The Website...

Our Website...

We love the website for The Black Birch... there are things we want to tweak. Mostly how quickly we popup in search engines, but largely this will be remedied with time and traffic and links, and metatags or somesuch, not to mention seo and slimy words and things my brain doesn't retain. I think our friends, Cleo and Troy, who coded and now maintain the site feel the same way about the website. Our designer, on the other hand... well we love her too. Probably more than the website.Part of loving her is knowing that she is never really satisfied with her work. A tweak may become an overhaul in the matter of a conversation. And that overhaul may call for a meeting.

When I was dreaming about a business of my own, I loved meetings. There were a few types; some enjoyable, some enjoyable because of how foreign and unenjoyable they were supposed to be. The later were mostly with officials and the sort of low level bureaucrat that you never hoped you would have to speak with. They were licensing and inspection issue meetings. They were lawyers and finance people that occur in offices that try to feel comfortable but never lose their catalog sterility.
The first type of meetings, the ones that were the most enjoyable mostly, for the past few years, Gavin and I took meetings in restaurants, coffeeshops and bars. We took meetings seriously for the first few pints. And, I am fortunate to say-- we took them often. I can't say that they were always efficient, or that they ever seemed productive. But they were all exceptional.

Lately, the meetings we set have little of the jovial bustle of a coffeeshop, the swagger of a barroom or the endless options of toppings at the Bratskellar. The meetings feel a bit more sterile and there is less pizza. Well, at least they had. And then I got an email from Liz... it was addressed to myself, Gavin, Cleo and Troy. It proposed a meeting to discuss the direction and potential redrafting of the website. But it proposed the meeting to be held at Cleo and Troy's farm over dinner. I have had the good fortune of having had dinner at the farm several times over the past few years. Well, we haven't cemented a date for the meeting, but the prospect of dinner, conversation and too many bottles of wine is just the medicine I need for a snowy afternoon. Regardless of the outcome, I guarantee it well be one of my favorite I've attended in quite some time.

Cheers,
Ben

An emotional pizza

 A lot of you may not know Al Mead. In the time we have been working on The Black Birch, Al has proven himself time and again. Sure, it looks like he just woke up and rolled out of bed, if you know him well you know it isn't just a look-- he did just roll out of bed. Al is always a quiet, poignant voice at the end of a tumultuous evening. He is also the piercing scream that announces

Al Mead, NYE 2011

During the construction phase, Gavin and I would frequently miss meals. And I get cranky when I am hungry. And construction is a frustrating exercise for me. Anyway, you can see where I am headed. It was probably on one of those sorts of afternoons that Al introduced me to the emotional pizza.

Simply put, in Al's own terms, everybody feels better with a pizza in the room. I think he is right, I know I experience a sense of satisfaction, near bliss, upon the arrival of a pepperoni pie. Regardless, of my mood or my hunger level-- just knowing there is a pizza at arm's length has a calming effect.

To this day, we routinely reach out to Kittery Town Pizza (207) 439-1265  to ensure that there is an emotional pizza on hand in event of a crisis. To date, we've had no crisis, but at least 9 pies. Thanks Al.

I advise that you try an emotional pizza. Keep one at arm's reach in the office, the shop, or at home. Everything will be just a little bit better.

Ben



PS, there is a very real possibility that I have mis-attributed the emotional pizza. If I have, I apologize to anyone who feels the emotional pizza is their intellectual property. (There is also the distinct possibility that the emotional pizza was courtesy Jeremy LeClair)

Has it been 2 mos.?

Two months and counting... It is safe to say that we are just starting to acclimate to the pace. The menu has been well received-- the venue and the drinks... And we are having fun. In hindsight, it was a lot of planning, a lot of hard work, and a lot of luck that brought the whole package together. It feels like a lot of luck. A lot of support from friends, family, and neighbors. That is what most of the experience really has boiled down to-- a sense of place, of community. The Kittery Foreside and the Seacoast as a whole delivered that community feel, even before we were able to open our doors. Now that the doors are open, and the first immense wave of guests is starting to ebb-- we still see that community every day. Our neighbors, stopping in for a glass of wine and a beer, sharing a snack with a co-worker or an old friend. Local artists, carpenters, and plumbers dropping by with a new taphandle.

Jake, Gavin, and I are settling into more familiar territory. Having a great time, and really doing what we had set out to do-- helping to provide an outlet for our community, our home. Thank you.

Headway

We are winding down a fairly productive opening week. We have started to dial in all of the tiny pieces that need fine tuning (not to mention the bits that need a complete overhaul). There is pressure, rigorous demands, and a timetable that seems relentless.

(As a note, I wrote the post Oct. 6, 2011. At the time, we were heading into inspections, a mad dash to try to get ready and licensed... there were setbacks that felt crushing. We were a long way from being where we wanted-- back in the dining rooms, bars, and kitchens that are familiar territory. I have a lot of unfinished snippets-- threads of thoughts that may finally start to see publication, just to help complete the sense of process that we went through.)