Robin Sieger Blog

Having five sisters meant I spent more time in the kitchen as a young boy than my peers, much of the time trying to get in and help my mother bake a cake. However cake baking never interested me as much as licking the bowl clean afterwards.

To every goal in life there are four parts:

Creation

You have to create in your mind the object of your desire, you have to be able to see it and associate strong positive emotions to go with it.

Preparation

Time spent in preparation is time saved in action.

Taking Action

Doesn’t matter how thoroughly you prepare, if you do not take action, then nothing will happen.

Learning

Once action is taken you will learn if it was the right or wrong action, and you can use this information when creating the next time.

Most people I know don’t cook with a great deal of forethought, they are more intuitive or stick with what they know and like. I am sure most of us can cook at least one dish. Some of us may have three or four signature dishes. We have friends around and prepare without too much thought one of our dishes. We have stopped learning, we have stopped creating, we are in our comfort zone, doing what we know, without risking much.

I think life has more to offer us than any dish we will ever eat (with the possible exception of some chocolate cheesecake I had in Vienna once). So we need to Create, Prepare, Act and Learn, because then, and only then do our horizons spread in front of us.

Now 40 years later, I have decided to start learning to bake cakes, not because I plan to open a cake shop, or make my friends think I am having a mid-life crisis, but because I miss licking the bowl, always the best part of the deal for me.

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I went skiing in France for a few days recently and the weather was the best I have experienced in 25 years. Crisp blue skies, excellent snow, small queues at the lifts and wonderful food.

On the third day I had a conference call with a client, so my companions headed off before me. At about 09.30 I headed off to the slopes, and as I got to the exit of the hotel, I remembered I had not put any suncream on my face, and that my back up tube was not in my jacket. Mmm, I thought to myself (the words which precede many avoidable mishaps).

As I stood in the lobby of the hotel, kitted up, and ready to go, I knew deep down, that if I didn’t get suncream on my face I ran a high risk of getting a little burnt. I should point out getting a little burnt was as it turns out the biggest understatement since Noah said “It looks like rain”. However, in about seven one thousandths of a second, I had convinced myself 'just this once', and I internally uttered the fateful words, “Ah it’ll be fine”. I even convinced myself this boost of UV would turn my complexion a matinee idol shade of nutty brown. Because of the wind and cold air temperatures, I didn’t feel a thing, so I never felt hot.

I met my friends at lunch and continued to soak up the rays. I forgot to borrow some suncream (well I didn’t forget, the truth was I felt fine) and continued as I had started. In fact I convinced myself that I probably didn’t need to use suncream ever again.

As a child my parents taught me never to point at someone who was different, so I never did, be it an enormous person, a facially disfigured person, a disabled child with callipers from polio, a homeless person; I was taught to respect the dignity of others, and I have done my very best to continue that essential lesson from childhood. Alas however I don’t think this current generation of young children have been taught it, as I became acutely aware that children were staring at me. Some pointed whilst nudging their parents to get their attention too.

I put it down to a combination of charisma and a perfect tan. Unfortunately reality has a habit of jumping up and biting us when we least expect it, in my case it came in the form of a mirror in the elevator in the hotel.

I was redder than a New England lobster at a clam bake. I had invented (single handedly) a new shade of red – ‘nuclear burn’. I was a livid shade of scarlet.

Well after sympathetic looks of condolences, I have in the past five days shed many layers of skin and look about 17 (OK, OK that bit’s not true), but it will be a few weeks before I stop looking like I am a 20 year alcoholic who is blushing after being the creator of an embarrassing incident.

The lesson always deal with facts, and not convenient opinions based of laziness, because that’s when we make bad choices.

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I got my haircut today, which is not high on the list of editors 'must have stories', but it is an oasis of reality for me. If you have heard me speak at a conference you may have seen me put up a slide and ask a member of the audience the big question, "Who cuts your hair?"

