I’ve fallen behind, not on the Crummy Cooking itself, but on reporting about it.
I’ll be pumping out a few posts over the weekend to try to catch up, but I’m not 100% certain when some of these happened, so please bear with me.
I’ve fallen behind, not on the Crummy Cooking itself, but on reporting about it.
I’ll be pumping out a few posts over the weekend to try to catch up, but I’m not 100% certain when some of these happened, so please bear with me.
So the soles of my Ecco shoes — a nice pair of Oxfords I hadn’t worn for a while — started disintegrating at work yesterday. Chunks were falling out of them all over the floor.
I searched online and found this article (http://ctwatchdog.com/business/ecco-shoes-warning-almost-new-expensive-shoes-disintegrate) about it from 2010, with a lot of rants from soon-to-be-ex-Ecco customers.
I called Ecco customer service, who said I could return the shoes in a prepaid bag for a “warranty analysis”, which sounds like a squirrely way of getting out of doing anything for me. Not sure what I expect, but some kind of “Tylenol-class” customer service behavior might have saved this brand for me.
Doesn’t look like it. Either they’ve written off the victims or they don’t know how to do industrial grade customer service. In any case, hard to see taking a risk on another pair. Maybe they’ve solved the problem, and maybe they haven’t, but who wants to find out. There are plenty of nice-looking comfort shoes whose soles don’t disintegrate.
If you have ever made a business case within a large organization (in fact, if you have ever tried to make any kind of presentation to a large organization) you will have run across Dr. No. He or she is everywhere.
When I was a geek working in some large organizations, I would occasionally get called in to presentations, either by fellow geeks or by third parties.
My gut assumption was that I was being called in to sneer at something in the presentation. Why else would they pull me from my terminal and bring me into a conference room?
I was a Dr. No:
(The last one is kind of rich, since no one ever accused geeks of caring too much about customers (although many of us do).)
Dr. No’s are dangerous, because they do have the ear of their management, and it is often the case that management has brought them in, like attorneys, to find problems and flaws. But they can be neutralized or even won over.
The first order of business is to understand the psychology of the Dr. No. Why does he assume he is being brought in to sneer?
The main reason is low self-esteem. She can’t imagine that any exec would have her in a meeting for her opinions. After all, her opinions are insignificant. The only possible motive for having her there is to find fault, and the only way to impress the execs is to find every possible flaw.
The situation is complicated by the fact that execs indeed often do want Dr No’s to find fault. But, like attorneys, they want to find the real flaws, not every possible flaw. They want, ideally, for Dr. No to exercise some judgment, to give a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down based on the balance of flaws and virtues. They want, in essence, a business partner with a specialist point of view.
This analysis provides the key to handling the Dr. No: make him feel like the business partner he should be, and he will be an ally instead of an enemy.
Easier said than done, you might say. But it’s straightforward:
An adroit combination of these two approaches will have most Dr. No’s (Dr’s No?) eating out of your hand.
We have discussed this a bit in posts here and here, but maybe bringing some of the points together will help us understand the fear/greed topic as a whole here.
The main fear for non-geeks in a business-case setting is we will piss away a lot of money on some scheme I don’t understand and it will cost a billion times as much as we thought and take a billion times longer and it still won’t bring about the business results we want.
Cost and time are of course intimately related in a software project and closely coupled in other geek ventures, but some references in the presentation will exacerbate them:
And of course, the Fear-inducers with respect to ultimately getting the right results:
Is this the right term? Shouldn’t it be “Scots Broth”?
In any case, Debbie has been making noise about doing this for some time (days, actually).
She was out of town this weekend and I gradually got the idea of bogarting the whole idea from her and making it my Crummy self.
(She doesn’t care that much about getting credit for cooking. I think she’s cooked enough, including for the Cal Band, that she’s got, in Bob Seger’s immortal lyric, “Nothing left to prove”.)
In any case, I went to Wagshals and got a whole leg of lamb, with most of it cut up into “butterflied leg of lamb” steaks for future CCooks. The bones themselves, with generous accoutrements of meat, went into the slow cooker with onion, carrot, celery, barley, etc.
Taking it out soon to see how it did.
(You know, I started worrying that I left out the onion. Zut.)
Crummy Cook to the rescue last night, since I was home earlier and Debbie later (with a lot on her mind).
We’ve used for some time curry mixes from Curry Simple, thanks to Debbie’s brother Tom, who quietly researches great food on line and lets us (and others) know what he’s found.
Three kinds of curry: Green, Yellow, and Red. And a Lemongrass/Coconut soup.
I used our last Curry Simple last night, a Yellow pak. And, since Debbie is sick of brown rice and I’m reluctant to eat white we compromised on Thai red rice.
(Debbie and I are trying to get better at food porn. Pardon the blobs of sauce at 3 o’clock.)
Debbie made Caesar salad.
All this is quite a change from the investor presentation setting, where most of the questions from potential investors revolve around risk and reward (although here, too, the discussion is almost never very technical).
A recipe Debbie remembered with great fondness from Marcella Hazan’s “Classic Italian Cookbook”, which we got as a wedding present from Andy and Cathy back at the dawn of time.
The recipe is all over the web, but relatively few give MH credit. Here’s one.
Josh and I made it (he’s home for the weekend), and it didn’t look as good as Marcella’s for the first outing, but not too shabby.
The milk solids tasted fantastic, despite being somewhat darker than the prototype. The pork, however was kind of bland. It tasted like it’s bland cousin the pork tenderloin, despite all the fat on it and all the braising.
Criticism and Self-Criticism
Not sure where the responsibility lies for the bland pork. You know, I still don’t brown things enough, and maybe that had something to do with it. The sin in my case is the sin of impatience: “Goddam it, surely it’s browned by now!” You could almost say that if you have to ask, it’s probably not done.
But maybe Whole Foods had something to do with it. They have a hard time making even their fatty cuts fatty, if you know what I mean. Too many Social X-rays shopping there.
In an earlier post on raising money from investors, I argued for the importance of a “framing slide” at the beginning of a presentation to help your audience situate themselves within your pitch.
Is there the same argument for a framing slide in business-case pitch to suits? And does the slide contain the same bullet points?
Yes, and no.
Yes, a framing slide is good in a pitch like this, and for the same reason: It shows respect for your audience, understanding of what questions will be on their minds at the beginning of your presentation, and a promise to answer those questions.
But, no, the questions on the mind of a business-case audience are not the same as an audience of potential investors.
A group of suits hearing a geek pitch a business case are not generally investing their own money, or even the money of limited partners. They are spending out of a budget or hearing an argument to lobby for budget. Therefore the budget and use of funds, although important, is perhaps not as important as the investor pitch.
What business-case investors care most about is:
(Not an exhaustive list, perhaps, but one that stems from an attempt to get into the mind of the audience.)
The core insight here is that business cases within a large organization have much more to do with turf than with ROI.
Make no mistake, a business-case pitch will need slides on budget and slides on ROI (perhaps lots of them). But the essential first slide is all about the politics.
It will not have escaped the attentive reader that a large number of my Crummy Cook episodes happen when Debbie is away, although on paper the core purpose of Crummy Cooking is to spell her at the point of sweat.
So you will be pleased to know that my latest recipe from Epicurious, although prepared on Saturday the night before Debbie came back from her trip, was also served on Sunday for her homecoming dinner.
There it is (not a very pretty picture) in the pot a-cooking.
Boneless country pork ribs, it turns out, are really slices of pork shoulder. Looked pretty fatty when I started, but the miracle of braising turned lard into umami.
(And Debbie said she loved them.)
Criticism and self-criticism
Nothing major. It turned out really well.