Thomas Maier (’08 Ph.D.)

An excerpt from “Hospitality Leadership: Lessons in Fench Gastronomy – The Story of Guy and Franck Savoy”

This leadership tutorial book celebrates the amazing career of Guy Savoy and his ascent onto the global scene as a prominent cuisenaire and accomplished hospitality industry leader. He has done so while simultaneously mentoring his son Franck, who leads Restaurant Guy Savoy in Las Vegas. In this book, Guy Savoy’s multigenerational leadership style is viewed through the lens of contemporary leadership philosophy, organizational development concepts, and the rich tradition of French gastronomy.

This book offers hospitality students, food and wine enthusiasts, aspiring culinarians, and leadership professionals a unique tutorial on leadership in hospitality. The book examines hospitality and multigenerational leadership through the life and times of a global, luxury product food and wine entrepreneur.

An entrepreneur who loves his craft personifies the best of French culture and is remarkably gifted and dedicated to genuine hospitality. Remarkably, he engenders this same leadership passion and genuineness toward serving and welcoming others in hospitality through his son Franck. The hospitality leadership lessons are presented through his gracious sharing of his most precious recipes, his leadership approach, and his remarkable commitment to serving others. Testimonials from his team members offer insight into the depths of his and his son’s leadership suaveness. Notably, Franck Savoy, from the millennial generation, operates Restaurant Guy Savoy as one of multiple food and beverage operations at Caesars Palace Casino and Resort in America. Franck has his unique leadership style, elegance, expertise, and dedication to craftsmanship while carrying the Savoy generational legacy into the future.

Publisher: AuthorHouse

 


 

By Tony Osborne, professor of communications

An excerpt from “Greed is Good and Other Fables: Office Life in Popular Culture”

Hierarchical organizations stifle authentic communication, hardening play-acting into habit. Playing along – often unwittingly – forces a person into a supporting role that imputes self-dignity. This co-optation of the authentic self is particularly insidious because it happens incrementally and imperceptibly. It’s hard to rub off after office hours.  Organizational behavior is an enormous mind game on an invisible board. The wrong moves can shatter serenity and lock a person into a behavioral box. Learning to recognize certain organizational types and their ploys, early in the game, saves psychic wear and tear….

This brings me to my first type, the very busy Ward Boss:

The Ward Boss jockeys for power and material gain. This person is a climber and a conniver. The job he’s paid to do is secondary. He’s always got something going on the outside. His office is a base of operations from which he can sap the company’s resources – phones, supplies, personnel, etc. – for his own ends. The Ward Boss approaches you beaming, quickening his step as though he can’t wait to delight in your company. “How ya’ doin’ buddy,” he exclaims, his head twisting from the force of uncorked joy.  Wired on diet Coke, he gets right in your ear, and in a conspiratorial whisper says: “Look, there’s a really important meeting next week and I really need you to support this thing. Because if you don’t ….”  With the Ward Boss it’s always good vs. evil. He frames everything as “us vs. them” and forces you to take sides.

Saying “no” is no simple matter. The Ward Boss knows how to pummel your self-esteem. He acts out his disappointment. Your refusal pains him because you – whose moral fortitude he had so admired – won’t join the fight to make this company a better place. He must have misjudged your character. Apparently you’re one of them. His disapproval is instant. His body sags. He sighs, mimicking the inflections of a suffering child. The Ward Boss plays the moral crusader because, darn it, he really cares about the company.  In actuality, he “mails-in” his assigned duties and devotes all his energies to recruiting allies to protect or build his fiefdom. The “votes” he wheedles are only those that affect his interests. Genuine company-wide concerns, he curtly disdains by draping a paw across your shoulder and solemnly dispensing his stock retort: “Hey, why should you care? You’re still getting your paycheck aren’t you?”

