Letter From America (Part 2).

The $2 Hot Dog and the Art of Service Excellence.

Two weeks ago, I wrote to you from somewhere over the Atlantic, heading west, telling you to go and do the thing on your bucket list before life gets in the way.

This week I’m writing to you having done exactly that and now home and reflecting on an epic trip to America to see the FIFA World Cup.

Scotland didn’t advance from the group. But we sang ourselves hoarse in Boston and joined the Tartan Army on the beach in Miami – and my 17-year-old son now has one of those precious memories that will stay with him for life.

But it was more than just football. Every time I travel to the US, I learn more about business, service and human behaviour than I know what to do with.

Beyond the sport, beyond the cities, beyond the sheer scale of the place, America reminds me every single time of something that I see UK businesses struggle to consistently deliver: the experience of being genuinely looked after.

The Americans know how to do service – and to go the extra mile for every customer, every time.

Each time I sat down at a table — a diner, sports bar, or hotel restaurant — within thirty seconds, ice water appeared without me asking. Free coffee refills materialised before the cup was empty. The WiFi code was on the tabletop before I thought to look for it.

Parking is easy; most stores have plenty of spaces, and the feeling of driving up to your hotel's front door and simply handing your car keys to the valet is priceless.

The staff welcome you with a smile, give you their name, and can’t do enough – whether I was in a fancy restaurant, a street pizza stand, or a downtown pub, the service experience was world-class.

None of this is expensive. None of it is technically complicated. But the cumulative effect was powerful: I felt like they actually cared and I was valued in their business.

That feeling is worth more than almost anything else a business can offer. And most businesses – especially in Britain – chronically underinvest in it.

The Playbook

Last year, I read the book Unreasonable Hospitality by Will Guidara, and my trip brought the ideas and inspiration rushing back.

Guidara co-owned Eleven Madison Park in New York. In 2010, it came in dead last – 50th out of 50 – on the “World’s 50 Best Restaurants” list.

On the cab ride home from the event, Guidara and his chef-partner wrote a single promise on a cocktail napkin: they would reach number one.

Not by hiring better chefs or sourcing rarer ingredients. By making every guest feel more seen, more celebrated, more genuinely cared for than they had ever felt anywhere before.

By 2017, they were the number one restaurant on the planet and the story that crystallises his entire philosophy cost just $2:

Guidara overheard a table of tourists mention they hadn’t yet tried a real New York street hot dog. So he slipped out, bought one from a cart around the corner, had it plated beautifully in the kitchen, and served it between courses of Michelin-starred cuisine.

The guests were stunned. They still talk about it now, years after the experience.

That’s the gap Guidara is pointing at – the distance between technically excellent service and something that makes a person feel genuinely seen.

One earns respect. The other earns loyalty. And loyalty, compounded over years, is worth an extraordinary amount.

America gets this instinctively. And I think the reason is competition.

The American entrepreneurial market is brutal. Everyone is fighting for the same customer, often at near-identical price points. So the best operators stopped competing on price long ago. They compete on feeling.

In Boston, I walked past a dry cleaner store that collected and delivered to your door – not because it was cheaper but because it removed friction from your life. In a crowded market, that might be worth everything.

AI-proof Your Business

AI is about to make this dynamic even more pronounced in your world and mine.

When every business has access to the same tools, the same data, and the same analytical capability, the technical gap between competitors narrows dramatically.

What won’t be automated — what genuinely cannot be replicated by any model — is the experience of being known, remembered and cared for by another human being who chose to pay attention to you.

That is your moat. And right now, most businesses are leaving it completely unbuilt.

So here’s the question I’d encourage you to think about this weekend.

Not “how do I grow?” Not “how do I improve margins?” But simply this: What is your $2 hot dog?

What small, unexpected, deeply personal gesture could you offer a client that costs almost nothing but signals everything? What lives, not in a framed mission statement on your office wall, but in the real life, human experience of every single person who interacts with your business?

None of it needs to be expensive. All of it needs to be intentional.

In a world where expertise is increasingly commoditised, intention is what separates the memorable from the forgettable.

And in any business built on trust and relationships, “memorable” is the only thing that truly compounds.

So, go and find the “$2 hot dog” in your business.

Happy 4th July!

Until next time,

Alan

P.S. – I loved the story Mark Mills told on the podcast about his trip to New York and how he made one of his worst-ever business decisions. One of my favourite episodes ever – listen here.

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