Your opening paragraph. The italic lede. The line that lands the reader in the room before they know it. Two sentences max.
Your first body paragraph. Where the story actually starts. The year. The room before it was yours. Who was there at the beginning. Concrete, slow, no rush.
Your second body paragraph. What you tried before this. The kitchens you cooked in, the rooms you watched run. The lessons that became the menu.
Your third body paragraph. The turning point. The moment the venue had to exist. The room you walked into and knew. Make it feel like a memory, not a strategy doc.
The room.
Your room paragraph. Describe the physical space. Door, light, seats, sound. Where the somm stands. Where the kitchen opens. What the diner sees at the doorway.
Your second room paragraph. The bench, the bar, the corner banquette. The brass fittings, the wallpaper, the candles. Concrete details build trust faster than adjectives.
The menu.
Your menu philosophy. How you decide what's on it. Seasonal, set-course, market-led. The non-negotiables and the room they earned.
Your second menu paragraph. The relationships behind the plate. The grower, the fisherman, the somm who phones you when the right Burgundy arrives.
The family.
Your family or team paragraph. Who's behind the pass. Who runs the floor. The people the regulars know by name. Names if they want to be named.
Your second team paragraph. The handover. The training. The thing you do every service to keep the standard. Three sentences.