The Ward Boss operates most effectively by stealth. He cajoles others into articulating his issues in meetings. Why doesn’t he speak for himself, you ask him. The Ward Boss will say that if it appears he’s the only one who cares, the issue will die; a different voice will create the impression that the issue “has legs.” A well-placed secretary in a highly polarized organization, where people went out of their way to draw blood, pointed to a Ward Boss-type and told me: “This stuff started happening only after he got here. He’s the one who really runs the place. He’s gotten two presidents fired.”

Publisher: ABC-CLIO

 


 

Nancy Unger (’78)

An excerpt “Beyond Nature’s Housekeepers: American Women in Environmental History”

Many middle-class women rejected the notion that their identity could be found only within what Betty Friedan called the “comfortable concentration camp” of their suburban homes. They sought empowerment through contact with nature. In the 1980s, travel agencies such as Seattle’s Womantrek and Minneapolis’s Woodswomen encouraged women to challenge themselves physically and nurture themselves emotionally by camping, hiking, and rafting with other women. Yet middle-class women did not have to tramp through the woods to play a role in forging a new environmental consciousness. In 1937 the Conservation Division of the Wisconsin Federation of Women’s Clubs included in its goals for the year the passage of a law making the disposal of Christmas trees less wasteful, lamenting,

A sight that almost makes me weep
Is a Christmas tree on the rubbish heap.

Nearly thirty-five years later, another group of Wisconsin women took up with a vengeance the attack on wasteful practices associated with Christmas. In the autumn of 1971 about a dozen Madison homemakers, including Nan Cheney and Sharon Stein, began a unique effort to remake American culture: Women for a Peaceful Christmas (WPC). Its founders had previously worked in various political campaigns but found that altruistic letter-writing campaigns by women within the domestic sphere who were perceived as “just housewives” produced no results.

During the 1960s and 1970s, women frequently combined a call to save the earth with their demands to stop the war in Vietnam. In 1967 a group of mothers seeking to encourage all women, not just students, to take an active role in eliminating war founded the nonpartisan, nonprofit group Another Mother for Peace. Los Angeles artist Lorraine Schneider designed the group’s logo: a sunflower and the slogan “War is not healthy for children and other living things.” The simple, childlike drawing and words became an iconic image, appearing on bumper stickers, posters, key chains, t-shirts, and medallions and was a fixture in peace demonstrations and marches.

The founders of WPC were inspired by the nationwide Women’s Boycott for Peace held in June 1971, organized by women in Ann Arbor, Mich. Citing Gallup poll figures that 78 percent of American women wanted the United States to withdraw its forces from Vietnam by the end of the year, these women decided to “speak in a language all men can understand: refuse to support a wartime economy.” “Money talks,” noted Judy Olson, one of the WPC founders. “This is our non-violent form of pressure.” Added co-founder Sharon Winderl, “We do not want to support the economy which is killing our sons.”

Members of WPC wanted more than “just” peace. They sought a “re-ordering of national and personal priorities,” beginning with a turning away from waste and conspicuous celebrations. “What we’re really aiming for,” explained Nan Cheney, “is a change in attitudes. We’re trying to raise people’s consciousness about the wartime economy and what they can do to control their own consumption of resources.” According to Cheney, “If our economy is based on dishwashers that must be replaced every five years and automobiles that we can’t find parking places for, then something is seriously the matter with our values.”

WPC lamented the fact that Christmas in particular had become for the middle class “a time of tremendous waste of resources, with mountains of wrapping and packaging materials thrown away and tremendous pressure to buy badly-made toys.” Commercialism had distorted the message of peace, love, and joy, persuading consumers that “peace is the product of exploitation, that love is measured by material possessions, and that joy abounds in compulsive consumption.” Their goal was not a holiday boycott, but rather they offered alternatives designed to make celebrations “more meaningful, less commercial, less wasteful, and more peaceful.” Their suggestions ranged from gift ideas (including handcrafts, environmentally friendly canvas shopping bags, and organic cleaning products) to substitutions for energy-consuming outdoor Christmas lights. “If you don’t want your Christmas celebrations to be controlled by the monoliths that corrupt governments and pollute environments,” WPC urged women, the sex that did the vast bulk of holiday shopping, “take matters into your own hands. Don’t buy the pre-packaged, disposable Christmas! Make your own.”

