A few months ago, I attended the Unreasonable Hospitality Summit in Nashville, and I have been sitting with something ever since. The room was full of leaders who had all come together around a deceptively simple idea: how do we create magic through our own work?
The phrase “unreasonable hospitality” comes from Will Guidara, former co-owner of Eleven Madison Park, which was named the #1 restaurant in the world in 2017. You might know his book, Unreasonable Hospitality: The Remarkable Power of Giving People More Than They Expect, and may have even seen it referenced in an episode of The Bear. As someone who has spent years watching what separates leaders who build truly exceptional cultures from those who simply run efficient operations, I have kept this book nearby on my bookshelf.
The idea is this: service is black-and-white. You get the order right, you execute the task, you deliver what was promised. This makes people feel served. Hospitality is color. It is how you make someone feel seen, and as though the moment was created just for them. The pivot from service to hospitality, Guidara argues, begins the moment you move from “one size fits all” to “one size fits one.”
One Size Fits One: The Leadership Art of Making People Feel Seen
The story that crystallized Guidara’s philosophy for me involves a $2 hot dog. During a lunch service at Eleven Madison Park, he overheard a table of out-of-town guests lamenting that for all the Michelin-starred meals they’d eaten in New York, they’d never had a real New York street hot dog. He slipped out, found a Sabrett’s cart around the corner, bought one, and had his chef plate it with the same care as a wagyu course. When it arrived at the table, the guests were completely floored. He later reflected that in a career of serving extraordinary food, he had never seen anyone react the way they did to that $2 hot dog.
That moment was not about the hot dog. It was about being truly seen, about someone noticing what you actually wanted, in this moment, as the unique human you are. That is what unreasonable hospitality looks like. And Guidara’s insight is that this principle is not limited to restaurants. In a world where the majority of our economy runs on service, every leader has a choice: will you deliver what’s expected, or will you make people feel something?
The Mechanics of Magic
What I keep coming back to from that summit is that magic, in this context, is not mystical. It is engineered. The hot dog moment looked like spontaneity, but underneath it was a server who was actually listening, a leader who acted on what he heard, and a kitchen culture that could pivot in minutes without ego. Magic is what we call attentiveness made visible. It is the trick of making someone feel that what just happened was meant only for them, when in reality it was made possible by a team that had quietly trained itself to notice. Leaders who create magic are not performing it. They are removing the friction between noticing and responding. The moment becomes magical because someone refused to let it pass unattended.
For leaders, “one size fits one” plays out in two directions: toward the people you serve externally, and toward the people you lead. Generic best practices, delivered uniformly, can be technically excellent and still feel hollow. Real hospitality in leadership — and real illumination of the people around you — requires specificity. This person. This moment. This gesture. This need unexpectedly met.
It reminds me of something I have observed in my own client conversations: the leaders who create lasting impact are rarely the ones who rely solely on the most polished playbook. They are the ones who pay close enough attention to know what each person on their team actually needs to feel capable, valued, and seen. That attentiveness is not a personality trait. It is a practice. A discipline. And it can be built.
Do Try This At Home: Make Your Team Feel Seen
Notice what someone actually wants, not just what they asked for. In your next conversation — with a direct report, a client, a collaborator — listen for the message beneath their words. What do they want to feel? What would make this moment unexpectedly generous? It is not about spending a lot of money; small gestures go a long way.
Replace one standard process with a personal touch. A form onboarding email, a generic thank-you, a one-size-fits-all feedback template — pick one and make it specific to the person on the receiving end. It takes more time, but that extra time will not go unnoticed.
The leaders we remember are not the ones who ran the cleanest operations. They are the ones who, somewhere along the way, made us feel that we had been waiting for. That is the trick. And like every good trick, it depends on the discipline beneath the gesture; on noticing what is actually in the room, and choosing to act on it before the moment passes.
If this resonated with you and you’re thinking about what it might look like to bring more of this into your work, I’d invite you to stay connected.
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