February may be the unkindest month for Houston chef Greg Webb. This February, instead of celebrating the one-year anniversary of his first restaurant, the eponymous Gregory's, he was desperately wondering how many more days he could keep the doors open. By March, Webb realized his maiden effort was doomed, and last week he closed his Highland Village cafe.
Two years ago, February also marked the end of Webb's previous hitch at the short-lived Mick's Gulf Coast Grill at Richmond and Greenbriar, shuttered despite favorable reviews of Webb's work and his recognition by the Houston Chronicle as chef of the year. Webb has been a player in the Houston restaurant scene for many years, working in some of the hottest kitchens in town: at the Sierra Grill with Robert McGrath, in Tony Vallone's La Griglia and in two of Alex Patout's restaurants, in downtown Houston and on Royal Street in New Orleans. Through all those years of sous-chefdom, though, Webb dreamed of opening his own place. "Since I was 15 years old, it was all I've ever wanted. Closing Gregory's was the hardest thing I've ever done -- it was ripping out my own heart -- but I had to do it. It was over."
When a restaurant with such a strong kitchen expires prematurely, the cause of death usually can be traced to lack of finances, a doomed location or what are nebulously referred to as "management problems." The location itself wasn't the problem with Gregory's, Webb says, but it indirectly caused his later cash-flow difficulties. "That location was so perfect, I thought I just had to jump at it. I figured I'd straighten out the financing later. Now I'm six figures in debt, and it's too late."
Rushing to realize his dream, Webb also believed he could find a good general manager soon enough to handle the front of the store. He couldn't. Administration and office work became a bog where Webb floundered deeper every day. "I just couldn't do it all," he says. "I spent more time worrying about business than my demi-glace. The kitchen is about passion, creativity, freedom. There's none of that in dealing with the TABC or payroll, no joy at all," he exclaims bitterly. "The restaurant business is an ugly, stupid business wrapped around the beautiful art that goes on in the kitchen."
The last two months were the worst, Webb says, as his restaurant wobbled on its last legs. "I lost 35 pounds in eight weeks," says the already-slender chef. "I slept maybe two hours a night and then had terrible nightmares. And the worst thing was that I was afraid that my turmoil was showing up on the plates. I wasn't satisfied with what was coming out of my kitchen. I'm a perfectionist, and I felt just awful for my guests."
He spent a week in bed grieving and avoiding the dark flock of lawyers and CPAs flapping around the wreckage of Gregory's, but the irrepressible Webb already sounds like he's on the rebound. He vows to stay in Houston and to revive his back-burnered plans for a cookbook, and he has already been drafted by Buttarazzi's [5121 FM 1960 West, (281)537-5396] to take its staid Continental-French-Italian dinner menu from two stars to three.
"It's a gorgeous room, with really committed owners and a great infrastructure already in place. So I asked them, 'What, you mean all I have to do is cook?' " says Webb with a laugh. "What a relief! They made me start feeling passionate about cooking again." With wry humor, Webb has retitled the working draft of his cookbook. "Now I'm going to call it I'll Be in the Kitchen, because that's where I belong," he declares. "You know, I used to envy every single chef who managed to get his or her own restaurant. I don't feel that way anymore. Now I'll just smile, knowingly, and wish them luck.