Under the slogan “No More Shopping Days ‘til Peace,” WPC organized ostensibly powerless homemakers into a quiet revolt against what it called “an economy which thrives on war and the destruction of our earth’s resources.” According to the press, its membership entertained “no illusions of making much of a dent in an economy that encourages over consumption,” and yet in five months’ time, the movement had spread to almost every state, with members ranging in age from teenagers to grandmothers. The Wisconsin chapter was inundated by more than 15,000 queries and requests for its informational “starter” packet, buttons, and bumper stickers. Their message spread rapidly, aided by press coverage ranging from church bulletins to national publications, including Women’s Day, Christian Science Monitor, and Newsday, as well as support from the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). WPC members in Madison held an annual Peace Fair promoting environmentally friendly ideas and gifts and celebrating women’s ability to “however infinitesimally, slow down the breakneck speed of American consumerism” and preserve precious natural resources.

WPC denounced traditionally commercial Christmas celebrations as “wasteful of the earth’s energy and resources, and encourag[ing of] a thing-centered, rather than a people-centered way of life.” When asked during the group’s fourth year of operation if its goal was to undermine the “American Way of Life,” founder Jan Cheney responded, “I hope so. We have to rethink the way we live. I can’t believe we’re so dependent on [frivolous, manufactured] ‘things’ that we can’t learn to make useful things, instead of what Madison Avenue tells us we want.” Simplified, environmentally friendly alternatives allowed individuals “to decide what’s really important in life and what just gets in the way.” One headline summed up the group’s emphasis on the long-term goal of controlling waste: “Christmas Can Be Saved for Future Generations.” As the war in Vietnam came to a close, the focus of Women for a Peaceful Christmas shifted increasingly to environmental issues. Mindful of worldwide food and energy shortages, pollution, and economic uncertainty, its members campaigned especially against waste.

Publisher: Oxford University Press

 


 

Jeff Koehler (’91)

An excerpt “Morocco: A Culinary Journey with Recipes from the Spice-Scented Markets of Marrakech to the Date-Filled Oasis of Zagora”

The food of Morocco is rich, sensual, and colorful, sophisticated and artfully presented. From the vast array of small plates offering fresh and cooked “salads” that begin or accompany meals to the delicate sweetmeats (and, inevitably, mint tea), this North African kitchen not only delights but surprises.

It begins with the blending of flavors. The sweetness of chilled cooked carrots countered with earthy cumin, fresh parsley, and intense, unfiltered olive oil. Grated raw carrots soaked in freshly squeezed orange juice with a touch of sugar and a few drops of aromatic orange flower water, served equally as a salad or as a dessert. A purée of cucumbers with orange juice, sweetened slightly with sugar but also a generous pinch of a dried wild oregano called zaâtar intimating the arid countryside—is a delightfully refreshing drink or dessert on warm afternoons. In winter, glasses of mint tea laced with fresh, silvery absinthe leaves, marjoram, or lemon verbena, even saffron threads. And the main dishes! Braised lamb topped with orange segments soaked in aromatic syrup and with thin, candied strips of peel; kid goat with dried figs and thyme; veal with caramelized apricots and jewel-like prunes. These are inspired, delectable combinations.

One of the country’s most important— and original—cooking methods is the tagine, a stew or ragout slow-cooked in an eponymous earthenware casserole with a conical lid.

The key is the lid, which captures the moisture rising from the cooking meat, poultry, or fish, and enables it to condense on the lid’s walls, so that it can fall back onto the stew, keeping the dish moist while retaining its flavors.

