Sudden Impact

What's more, the entire city was watching, and everybody had an opinion. On November 16, the restaurant reopened amid much fanfare and scrutiny. With an unfamiliar staff, a reformulated menu, and no time for a "soft opening," Shire and Licari had feared that the launch would be tough. And the first 10 days were a disaster. Service was slow, food was cold, and the ordering system malfunctioned. "People were walking out. It was horrible," Licari says. "You could have put me in front of a firing squad, and it would have felt better."

But Shire, Licari, and their staff persevered. "It was round-the-clock work," Licari says. "Everybody was here in the morning and here all night. We'd have a few hours to sleep, and then we'd be back."

The grueling hours were largely dictated by startup pressures. But Licari says that they also signaled the new professionalism he was trying to instill. "We kept the menu, but we changed the attitude," he says. "You have to have discipline, a leader, a work ethic. The old Locke-Ober had lost that."

Some staff members simply couldn't adjust to the new demands. One kitchen employee of 20 years took off his apron in the middle of his shift and walked out the back door. "We never heard from him again," Licari remembers. But every day, he says, the gap closed a little more. "By the end of the tenth day, it wasn't smooth, it wasn't good, but it wasn't ugly."

Gradually, the furor settled down. The kitchen hit its stride, the waitstaff learned the drill, and the bar began attracting a younger clientele. By early December, things were going fairly well. But Licari insisted on keeping a tight hold on the reservation book, limiting the number of diners until he felt that the staff could handle them.

Holiday business was tremendous, and in February, the New York Times gave the restaurant a glowing review. By June, the private rooms were packed with graduation business, and the dining room was booked solid -- even on Monday nights.

The partners have since embarked on an ambitious plan for renovating Locke-Ober's nine banquet rooms. They are targeting members of the city's young financial crowd, some of whom Licari had courted as investors. He sees corporate and private functions as the restaurant's most significant future business. On one recent night, a party of 14 young financiers spent $11,000 on wine alone, Licari recalls, grinning.

Meanwhile, longtime patrons still recognize the restaurant they have loved for decades. Just after it opened, Shire remembers, one regular stopped her in the lounge. "Very nice," he said. "I see you didn't do anything here." Shire says that her heart sank. Then she realized that it was a compliment.

"I learned long ago never to say that you 'own' Locke-Ober," Shire remarks. "This restaurant has been here for more than 100 years, and it will be here for many more. We're merely a part of the caretaking staff."

Linda Tischler (ltischler@fastcompany. com) is a Fast Company senior writer.