Restaurant Review

For me, it’s speed limits on desolate roads. For my daughter, it’s responding to text messages. For teenagers, it’s anything and everything.

“There’s something that everyone doesn’t comply with,” said Julie Browning, co-owner with husband Steve of No Comply Foods, as I interviewed her beneath a skateboard that constituted wall art in their decidedly non-compliant restaurant. I couldn’t have invented a more appropriate backdrop for the self-described “weird punk girl” and the high school skater turned chef. Their origin story hearkens to middle school in north Jersey, where their fringy orbits overlapped enough to set them on course to reconnect again in their twenties in New York City, where Julie was working as a special education teacher and Steve as a chef in fine dining establishments.

Almost twenty years later, they offered up an hour of their rare day off (spent mostly processing paperwork and deep cleaning the kitchen) to explain how they now find themselves in Great Barrington, MA, surrounded by “No Comply” artwork from friends, LED-screen menus (more on those later), and the warm glow of a “Souperman” sign from one of Steve’s previous gigs. The funky detritus of their migration from Jersey to Brooklyn to the Berkshires describes the couple and their aesthetic.

“No Comply” is more than a name

For starters, their decor doesn’t comply with the unwritten rules of most restaurants. Hand-drawn cartoons and reclaimed furniture from the now-defunct John Andrews Restaurant in Egremont are at home in the former space of The Sweetish Baker, which they purchased and renovated with help from friends, employees, and YouTube. Polaroids of their friends and a boom box complement the Ms. Pac Man machine in the corner to lend the space a retro, hip vibe.

But this would be window dressing without an ethos to support its integrity; that’s where “No Comply” becomes so much more than a name. After years spent in fine dining and a long-term stint as the executive chef at the Prairie Whale, Steve had seen enough of the restaurant industry to know that continuing on that track was a recipe for burnout. Something needed to change, at least for him.

He loved to cook and wanted to share that love with others on both sides of the counter, but how could he do that in a way that was sustainable for everyone? In an industry that relies on an influx of young labor to replace wait staff and chefs who “age out” around thirty, what could he do to stem that tide?

Not complying with the norms of the restaurant industry

Obviously, higher wages would help, and while there are limits to what restaurateurs are able to charge for a meal, Steve’s experience in the industry uncovered several clever ways of restructuring the business model to maximize efficiency and provide better compensation for his staff … as long as he was willing to not comply with the norms of the restaurant industry.

Now to those LED signs: this is where philosophy meets function. Two of them constitute the menu, and customers order at the counter or online. No paper copies, and no telling customers you ran out of an item, because Steve can delete those at a moment’s notice. Ordering at the counter eliminates the need for wait staff, and a tight, rotating menu allows No Comply to offer a variety of dishes quickly and without the excessive food waste that constitutes a significant revenue loss for most restaurants.

Another economic reality of restaurants is that they generally have time for just a few seatings per night. If most diners show up between 5 and 8pm, that means two to three seatings, maximum, if you allow time for waiters to take orders, bus tables, bring checks, and perform all of the time-wasting tasks that may spell service and luxury to customers. But to a No Comply way of thinking, people are there for the food. If a restaurant could dial back the kowtowing of waitering altogether and allow people to bus their own tables, they could seat two or three more parties per night, and so far, that model has worked for No Comply. Instead of customers lingering for an extra hour, they tend to clear out for the next group to enjoy the experience. It’s a matter of leaning into their belief about the willingness of customers to be considerate, and having it pay off, too.

No tips. No booze.

That leads me to tipping. It’s everywhere now, but not at No Comply. The cost of labor is cooked into their prices, which are higher, but not out of line with other establishments. Just as importantly, however, no tips means no judgement about how good the food was, how well it was served, how quickly it got to your table, how nice the waiter was, how cranky the patron was, or the million other whimsical considerations that not only impact how much we spend and how much restaurant workers make, but – to take a more karmic approach – the relationship between and among people. Gratuities inherently introduce an imbalance of power between customer and worker that toxifies the interaction.

There is nothing more intoxicating to restaurants than the appeal and profit of alcohol, and – you guessed it – No Comply passes on that, too. In addition to overinflating bills and inducing prolonged loitering of customers, the presence of it invites all manner of unsavory practices and behaviors that impact the tone of a restaurant and the lives of the people who run it. Lifelong teetotalers themselves, Julie and Steve don’t necessarily make a big fuss over their abstemiousness, but they just don’t see the appeal or need to serve it.

From tête-à-tête to tasting

But the food … ah the food! That is why we’re here, right? My first tête-à-tête with Julie and Steve was a sit-down interview: they gave me the nuts and bolts of their operation while staff continued with their deep cleaning. A few weeks later, I returned without warning to sample some of their proverbial pudding, wherein the proof of their concept supposedly resides.

The space had transformed dramatically, just by lowering the lights and adding some candles. A staff of about four or five shuttled back and forth behind the counter, yet the vibe was decidedly unhurried. My girlfriend and I chatted with Julie about the offerings that Saturday night, which included Japanese sweet potato with labne, chili crisp and tahini, and roasted carrots in a cilantro chutney and queso fresco. Although we debated the grilled paneer masala, we ultimately settled on a falafel salad for her and pork and fennel meatballs for me.

I take the time to share the descriptions as much for the deliciousness of the language as to incite salivation in the reader. At first glance, I noted three distinct cuisines on the menu, covering the better part of the Middle and Far East, along with a nod to the Middle West: chili dogs. It’s as if someone had dared Steve to combine haute cuisine and street food on one menu, and in response, he flipped them the bird and plated ten items inspired by twelve countries.

One thing became apparent when I finally tasted Steve’s work. A big reason why No Comply works is that he is a culinary genius. A bath of mustard vinaigrette perfectly complemented my pork, and the falafel was perfectly fried with a slight crunch on the outside. Steve treated us to a sample of the paneer masala after all, which was a masterful blending of peas, cauliflower, tomato, and cilantro, with jalapeño roasted just enough to take the edge off while preserving some of the kick.

The cardinal rule of good cooking is sourcing clean, fresh ingredients, and Steve’s intimate connection with local farms (he returned to cooking through the fantastic Great Barrington Farm Market) continues at No Comply. Seasonal, local produce arrives at his doorstep each day, and careful purchasing allows him to make the most of whatever shows up. Steve’s ability to turn just about any ingredient into gold is like the alchemy of onions turning sweet when sauteed. The combination of his rotating, minute-to-minute menu along with this culinary sorcery allows him to minimize food waste, keep customers happy, and challenge his own creativity.

No Comply really is a different kind of restaurant model, and one whose promise could dramatically alter an industry if others are willing to sign on. I, for one, would keep an eye on it to see if they do. In the meantime, regardless of the business practices, one won’t regret stopping in for a taste of whatever is on the menu that night.

No Comply is located at 258 Stockbridge Rd. in Great Barrington, MA. Call (413) 645-3143 or visit them online at nocomplyfoods.com or on Instagram at @nocomplyfoods.