also physically difficult to traverse business park after business park.  They’re not exactly places you travel by foot.  You have to park and re-park for each place you want to leave something.

This all brings me closer to another option: direct mail.  Yes, the “junk mail” type.  If I can design the colorful postcard, why not just send the good word that way with a hefty discount or great offer?  Other businesses still do it, so it must work to some degree.  Plus, it guarantees that most everyone gets our message.  And with the reception I’ve been getting at a lot of places, perhaps it’s better use of my time and energy.

Last night at this time I posted a new (read: re-tooled, unexpired) set of coupons on Red Moon’s Web site.  This time I included something new — an experiment, really.  It’s a coupon regular customers can give to Red Moon newbies — a one-up on good old word-of-mouth advertising.

Click the image to download the "Refer a Friend" coupon yourself.

Here’s how it works: the regular writes his or her email address on the coupon.  He or she gives it to a friend who can then use it for a free appetizer on his or her first trip to Red Moon.  With that email address, I contact the referrer to thank the person and tell them I’ve got a free $5 gift certificate for them waiting at our front counter for use anytime he or she wishes.

I figured it was possibly too involved or confusing to work.  But I could be wrong.  Despite the fact that it was posted just late last night — a pair of guys this morning had the coupon.  I contacted their referrers and there are gift certificates waiting for them.   Hopefully the two guys who came in today liked the food enough to want to return — and I also hope I’ve created some warm feelings among the regulars who passed on the good word about Red Moon.

Any thoughts out there on whether this is a good idea?  Generous enough?  Any twists on this I could use in the future when this gets tired and stale?

It’s probably over-zealous to call this an “overnight success” — but in my world, these little triumphs are huge.  Here’s to hoping more friends refer their friends.