About 90% of the audience can tell me the name of the person, because they go to the same person, as much as possible. I use it as a way to illustrate loyalty versus satisfaction. Customer satisfaction is a given, not some magical ingredient that those who sell their services/products to the world at large really need to understand.

I go to Jimmy Campbell in the Clapham area of London, and I never fail to be made feel as though I am coming home, and have been sorely missed. Most of the staff ask me how I am, and offers of tea, coffee or a soft drink are repeatedly made. I like Jimmy Campbell, not because he is a wonderful hairdresser, is cheap or close to my office or my home. No, it is something much, much more basic; I like Jimmy Campbell because Jimmy Campbell likes me.

Jeffrey Gitomer, America’s leading sales expert says, "All things being equal, people like to do business with people they like." and then he adds, "All things not being equal, people still prefer to do business with people they like". I couldn’t agree more. Well I guess I could, but then it would sound silly.

So today when I sat in the chair, Jimmy listened to what I had in mind, all the time knowing I would say, "The George". I should point out he claimed once when we first met that I reminded him of George Clooney. I look nothing like George Clooney, but I succumb to flattery as easily as the next person. Jimmy’s comment obviously worked because I said to him, "Well give me the kind of cut you’d give George", hence the fact that whatever cut I get is referred to as the George.

But today I didn’t say that, I told Jimmy that I would like him to do whatever he wanted, and boy oh boy did he! I should take a photograph for posterity because after I shower this evening, it will be gone for all time. He gave me an Elvis cut, with a touch of the Sopranos' mobster look. Maybe I will get used to it, but I think it was just fun between two folk who do business together. He said, "It will take you some time to train your hair to do what you want, but stick with it". I am still not sure if that was a joke. The main thing is I trust Jimmy, do your clients trust you so completely that they will let you do your stuff with the best intention of making their business or their lives, just get better and better?

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What is the worst job you have ever had? This question usually finds its best audience at a supper party or amongst a group of friends trying to out do each other with tales of diabolical jobs we had as students, when we were in the 'anything legal for cash' frame of mind.

I had some jobs, which upon reflection were none to engaging. I spent one summer up a thirty foot (triple extension) ladder, working for the railway. My job was to paint metal bridges with a coat of rustproof paint. Sometimes trains would pass alongside us (we were told that would never happen) and if you fell off, serious injury awaited you. It was dirty, dangerous work. However it was never a terrible job because the kinship of shared experience, and the black humour that pervaded every conversation, made for a great working experience. The same can be said of the various other unglamorous jobs that I took; truck driver, demolition worker, door to door salesman, and a few I would prefer to forget.

Though many of the jobs were undemanding, or unrewarding, I always found colleagues who made the jobs easier to endure. It is where I learnt the value of a pound. I also learnt the value of choice. I was a student, these jobs were always temporary, I knew I would be moving on – I was never quite sure where, but somewhere away from that current awful job.

However after college I got into regular work, in advertising and it wasn’t me. I wasn’t engaged, the profession was not what I had imagined, I thought of myself as a creative type who would spend his time thinking up slogans, it wasn’t to be. I realised any job in which you are not engaged, is boring at best and hell at worst.

This is especially true of people who find themselves in customer facing professions. I went for a bike ride the other day, then went for a hot chocolate (as I have given up my beloved caffeine). In the small café there were two girls serving, who I have seen before. They never smile, and eye contact is kept to a minimum with customers. One didn’t have to be a forensic psychiatrist to figure out these young ladies were not engaged with the job let alone the customers, everything was done mechanically, without the slightest joy.

The hot chocolate was fine, as was the piece of pie that I figured I had earned, but the sight of two people marginally happier than a wrongly imprisoned peace campaigner, was a sorry sight indeed. I even gave a big tip (and I know no one tips café staff in the suburbs of London). No joy.

I was reminded of a quote by Abe Lincoln who commented, "People are as happy as they make up their minds to be." I think the same can be said of engagement.

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At the end of this month I will be running a weekend retreat near London. There are a few places still available, and if you would like to attend, get in touch. The retreat is free; your only cost will be to stay at the venue £75 per night including dinner, bed and breakfast.

