Proustian Memories

Once a year, I make “Gratin of Four Onions.” It is my favorite side dish for holiday entertaining. This recipe was given to me over forty years ago by my then boss and mentor, Mary Lyons.  Now, whenever I start peeling and chopping shallots, garlic, leeks or onions my involuntary conscious memory is activated. I retrieve recollections of Mary and her invaluable contributions to my early career.  I liken my response to Mary’ dish to that of Marcel Proust’s "Madeleine" cookie experience.

Since graduate school I have subscribed whole-heartedly to the Proustian theory. We all have had these powerful moments of remembering people or events from our respective pasts which are sparked by emotional, olfactory or gustatory memories. My brain is more often than not triggered by eating a specific food.   Food, you see, is my world.

When I make Mary’s dish, I think of the knowledge and experience I gathered as her young mentee. Mary taught me the public relations profession while working as her assistant at Sopexa (Food and Wine from France) in the early 1980s.  Under her tutelage I learned how to (hopefully) write coherently, to think like a journalist, to be 100% honest in all matters, and to never over-promise. Even though the concept of formal mentoring was not as prevalent then as it is today, that’s what was happening between my boss and me back then.

It was only later when I changed jobs and joined Schieffelin & Co. (a wine and spirits importer now owned by LVMH) that I become aware of the importance of having someone help guide your career. Building on what I had learned at the hands of Mary, my first sage and trusted mentor, I came under the protection of my new boss, Margaret Stern. She was forthright with me from the get-go. She had been secretly recruited by Coca-Cola who was mounting their first foray into the wine world. They needed someone with excellent credentials such as Margaret’s to help spearhead their new business venture. Margaret had a few months to get her new hire (me) up to speed so that she could join Coco-Cola with a clear conscience.

After making sure I had the basics down on the brand portfolio we represented, Margaret went about indoctrinating me on the politics of my new company. At that time, Schieffelin & Co. was owned by a blue-blooded American family headed by the company’s President, Bill Schieffelin. He, like the other leaders in the wine world at the time—including importers, distributors and producers—were all middle-aged, white men. Margaret and I were, in a sense, female pioneers trying to penetrate their closed industry.

I was a sponge for Margaret’s intense lessons on how to maneuver a man’s business world. As her young protégée, she taught me the essentials needed to work within a complex corporate structure. Margaret instilled in me the need to be more competent than any male counterpart as a way to build my credibility. She understood this reality and made sure I knew how to properly use various business methodologies to promote our wine brands. But, even more essential, she coached me on how to appear cool, collected, and unthreatening as a female professional in a somewhat hostile all-male environment. To complicate matters even more, in most industries back in the 80s women were seen as secretaries but not managers. This was the prevailing attitude the wine world when I had decided stake claim to my future professional career as an executive.

Margaret took pride in the fact I was a quick learner. She also realized that the sooner I was up and running, the quicker she could change jobs, pursue a much greater position of responsibility at Coco-Cola, and therefore, advance her career. Margaret left and I took over.

After a successful, thirteen year career at Schieffelin & Co ending up as a Vice President of Public Relations, I started Cornerstone Communications in 1990. This was a luxury goods and wine-focused communications agency. Given all I had learned at the hands of my two mentors, Mary and Margaret, I felt it was critical now as a business to pay it forward with my new, younger employees.

My goal was to hired people, primarily women, who wanted to have my job someday. That was almost a pre-requisite to being hired although many candidates were uncomfortable in admitting this was their goal. I figured these new employees would keep me on my toes. Hopefully, they would also come to the table with a healthy amount of aggressiveness balanced with a willingness to learning the way I liked to conduct business.

But let’s be frank. As a business owner, I also appreciated the many benefits a mentor derives from their mentees. While not every employee fitted the bill of being my next mentee, many of them did. These individuals rewarded me with dedication, loyalty and exceptional work. In exchange for our mutual collaboration, they grew my business. Although we never talked about the mentoring process per se, they understood I was willing to teach them the ropes, give them opportunities for growth, and help guide their future careers in exchange for their loyalty and good work.

This two-way street suited both boss and employees. While I provided the business foundation, my young hires brought with them skills I lacked such as computer knowledge. They taught me, for example, the benefit of integrating the internet into our agency’ public relations’ services. They dazzled clients with their social media skills which kept Cornerstone Communications ahead of their competition for several years. In return, I took great pride in their work and encouraged their potential career’s growth even sometimes at the expense of my firm when they left me for other opportunities.

I hope my mentees think back with the same fondness and gratitude that I experience when I remember Mary and Margaret. I thank Mary for her many enduring lessons as well as for her divinely delicious recipe which you’ll find in this book. Naturally, I couldn’t resist a little tinkering, but this is essentially the same recipe I inherited from a great lady. 

Margaret, on the other hand, was not much of a cook. But whenever I enjoy a glass of bubbly, which I do frequently, visions of Margaret immediately spring forth. In addition to teaching me how to steer a career through the complicated world with the opposite sex, she taught me many invaluable lessons on marketing and enjoying fine champagnes. She introduced me to the company’s leading seller, Moët & Chandon, as well as to my favorite, Dom Ruinart, another in-house brand.

At the end of the day, let’s face it. A glass of Dom Ruinart’s Blanc de Blancs champagne beats Proust’s Madeleine cookie by a long shot any day. Who could argue with this?