Omotenashi – Four bars and the quest for the perfect on-premise experience – Comment

The on-premise provides an experiential connection between brands and consumers, but, unlike in other channels, there’s a ‘middleman’ who occupies a buffer zone linking the two – and can often make the difference when it comes to brilliant experiences.

“I genuinely love it. I do it purely for the passion of it. I don’t need the money whatsoever. However, the crowds, the environment, diversity of people you meet – that’s what it is about. There’s no other job you experience it.” The words of Luis, the bartender that I got chatting to on a recent visit to Belfast, where I stumbled across a jazz bar and settled in for a negroni.

Over an hour or so, I observed Luis, effortlessly tending to his guests, methodically giving recommendations, telling stories in a strange Spanish/Northern Irish drawl and providing nearly as much entertainment as the fiddler and tambourine duo on stage. He, along with his two colleagues behind the bar, kept the whole operation afloat; the link between parched punters and their thirst-quenching elixir, the experience makers and the purveyors of good times.

I’m sure this is familiar to many of you. Consumers’ on-premise experiences are shaped as much by the service they’re offered as it is by the drinks. Great hospitality has the power to transform alcohol brands into a fundamental pillar of fond memories through which long-lasting relationships are formed.

It reminded me of a word that I recently learned while researching the on-premise landscape in Japan. More than a word, it sums up excellent hospitality culture and what on-premise venues should aspire to. ‘Omotenashi’ is said to be impossible to fully explain in words, but in essence means looking after one’s guests wholeheartedly.

An intrinsic part of the Japanese on-premise, it centres around delivering more than just good food and drink, instead elevating that delivery to encompass the whole guest experience.

The culture of omotenashi is one that Japanese hospitality staff are intensely proud of, and with good reason; a culture that delights guests and fulfils servers should be celebrated, as it comes with no lack of effort. Leaving consumers with smiles on their faces is difficult, especially in an age where social media-fuelled expectations are higher than ever and we’re in a never-ending search for perfection.

It was with this in mind, and as a dedicated student of the on-premise, that I set out on a quest to identify the fundamental elements of a perfect hospitality experience, in which brand owners can build relationships between their brands and prospective consumers.

Yes, I took on the unenviable task of sitting down at three more bars to observe how experiences are curated and delivered – all in the name of research, of course. Alongside the jazz bar in Belfast came a London East End boozer, a Mancunian speakeasy bar and a jam-packed Bavarian bierkeller, a shelter from the blistering summer heat in Munich.

It would be difficult to find four different-looking venues, but as soon as I set foot in each, I knew that I was in for a treat.

Walking into the London pub on a Sunday afternoon was like an embrace with a long-lost friend, the warm murmur of conversation drowning out the low hum of football commentary from the TV in the corner.

In the speakeasy cocktail bar, I was perfectly greeted by our host, a sense of confidence immediately letting me know that I was in very capable hands.

But it was experiencing the relief of the cool, subterranean bierkeller where I most knew that I had made a good choice. As I entered, what hit me wasn’t necessarily the aroma of pork knuckle and sauerkraut, or the vast displays of steins (and they were vast), but the pure contentment of the guests.

I’m not talking about those cheesy, easy-to-please punters either – the type who are content with big grins delivered by bogus, Instagram-able versions of ‘German’ hospitality (not that there is anything wrong with that – it’s just not for me); these were serious on-premise buffs – and they were happy.

Why? Well, like each of the other venues that delivered on the on-premise experience, it was authentic. It was friendly without being cocky. These guys wanted me to have a good time; they wanted me to have the best drinks they had to offer, but they didn’t want to push anything on me. If I wanted to hear a story, they had plenty, but if I wanted to be left alone, then that was fine too.

It’s difficult to describe, but it was the staff that made it. Maybe it was omotenashi.