The nature of this retreat is to give some talks, have some discussion, spend some quiet time but most of all to reflect where we are and where we truly want to go, all the time creating the tools and road map to get there. It will be fun, and there will be no tree hugging, fire walking, arrow snapping, board breaking, eye gazing, or singing a variety of empowering songs especially ‘You Are the Wind Beneath My Wings’.

In addition to the above there will be (time permitting) the opportunity for anyone who would like a one to one session with me on issues where they feel I may be able to help).

Every year I spend a couple of short periods alone, reflecting on what is important to me and I have decided to invite those who wish, to join me. I do not know how many (if any) have signed up, but it will be capped at 30 max. I suspect it will be less than 10, but I will find out when I get there.

So if you want to come along, here is the essential information:

Date of retreat: 24th & 25th of March.
Venue: Latimer House, Latimer, Chesham, Buckinghamshire, HP5 1UG.

The normal rate for dinner, bed & breakfast is £188, but I have been able to secure a 24 hour rate of £75, and a day rate of £45 per person (if you wish to stay elsewhere).

Though the retreat will begin on the morning of the 24th, I would suggest if you are travelling any distance it will be better to arrive on the evening of the 23rd.

As I am charging no fees, I do not want to get caught up in the admin, so
Latimer House have agreed to take the bookings directly. Please book and pay directly with them.

Their number is 01494 545550
Quote ref: 49208 (to get the discounted rate)

Oh and bring a notebook.

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Following on from my last trip down memory lane. I got to thinking about eating more healthily, which isn’t because I am sponsored by Krispy Kreme donuts, and have to eat 12 every day as part of a contractual obligation. It is due in part to the fact that I am on the road a great deal, which means airline food (at best) and petrol station food more often than I would like.

But to eat healthily whilst on the road is demanding and the options are limited. It requires a degree of planning and I dare say saint like self control. So the other day I decided I would boil up some brown rice (the sort that has the taste and consistency of wet cardboard) season it, and then add some finely chopped vegetables, this I would take with me and eat it at dinner time (or earlier if I got very hungry).

I got the brown rice from its place of honour in the cupboard, and started to cook it, in a light vegetable stock (to give it some flavour). Once prepared I added the chopped vegetables, and let the whole thing cool. Now I may have missed my true vocation as a TV chef on some obscure afternoon lifestyle show, because in the final stages I have a habit of adding whatever I can in terms of seasoning, and doing so with a theatrical flourish, to give the impression of it being very skilful. A dash of Turmeric, some Ground Ginger, a dab of Garam Massala, a touch of Soy Sauce and a pinch of freshly Ground Nutmeg, yes indeed the dish was a prize winner.

It was a prize winner only in my imagination, as reality soon took a front seat, because as I read the ‘use by’ date on the rice packet, I discovered, that, well to put it in context it expired in the last century. December, 1999 to be exact. It had sat anonymously in the back of the cupboard. I must have bought it whilst at my old house, and brought it with me.

Use it or lose it, is the expression that came to mind. So I checked the rest of the goods in my kitchen, and suffice to say I had a great de-clutter day.

We need to take a personal inventory of stuff in our lives that have become redundant and obsolete, and let them go.

So anyway I went and bought 12 Krispy Kremes instead…………….only joking!!!

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I have five sisters and a mother who is a wizard in the kitchen. Therefore I grew up watching my Mom cook, and usually due to my excellent willingness to assist when she baked a cake I got to lick the bowl.

When I went to university I had a very limited repertoire of dishes I could cook; the usual Macaroni Cheese, Spaghetti Bolognese, and that faithful Chilli Con Carne. In the second week of my first term at university my classmate Jim invited two young ladies to his place for supper. I was also invited and immediately decided that modesty has no place when there were young girls in need of being impressed. As to the question of what should we cook, I adopted the pose of a Masterchef and gave an Oliver Hardy-ese attempt at false modesty as I announced "Oh, how about Spaghetti or maybe a little Chilli Con Carne?" I stood casually awaiting his praise at my Renaissance man like gifts in the kitchen area.

