The face of Zug's
With big ideas and bold strategies, longtime owners move to reinvigorate East Pete fine-dining fixture
  • General manager Terry Lee works at Haydn Zug's most days until closing, chatting at tables, introducing new wines and escorting diners to the door. "He's just a consummate host," one customer says.

  • Patty Lee handles the restaurant's seasonal decor, with help from Joanne Kelso.

  • "I had to make some hard decisions," says Lee, who owns the restaurant with his wife, Patty. "We fired almost the whole kitchen. They weren't doing things my way."

  • Chef Byron Kehr worked for the Lees for 10 years in the 1990s.

  • Manager Kristina Roache is a veteran of corporate restaurants and the military.

  • Terry Lee dedicates himself to retaining every single one of Haydn Zug's 50,000 annual diners. "We'll go to any length to get (customers) back," he says.

By MARY BETH SCHWEIGERT
Updated Dec 17, 2008 11:23
Terry Lee has always done whatever it takes to keep Haydn Zug's afloat, whether it's living in a single room or firing his entire kitchen staff.

So last summer, with rumors of the East Petersburg restaurant's imminent demise running rampant, Lee bought a newspaper ad, assuring loyal diners it wasn't true.

Hundreds of customers commented on the bold strategy, which Lee defends as absolutely necessary.

"(Rumors have) the potential to put us out of business," he says.

Far from closing, Haydn Zug's is expanding.

But Lee can't dodge another truth, and he doesn't try. Zug's business has dropped 12 to 15 percent this year.

Lee blames the economy — but mostly poor management and especially himself.

So earlier this year, he made a series of decisive moves aimed at reinvigorating the nearly 40-year-old Haydn Zug's, known for its Williamsburg-style atmosphere and classic American cuisine.

"I had to make some hard decisions," says Lee, who owns the restaurant with his wife, Patty.

"We fired almost the whole kitchen. They weren't doing things my way."

Lee, a 48-year restaurant veteran with strong opinions, lofty standards and a peck-on-the-cheek style, dedicates himself to retaining every single one of Haydn Zug's 50,000 annual diners — even if it means writing separate checks for a party of 25.

"We'll go to any length to get (customers) back," Lee says.

"To lose one is just stupid, ignorant, makes no sense."

Man with a plan
Haydn Zug's, Lee says, is driven by a personality, an ego.

His.

"I made it that way," says Lee, who managed Haydn Zug's in the mid-1970s and returned in 1989 to buy it.

"I like being here. It's not a job for me."

But Lee wasn't always there.

In 2005, the Lees opened Haydn's on Pine, in Harrisburg. For more than two years, they juggled operation of both restaurants.

But Lee, 61, says the quality began to slide in East Pete. Customers noticed that Zug's "face" wasn't as visible.

The Lees, of York, realized that Haydn Zug's survival depended on their watchful presence. They closed Haydn's on Pine in January.

Lee fired much of Zug's kitchen and front-of-the-house staff, who he says weren't following his recipes or showing enough care and pride.

Lee returned to his old post as general manager and rehired former Chef Byron Kehr, who worked for the Lees for 10 years in the 1990s.

Lee is optimistic that despite the economy, business will pick up. But he's not just sitting around, waiting for that to happen.

The Lees hope to build a 19-room hotel adjacent to Zug's, which is housed in a 150-year-old former general store. Plans also include a 100-seat banquet room, new bar area and rear restaurant entrance.

In fact, Lee's goal for 2009 is to increase sales by 10 percent, topping $2 million for the first time ever.

Resistance is futile
Lee, an Illinois native who moved to York at age 6, got hooked on the restaurant business with his first job as a teenage dishwasher.

Even so, Lee attempted to escape the stress and long hours of restaurant work, trying his hand at sales, teaching and cable TV over the years.

"I tried to get out of the business," he says. "Think about it. Who the hell would want to do this?"

But it kept pulling Lee back.