Tagines frequently exhibit Moroccan cuisine’s fondness for combining textures and marrying bold flavors, and showcase one of its distinguishing traits—the harmonious blending of sweet and savory. Take just two of countless examples: chicken topped with caramelized tomato compote and toasted almonds and veal shanks with stewed pears that carry a sweet freshness hinting of cloves, ginger, and cinnamon.

Knives are not found on Moroccan tables— tradition, sure, but also because they’re not needed when meat cooks to the falling-off-the-bone tenderness of a typical tagine. Yet as succulent as that lamb or beef or chicken might be, it sometimes seems that the sole purpose of a tagine is the final sauce, the rich melody of concentrated flavors mopped up with hunks of bread.

Couscous is another dish synonymous with Morocco and, like the tagine, is an ancient creation of the indigenous Berbers. The name refers to the dish as well as to the tiny “grains” made from hard durum wheat (or barley or even ground corn) that are double- or triple-steamed in a basket over simmering, flavorful broth. This simple staple is turned into a traditional, celebrated centerpiece every Friday, when extended families gather around a shared platter of couscous for the week’s most important meal. Topping the mound of tender couscous might be chicken and caramelized onions and raisins along with a scattering of crunchy almonds, seven different vegetables, or large pieces of pumpkin flavored with lamb. Typically served alongside are glasses of rich, slightly acidic buttermilk called lben.

Moroccan cuisine remains centered around such family meals. In a small village in the Ourika Valley, on the western slopes of the High Atlas, a young Berber woman explained to me how her family eats a tagine nearly every day, “It is placed in the center of the table for the whole family. One table, one dish. It is unacceptable to eat apart.”

“Eating is not an individual experience,” echoed a friend from the agricultural heartland between Fès and Marrakech. “Everyone is equal when eating. It’s about sharing.”

In kitchens across the country, I delighted in learning to make such sophisticated dishes as lamb tagine with oranges and saffron threads in Marrakech or, in Ouarzazate, poussin stuffed with almond and date paste, an exquisite pièce de résistance prepared for special celebrations. I took just as much pleasure in stuffing High Atlas Berber flatbread with freshly pulled shallots and pieces of the hard white fat that surrounds a lamb’s kidney, a midmorning snack that kids typically carry warm to field workers to eat with glasses of sweet mint tea. Or—in Safi and El Jadida, and again in Essaouira—rolling hundreds of sardine balls that stewed in a pot of tomato sauce, an extremely popular dish that Moroccan families take along when they flock to the beach in summer. Each of these dishes is equally interesting—and representative.

“Food is the first stage in understanding [this place], the easiest way to get into it,” a Berber woman from Ourika succinctly told me, “because it is so key to our culture.” The goal of this book is to offer an appreciation of Moroccan cuisine—or, rather, cuisines—and a tasty way into a complex and fascinating culture.

Publisher: Chronicle Books

 


 

Charles B. McGough (’55)

An excerpt “I’ve Got this Great Idea! Now What? Ten Easy-to-Follow Steps to Evaluate, Patent, Trademark, and License Your Exciting New Invention”

This book was written to help you creative but inexperienced independent inventors who have ideas for many new products for consumers and industry. Your products may include, for examples, ideas for new and better tools, manufacturing fixtures, toys, board games, garden items, athletic equipment, environmental products, hobby aids, apparel, household items, cookware, automobile accessories, holiday decorations, medical devices, electronic items, agriculture products, and dozens of similar new inventions designed for work, play, and everyday living.

Although your new product ideas will differ greatly, as one cn see from the above short list, the fundamental steps necessary to evaluate, prtect, and market them are similar. Details wll vary in the application of these steps, depending on the idea. The sequesnce and actions, however, will remain basically the same for all.

We believe that readers of this book will want to pursue their new idea while minimizing money spent on patent attorneys. This is understandable, since patent attorneys typically charge $200-$200 per hour, and the cost of having them fully prepare and obtain your patent would probably be $5,000 or more.

Publisher: Outskirts Press
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