I was Ahab and the burrito was my white whale.
Let me explain: Noodle Bar, after flirting with death in its early days, had taken off by the end of the first year it was open. We finally had good cooks. Every stool was taken all day long, thanks to more media attention than really made any sense—so much press that friends and colleagues started to resent it.
With only a 600-square-foot space and twenty-seven very cramped seats, we needed to open a second place, so we could attract, pay and keep more and better cooks and so the business could grow.