-12 O'Clock Coffee

Tierra, only three weeks old when we visit, is built inside a historic Colonial restaurant. All is wood and metal, natural surfaces without a trace
of plastic. The lights are halogen lamps, the old fireplaces (flues sealed) in every room have the look of stony sculpture. The walls are ochre or
umber, whatever that elegant dirt color is currently that says, "Here is money, well spent."

"This is a deep market," says Ron.

You mean big money, I say.

"Sure. And more than that," Ron says seriously-he's always serious about money. "A deep market means you can do anything. People dine out often. Price isn't a consideration. They can eat here, they can eat pizza. A complex market. Conservative, because this is Philadelphia. But
sophisticated. These people eat in good restaurants around the world. You have to make them want you."

Tierra slowly fills up with tall gray-haired comfortable men and women in splendid casual clothes.

"Life as seating time," says Gorodesky, serious about little except money. It's always the same. Six o'clock you get the folds with walkers. Nine
o'clock - they're 40 years younger, skipping the bar because they're high on something else. Think of it-a mock sigh-we all start out with reservations at 9, and slowly work our way backwards...to the grave."

Gorodesky had to call several days ahead for reservations. The crowd here is carefully controlled. "There's more than 100 a night, going nice and slow," he says. "They have family money, they can afford to succeed. Restaurants don't make money the first few months. The staff has to get used to working together; more important, the staff has to stabilize. The average restaurant turns its staff over by 150 percent in the first six months. You have problems enough without money problems. But most new restaurants go over start-up budget - as much as 50 percent over. Opening day, they're not thinking about systems, they're not thinking about staff. They can't afford to worry. They need ... CASH FLOW! They pack in customers, that means they have problems, that means they have more problems with cash flow. And remember, most restaurants have no idea how much money they're making or losing for a whole year. A whole year! So, eight, nine months later, they find out they're bankrupt. One more American unsuccess story. And they had a talented chef, a good location. What went wrong? Everything. From the start, they didn't say, To succeed we need to make money."

Alan Segel spent three years working as an apprentice chef in restaurants throughout France. His wife, Nicol, born in Spain, has worked in, and run, three-star European hotels. She will run the front of the house. Alan is the executive chef. His father is Franklin Mint and QVC founder Joe Segel, but Alan is not a rich man's son dabbling in business. Nobody goes through three years in French kitchens for fun.

"Ron's our tether," says Alan. "Nicol and I knew what we didn't know. The business side of the business. I approach food as...passion and myth. Ron's job is dispelling myths. We'd say to him, Here's the budget, can we do this? He's say, You can do that if you want-but..."

"...You're never going to make money," Ron and Alan say in unison.

"And then," says Alan, "we'd come back to earth. Sometimes ... we had disagreements. Philadelphia is used to a more conservative menu than I'd like. There are certain things we can't do. But-there are certain things we won't do. We get customers who want mint jelly with their lamb. "We do not," he says definitively, "serve mint jelly at Tierra."

Eating dinner with Ron is like eating with a restaurant critic-inside out. He notices everything, for what seem at first to be entirely different
reasons.

We have tuna carpaccio; a gazpacho of gritty vegetable bits topped with a dollop of celery sorbet; sea bass with a mussel and tomato concasse; a gateau designed to leak liquid chocolate all over the plate when you cut into it. A meal that seems not only excellent but adventurous to me.

"Sure," says Gorodesky. "That's what Alan wants. Our job is to let him be adventurous enough to have fun, and still make money. Then our job is to ... work ourselves out of a job. Or at least reduce our role to periodic tuneups. Like a shrink. We're only successful when you learn to do without us. Because, first of all, like a shrink, we're expensive. I want my restaurants to make money. That's how I get new business. I'm always looking for the next Alan Segel, the next problem. I don't want to get bored, I don't want my staff to get bored. The great thing about my life is-look over there at that table with the party of eight. The best table in the room. Five weeks ago I was sitting with Alan and Nicol in that very spot. Only our table was a piece of plywood on sawhorses, our seats were crates. Those people are having a wonderful time. I feel like... like an obstetrician must feel, when he walks down the street and says, 'I delivered that baby. And that one, and that.' I get all the fun of a start-up and the fun of the first crazy months when everything goes wrong, and none of the night-after-night work of running the place. Here's what to remember, if you want to be lucky enough to have a good life: If it's not fun, don't do it. I..."

Ron stops and stares at the coffee cup put carefully in front of him by a young and slightly nervous server. Ron is so quiet so long I start to ask
a new question.

"Don't you notice anything?" he says.

I don't notice anything.

"The coffee cup. The handle of the coffee cup is supposed to point to 4 o'clock. So the customer doesn't have to reach around for it. This handle is at-midnight!" Ron says it more in sorrow than anger. "I hate to see something like this. This is a reflection on me. It has to be corrected. It will be."

I ask weeks later if the coffee cup problem is corrected.

"Of course something like that ..." A head shake. "You do whatever's ecessary to ensure it won't ever happen again."

-Selling Cancer

More driving! I ask questions and write answers. Nobody else knows this stuff.

Will the Convention Center help Philly restaurants?

"It'll help chain restaurants. Morton's, Ruth's Chris, the Palm are already here. Places like the Capital Grille, Hard Rock Cafe and California
Pizza Kitchen are looking. Conventioneers like to see a familiar logo. Most local restaurants won't see much new business."

How important is food quality?

"There are places that have dog food and are successful. Because it's priced like dog food. Look at smorgasbords. A smorgasbord isn't a restaurant, it's a trough. All deep-fried junk. and full of senior citizens-the kind who probably have to eat 9 Lives tuna at home. They make money."