The Acquire WHY
I have a confession: it’s never really been about the wine or the food. They are the tools. It’s the people, the moments that have left me speechless, the moments of true humanity found in the mundane. THAT is what we are aiming for with every engagement we host: to bring the human element to the obligatory, to make our clients feel the generous gift of hospitality. People need to connect deeply with others. Acquire was built to fill that need.
I often preach about the necessity of ‘authentic connection.’ Below is a brief anecdote from a longer piece I have been writing about what brought me here. I have spent my life being in service to others. I lead with, how can I help, rather than how can you help me? As I’ve turned this mindset into a business, I’ve learned that when you make people feel something, you build deep relationships, and when you build deep relationships, you gain loyal and valuable customers.
Wine & Food as Connection
My mom is from rural Louisiana, just outside of New Orleans. Her side of the family wholeheartedly exudes hospitality. Food is their way of showing love. Our annual visits always consisted of ‘visitin’ which is a verb for stopping by people’s houses unannounced and catching up. At each stop, there was food: Gumbo, Red Beans, Rice, Jambalaya, King Cake...countless southern women tried, unsuccessfully, to put ‘meat on my bones.’ There was a way that I felt in the South that was different from California. The passing of time didn’t matter, I was loved and nourished and cared for and food was the conduit. This is what propelled me into a career in restaurants, through a cast of characters that embodied the essence of hospitality. Each of them made me feel like those old southern women of my past. Each of them made me feel as if I had gained access to some elite club. Each of them made me feel loved.
There is a place that made me feel this way too. This place, and the person running it, had the largest impact on the trajectory of my life, hands down. À Côté sits on the border of Oakland and Berkeley. In 2005, it was a little Bohemian enclave. Jeff Berlin, my friend, was at the helm. He is larger than life. He came down for my interview in a Grateful Dead tie-dye t-shirt, shorts, and Birkenstocks, looked at my resume, and asked when I could start. Jeff has an uncanny ability to create culture just by being. He was our fearless leader, but he was more than that. He made that space ooze love and connection from every corner. He worked there for nearly 20 years and when he left, the soul left with him. He has a gift. He also loves wine. When he would teach, he would transport us to those far-off places, the places I longed for from my recent travels. He would speak about Pigato, which comes from the coastal towns of Liguria. The vines hang over the Mediterranean and are drenched in sunlight and sea air. When I would put my nose in the glass, I could smell it. I was there. I began to see how wine not only connected people but could transport them to a different time and place. I spent my days at cafés before work drawing maps of wine regions and making flashcards. I was a sponge and this was the only thing that mattered. I took exams and received accreditations, but my connection to wine deepend in an unexpected way. Countless winemakers from Europe flocked to À Côté to host wine dinners. We would drink and eat with them until the sun came up. It was a club, a club that transported me all over the world without having to leave Oakland, a club that made me feel like those old southern women from my past, and I was hooked…
Why did I create Acquire?
In an effort to provide to others what has been given to me, on scale. Humans need to connect deeply. It is innate. Gathering is imperative for achieving business success. With so many obligatory meetings, the human element is almost always lost in the shuffle. I have been fortunate to have had countless soul-filling moments build my story. I have seen, firsthand, how bringing the human element changes the way we engage in the corporate world.