In his long career, he owned or managed a series of regional restaurants, including Wrightsville's Accomac Inn.

In 1979, Lee left Haydn Zug's — ironically enough, after being fired. (To this day, he says he's not sure why it happened.)

Lee met Patty, his wife of 18 years, in 1984, when he was hired to revamp York's Victory Italian Restaurant after a bad review in the local newspaper.

He noticed Patty's good looks — and serving prowess — right away.

Building a winning team
For 12 years, the Lees lived in a tiny room above Haydn Zug's, schlepping to the restaurant bathroom downstairs.

"We did what we had to do to keep the business afloat," Lee says. "We've always done what we had to do."

Patty, a former geriatric nurse, joined Zug's full time in 1990. Unlike her husband, she prefers to stay out of the spotlight, managing the financial side of the business.

"I'm the recluse," she laughs.

Nearly $200,000 worth of seasonal decor — with its own storage shed — helps create Zug's welcoming atmosphere.

The Lees have made the restaurant, a favorite spot for occasions from 50th anniversary parties to funeral luncheons, into a wine destination.

For many years, they employed almost exclusively family, including Lee's late parents. Gordon Lee worked in maintenance, and his wife Maxine cooked until her arthritis got too bad.

The Lees' current 40 employees include Kehr, who Lee personally trained. Kehr left Zug's in 2001 to work for a large food-service company.

Manager Kristina Roache is a veteran of corporate restaurants and the military.

The Lees are hiring wait staff, a gig that comes with a 250-page manual and a test.

New servers get three days to hack it. Only about one in 10 survives.

"They tell me I'm hard to work for," Lee says, "and I thank them for the compliment."

'A consummate host'
Lee works most days until closing, chatting at tables, introducing new wines and escorting diners to the door.

Customer requests, even the near-impossible ones — Remember those 25 separate checks? — are honored.

End of story.

"One unhappy customer ... can affect as many as 100 people," Lee says.

"Bad news travels much faster."

Olde Greenfield Inn owner Ray Hottenstein, a friend and competitor for 20 years, attributes Lee's success to his gregarious personality and willingness to work hard.

"He'll do anything he can do to be successful, to take care of his customers," Hottenstein says.

"He's always in a good mood, even when things are bad."

Lee's customer-friendly policies stem from his own restaurant pet peeves.

Half-portions are an option. Substitutions are no problem. The kitchen even takes requests.

Steve Wiley, who owns Wiley's Pharmacy, brings business associates to Haydn Zug's, where he says the staff greets him by name and works to accommodate last-minute reservations.

Lee often stops by Wiley's table to ask about his family and business.

"He is just a consummate host," Wiley says.

Recipe for success
In 15 years, Lee has axed only menu item: smoked pork chops.

Any other alterations, Lee says, would cause swift and fierce reaction from regulars.

"That menu does not change," he says. "It's just too popular. There's nothing on there they don't like."

Many of the recipes, like the cheesy chowder, come from the Lee family, dating all the way back to his great-grandmother.

The daily specials give Kehr room to experiment. (The pork chops still sell out as a special.)

Lee makes no apologies for the prices, which can hit $34.95 per entree.

"We serve the best product that's available," he says. "I'm not ashamed to say we charge for it."

What personal life?
Lee decided at age 21 that he didn't want to have kids.

It's not that he doesn't like them — Haydn Zug's has a dozen booster seats and six highchairs.

He just knew that his nonexistent personal life would spell parenting disaster.

In 2002, the Lees built a house on 11 acres along the Susquehanna River.

The lack of neighbors is fine by Lee. By the time he gets home from work, he's tired of people.

He doesn't have any real hobbies, or time to do much more than watch TV, sip a glass of wine and stare at the river.

"That's why I won't retire completely," Lee says. "I don't know what I'd do.

"I would probably die. Quickly."

CONTACT THE NEW ERA:
mschweigert@LNPnews.com or 291-8757
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