Road Trip: Driving Lessons from Chris Muller

Chris Muller teaches Chain Leader a thing or two about the real Orlando restaurant scene.

By David Farkas, Senior Editor -- Chain Leader, 1/1/2004

“Look! Did you ever think you’d see a sign like this in McDonald’s?” asks a bemused Christopher Muller, pointing to a small plaque near an elevator instructing customers to put “china and flatware here.” But wait...what about the elevator itself, not to mention pool tables, antiques, gelato and a menu featuring fancy pastas alongside burgers and fries? Muller shrugs. We’re in Orlando, Fla., after all. Chains try all sorts of crazy things here, he adds.

I’ve come to this restaurant mecca to discover its trends and fashions. And who better to guide me than Muller, associate professor and interim director of the Center for Multi-Unit Restaurant Management at the University of Central Florida’s Rosen School of Hospitality Management. He has a talent for digging up what might be the next big thing. “Chris can find anything, and he knows everyone,” says his friend Tony Hughes, a managing director for the United Kingdom’s Mitchells & Butlers.

Right now, we are in the section of Orlando that pops to mind when tourists think about this place: Disney, Universal Studios, souvenirs, strollers, hotels and chain restaurants. It’s not this Orlando that excites Muller. He prefers prowling for new restaurants in the city itself, a half-dozen miles north via Interstate 4.

“We’re going into real Orlando, where there’s a thriving restaurant scene,” Muller had eagerly promised several hours earlier.

So how’d we end up here? More on that later.

The Real Thing
The region universally dubbed “Orlando” is actually four sprawling counties known locally as Metro Orlando and home to 1.7 million permanent residents. Its 99,000 hotel rooms—the most anywhere except, perhaps, in Las Vegas—temporarily housed 43 million people this year, according to the Metro Orlando Economic Development Commission.

The 101-square-mile city of Orlando, population 190,351, has been overshadowed by the theme parks and malls just south of it. For a time, landmark Church Street Station, a bastion of garish restaurants and glitzy nightclubs, lured tourists seeking a nightlife. But business slackened after Disney and Universal added adult-oriented venues. Today, it’s all but closed, with the few remaining restaurants catering to locals.

“Everybody associates Orlando with theme parks, but a lot of people are moving back into the city,” Muller says. They’re being enticed by affordable housing, the convenience of living near downtown, and the presence of up-to-date shops, restaurants and bars.

One sign of downtown’s vibrancy is Robinson Street, a closed-to-traffic strip lined with restaurants and bars. Muller likes trendy Slingapore’s, a European-style concept he believes can be duplicated elsewhere. “It’s a drinking bar, sushi bar and full-service restaurant,” he says.

Thornton Park, a once-blighted neighborhood bordering Lake Eola, has become the epitome of urban vitality, Muller explains as we pass refurbished craftsman bungalows shaded by towering Spanish oaks. Developed 15 years ago, the area teems with boutiques, spas, markets and restaurants. Hue, serving up-to-the-minute American cuisine, is managed by local restaurateur Manny Garcia. Dexter’s, a classy wine bar and restaurant concept, put a second outpost here. And Wildfires Bar ’n Grill, a one-off barbecue joint, may expand soon. “They’re sniffing around for sites in the same markets I’m in,” Muller says.

Wizard of Za
In addition to his teaching duties, Muller is president and CEO of Za Bistro! Restaurant Holdings, an Orlando-based company that opened its first upmarket pizzeria in midDecember in Maitland. He and his partners are targeting affluent urbanites ranging in age from 25 to 60.

A second unit is scheduled to open this spring in Baldwin Park, a 1,100-acre development of neo-traditional houses and apartments 2 miles from downtown. The project, which broke ground this year, will eventually contain some 3,300 residences, two lakes and its own commercial district.

“This is me,” Muller shouts, bumping along a dirt path that borders the Village Center, Baldwin Park’s looming retail complex, still under construction. He points to an exposed corner shell, where the second Za Bistro should open in April. “We’re saying Za Bistro is a $30 experience for 15 bucks,” he explains.

To make the restaurant’s signature hand-tossed pizza, Muller is installing an 88-inch-wide wood-fired oven in each unit. “Because it’s our major piece of equipment, we got that size,” he says. “We’re going to run the kitchen with just four other pieces—blast chiller, charbroiler, steamer and a six-burner range as backup.” Besides pizza, the restaurant will offer sandwiches, pastas and salads.

The business gives the professor the chance to practice what he preaches. “I’m a firm believer that you should be an entrepreneur,” he declares. “We want our students to be owners and operators.”

They’re on their way already, given that many have industry jobs. “My biggest challenge,” Muller says, only half-joking, “is getting the kids in the 9 a.m. classes to stay awake. Not because they were out partying. They were closing the night before.”