He, however looked disappointed, feigned deafness and said "I think chicken breasts stuffed with wild mushrooms and served on roast vegetables, as the main course and maybe a lemon tart for dessert". This was particularly galling for me as Jim was in the University first team for every sport he played, and just at the point where I thought I had found something that I could be better than him at, he casually demonstrates (with much humility I may add) that in the kitchen he was the real deal. To make matters worse he had no sisters and spent minimal time in the kitchen at home.

It turns out that a year earlier he had fallen deeply in love for the first time in his life, and in the process of wooing the fair maiden, to unlock the key to her heart, and as he had no money to take her to a fancy restaurant, he decided to cook her a meal. No ordinary meal, but the ‘the food of love’ he told me so he did, just that. they fell in love and all was well.

Now before you ask how he goes from teenager without a clue to the great chef, let me tell you, it was my first question too. He told me his secret, he read a book!

In fact what he said was, "if you can read you can cook".

I guess we can all read a book and learn something new, and being driven by love is certainly going to help you stick at it, especially when you have no alternative, due to lack of funds. Thirty years later Jim is still my best friend, and still a great cook, I am pleased to say that along the way I read a few books too.

We've got to keep learning or we just end up repeating, nothing wrong with that if you like the same old…same old. But if you want to grow personally and professionally, increase your knowledge, and try something new, then take a tip from Jim read a book.

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I have just finished reading a book about the Tour De France, an annual bike race that is the most physically demanding sporting event in the world. It is known around the world as the race which Lance Armstrong has won an amazing seven times, after he had overcome advanced testicular cancer. It is the stuff of sporting legend, his example and fightback has inspired millions, and I am sure will continue to do so for a long, long time to come.

As a cancer survivor myself, I share one outlook on life with others who have thought that they may die sooner than later. Which is give 100% to whatever you do no matter how humble or dull it may appear to others, time is precious and at the end of life I will have no regrets, I embrace all that life offers, and always look for the positive.

I believe our lives will not be remembered by the wealth we accumulate, or the talents we have, but by the difference we make and the moments we create for ourselves and others. My short visit to India has given me a chance to reconnect with that belief.

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I have been in India for five days now, and will be returning home in two days. During this visit I have been impressed time and time again by the industriousness of the local business people. Especially the street vendors, who sell food, trinkets, tourist gifts, cigarettes, t-shirts, coconut juice in fact anything that may find a market, someone is selling to that market. However, the marketplace is very, very competitive, and yet within two days of arriving, I had found my regular restaurant for dinner, a regular taxi driver and a regular mid afternoon beach café.

I don’t know if all these local business people read much management theory, or books on personal development, or books on how to get rich, but I do know they all knew how to engage prospective customers, and once they have become customers keep them.

Business is simple most the time; maybe sometimes in our search for the next new fad, we miss the basics, which I have seen here in abundance.

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I am off to India tomorrow, to meet my friend Patrick. He and I went to school together. After university, as would be hippies, we hitch hiked from Scotland to Sri Lanka, and on the way stayed for three weeks in Goa in India.

Patrick works for third world charities and spends much of the year in very remote places, setting up social recovery programmes for children of wars. He takes four months off every year and wanders the world. For 20 years I have promised to join him at some point only to cancel when work overtook me.

This year Pat went to India and will be returning to Goa after a break of 29 years. So I have promised to meet him for a few days. I suspect I will not recognise the place, and being an old hippy at heart, will seek out the road less travelled by the big commercial tour operators, who have taken over so much of the beach front. When Patrick and I went there 29 years ago, we buried our small travel packs in the ground, then slept on the beach for two of the three weeks we were there, I suspect age and a general softening of my hardiness will see me make a bee line for a hotel with a comfy bed and air conditioning.

I will be in Mumbai for a meeting on the 13th, if any of the readers are in Mumbai, please get in touch, and let’s try to meet up.

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