The Courage to Start from Scratch
23.06.2025
Starting from scratch is never comfortable. And that’s exactly why it’s necessary.
Let me tell you a truth I never thought I’d say out loud — or write, like I’m doing now.
I’m starting from scratch.
And yes, it comes with the full package you probably know all too well…
Insecurity.
Anxiety.
That annoying voice in your head asking: "Should I really be doing this?"
Fear of not being good enough, of not managing it, of seeming too small, of not meeting expectations, of not living up to your own choices.
And I’m not talking about starting a new dish, or a new video project.
I’m talking about something that, for me, is as far out of my comfort zone as it would be for you to leave your kitchen behind for a season to become a ceramicist, woodworker, or tattoo artist.
I decided to write a weekly newsletter.
An open letter. From me, to whoever wants to read.
No video script, no camera, no editing to hide the pauses, the mistakes, the silences.
Just words, heart, and truth —
Words to honor a commitment.
Heart to expose what’s going on inside, face the criticism, and carve a path forward.
And truth to make it meaningful and aligned with a purpose — mine or of those who choose to walk with me in this new and unfamiliar journey of writing.
And I confess, maybe for the first time in my life, it feels strange to be here, dealing with this specific kind of discomfort — the familiar butterflies in the stomach.
Because even after years of creating, producing, communicating, selling, building image for others… doing this for myself, in my own words, forces me to face something we all try to avoid:
The discomfort of starting from zero.
And that’s when it hits us.
This isn’t just about me.
It’s about me, about you, and about everyone who’s realized — by force or by awareness — that what got you here isn’t necessarily what will get you to the next level.
The Invisible Danger of What Works
You know that dish you created years ago — the one that put you on the map, became your signature, pays the bills, fills the dining room?
It’s both your blessing and your prison.
This happens in any business. Product or service.
Because when you reach a point where things work, where your name holds weight, where word of mouth does the job, where demand leaves you breathless…
That’s when something dangerous is born silently in the background:
The trap of functional comfort.
That thought disguised as caution that whispers:
"Why change it? It’s working."
Cooks like me (not the pastry type…) already know the saying that fits here.
But here’s the thing life, time, and the market keep rubbing in the face of those who don’t want to see:
What works today might be exactly what drowns you tomorrow.
And I’m not just talking about the kitchen.
I’m talking about perception.
About narrative. About image.
About how the excellence you serve to those sitting at your table often loses half its strength once it steps outside.
Plates that are works of art.
Processes that are pure engineering of desire.
Experiences that are living culture.
But in the minds of clients, the media, the market…
It’s just another good — maybe great — restaurant.
Why?
Because you never had the same courage to start from scratch in building your own story
as you had when building your menu, your mise en place, your entire operation.
If You Know How to Do It on the Plate, You Know How to Do It for Your Brand
After working in gastronomy for quite a while, I can confidently say you’ve probably thrown away entire ideas — after weeks of testing — simply because they weren’t good enough.
How many times have you looked at an ingredient and thought: "There’s more depth to explore here"?
How many times have you scrapped an entire path just to find one that felt more authentic, more honest, more you?
So why, when it comes to your own narrative, your image, your perception… do the rules change?
Why is it that, when it’s time to tell your story, you settle for “It’s good enough”?
You know that blade you sharpen every single day?
Exactly.
Strategic documentary filmmaking is that.
It’s taking the blade, looking inward, slicing your story to the bone, separating the essence from the excess, and turning it into image, sound, and narrative — crafted for those who need to hear it.
It’s not a video.
It’s not content.
It’s not a marketing piece.
It’s the process of doing with your story what you already do with your plate:
Choose the best ingredients.
Do it the right way.
Test, fail, adjust — until the final result isn’t just beautiful, or functional.
It’s unforgettable.
The Excuses Are Sophisticated — But They’re Still Just Excuses
I know exactly what you’re thinking:
“Now’s not the right time.”
“The dining room’s full — there’s no time to stop.”
“Let me just finish this expansion.”
“Once I launch the new menu, I’ll think about it.”
In all these years, I’ve probably heard (almost) every excuse.
From you, from others, and from myself.
And you know what?
All of it stems from the same fear.
The fear of looking inward. Of recognizing yourself.
Of listening to yourself. Of taking a stand.
Because starting from scratch is never about a lack of skill.
It’s about being too attached to what already works.
But here’s a truth that can’t be ignored:
If you don’t control your own narrative… you become a side character in someone else’s.
And the market does not forgive those who disappear.
This Isn’t a Formula — It’s a Call
Nobody here is promising magic.
Just like there’s no shortcut to excellence in your kitchen,
there’s no shortcut here either.
There’s process.
There’s choice.
There’s decision.
What I do — and what I’ll show you on this journey starting here, now — is exactly this:
Helping those with the courage to do with their story what they already do with their menu.
To look inside. Deep.
To find what makes you you — your onliness.
To understand who you are, what you’ve built, what is non-negotiable.
And to turn that into a narrative so powerful, so honest, so undeniably yours…
that the world outside has no choice but to see it, want it, respect it.
Because at the end of the day, this isn’t about video.
It’s not about aesthetics or technique.
It’s not about another pretty post on the feed.
It’s not just about instant sales or packed dining rooms.
It’s about brand armor.
It’s about perception.
It’s about the kind of legacy you want to leave — and that no one can take away from you.
The Final Question
This is my newsletter number one.
The first dish of this new menu I’ve decided to serve.
And honestly, I don’t know if you’ll like it, if you’ll agree with it, if you’ll want to keep reading.
But I know it needed to exist.
Because if I’m asking you to have the courage to start your story from scratch…
It would be cowardly not to start mine from scratch too.
So I’ll leave you with a question I’m asking myself as I write this:
In your life, your kitchen, your business… is there something you already know, deep down, that it’s time to start from scratch?
If you want, write me back.
If not, ignore me.
But here’s one promise:
This conversation doesn’t end here.
Will you keep waiting for the perfect conditions, or will you start with what you have — in the way you can — until you get to where you want to be?
Courage is the intersection between action and fear.
A hot coffee and a present mind,
Renan.