Former student Chuck Zell, who graduated in August, credits Muller for inspiring him. “He was the only teacher I had who walked us through how he organized his own company, how he incorporated it and so forth. Chris was focused on us becoming vice presidents of operations and owners,” recalls Zell, who opened a martini bar called Flo in Orlando last month.

Successful Failure
Muller’s practical knowledge comes from several stints as a general manager and a turn at co-owning a restaurant. The Village Corners in Centerville, Mass., lasted just a year but taught him valuable lessons he now shares with students. “I deem it a very successful failure,” he says, tucking into Crunchy Shrimp in Hot and Sour Chili Glaze at Tchoup Chop, Emeril Lagasse’s stunning restaurant in the new Royal Pacific Resort. Cast-glass chandeliers hang above a “zero edge” pool in the center of the dining room.

Now tenured, the New York native arrived at the Rosen School in 1999 after teaching in the School of Hotel Administration at Cornell, where he also earned a master’s degree and doctorate.

The bespectacled professor is not the bookish sort. Colleague and Darden Eminent Scholar William Fisher describes him as a passionate and engaging speaker. “Chris can explain what it’s like to get financing for a business, because he’s done it. That’s bringing the real world into the classroom. Students admire him,” he says. Last year, Muller won the school’s Excellence in Undergraduate Teaching Award.

Spotting Students
Muller wants to see more students study foodservice management. Of the 900 in the school, only 190 are aiming for restaurant careers—a figure he hopes to boost to 250 after a new $28.1 million building is finished. The off-campus facility, slated to open in January on Universal Boulevard, significantly expands classroom and lab space. “We’ll have no problem getting students jobs,” says Muller. The four-county region has 3,579 restaurants, according to the Metro Orlando Economic Development Commission.

We bump into a former student after lunch at Brio in Winter Park Village. The young man mostly gripes about how he’d change things were he running the show. Muller chuckles admiringly as he exits the restaurant. “That guy has always wanted to run his own place, and he won’t be happy until he does,” he says.

For his part, Muller seems comfortable doing exactly what he does—teaching, traveling and spending considerable time in restaurants. He frequently introduces himself to the meeters and greeters guarding entrances. If he knows the GM, he drops a name. At the Samba Room, for instance, an assistant manager laughs after Muller jokes that “Andy seems much happier with the new owners.”

Name Dropper
Muller dropped a seriously big name earlier in the day: Blaine Sweatt, the executive vice president at Darden in charge of new concepts and, incidentally, a UCF grad. “He said he’ll be at Seasons 52 when we go there for dinner,” Muller says nonchalantly. This, finally, is how we end up at the glitzy McDonald’s.

Despite rush-hour traffic, I-4 is still the quickest way to Darden’s innovative new eatery in Dr. Phillips, a suburb notable for high household incomes and a bustling restaurant row. McDonald’s, with its fancy menu and fine-dining interior, fits right in. Muller, who you might think has seen everything, is boggled. “It has more stuff in here than I’ve ever seen,” he says.

The thrills are just beginning. Muller swings his Mazda into a strip mall a mile away where a half-dozen restaurants beckon. At fast-casual Moe’s, workers rolling burritos holler, “Welcome to Moe’s,” at every customer. A huge aquarium greets customers at Moonfish Grill, and waiters in brocaded uniforms sweep past with seafood grilled over hickory fires.

Venezia Plaza is across the street. Seasons 52 shares the strip mall with other high-end chain-operated eateries: Bonefish, Timpano and Samba Room. Tonight, Timpano, an Italian-American throwback restaurant, is recreating a World War II moment: The members of a big band are dressed in uniform, and USO bunting hangs from the walls.

Seasons 52, Darden’s “fresh grill and wine bar” concept, occupies a pad behind these eateries, although its tower is visible from the road. GM George Miliotes and Executive Chef Cliff Pleau warmly greet Muller. Pleau, a former Disney chef, developed the low-calorie menu in concert with nutritionist-author Patricia Smith, R.D., who’s here tonight, too. Servers tote PDAs to wirelessly summon calorie counts and nutritional analyses of menu items when-ever a customer asks.

According to Miliotes, the dinner-only restaurant serves some 600 people a night. He won’t reveal a check average, but entrees are priced between $15 and $20. The wine list has 100-plus varieties, 65 of which are offered by the glass.

Sweatt, who has just returned from Italy, and Smith join us and insist we order dessert. It arrives in tall shot glasses, housed nine to a rack. Because entrees don’t contain more than 450 calories, sweets are tiny things, selling for just $1.95 apiece.

A few minutes later, Darden Chairman and CEO Joe Lee, who lives nearby, grabs a seat. When he learns Muller has been playing restaurant guide all day, he seems pleased. “You know,” he says, “you’d be hard put to find a guy who knows more about ’em.”