What is impossible?

Jay Ashton, Canada's Restaurant Guy

It’s a word we hear all the time when we talk about dreams. About ideas. About people. About what can or can’t be done. But in the hospitality industry, you don’t hear that word very often. Not because the challenges aren’t there—they are. They’re big, they’re messy, and they show up every day. But because in restaurants, hotels, kitchens, bars, and all the moments in between, impossible just doesn’t get much airtime.

Chefs don’t walk into a kitchen thinking they can’t create something new with the same ten ingredients they’ve had for months. Restaurateurs don’t open the doors each day thinking, “Today might be the day we can’t make it work.” Servers don’t smile through back-to-back tables because they think it’s easy. They do it because it’s worth it. Because even when something feels impossible, our industry shows up.

And I’ve been told it myself.

Over the past 35 years in this business, I’ve had people tell me what couldn’t be done. That building something new, something different, wasn’t going to work. That bringing big ideas to life across hundreds of kitchens, cities, and markets wasn’t realistic. That the industry didn’t need another coach or consultant, that restaurants wouldn't change, or that innovation was too hard to scale.

But here’s the thing: impossible is just a word.

It’s not a wall. It’s not a finish line. It’s not a red light. It’s a pause. It’s a challenge. It’s the start of a story that hasn’t been told yet.

The Reality of Action

When you’re down, when you’re short-staffed, when you’re behind on prep, behind on bills, behind on sleep—that’s when impossible knocks. That’s when people start to doubt, start to lose their footing. But it’s also when action matters most.

In this business, action is everything. Not just planning or vision or strategy—though those are part of it—but the doing. The rolling up your sleeves, showing up when you’re tired, trying again after a bad week, helping your team through the hard shifts, and finding the spark when things feel dry.

Action is what turns impossible into movement.

And I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. With Sysco, I’ve helped build some of the biggest support programs in the country—programs that didn’t exist before someone said, “Let’s do this.” We’ve brought new thinking, new coaching, and new belief systems to the way restaurants grow. We didn’t have a perfectly paved highway to get there. We paved it as we went.

And that’s where the real beauty lies.

The Road Isn’t Paved. It’s Built.

Too often, we’re taught that success should look like a clean path. You get an idea, you build it, it works. But anyone who’s worked in hospitality knows that’s just not real.

The road isn’t paved. It’s gravel and mud and snow and ice and sometimes fire. It’s early mornings and late nights and one too many missed family dinners. It’s a parking lot turned into a prep station and a loading dock that doubles as a break room.

But every time you take another step, you lay another stone. You carve something out. You make something stick.

I’ve watched chefs turn tiny kitchens into tasting rooms that rival Michelin stars. I’ve seen operators take a dream written on a napkin and turn it into a community staple. I’ve worked with people who had no budget, no help, and no roadmap—just a fire inside and the grit to get up every day and try again.

That’s how we do it. Not because we have to, but because deep down we want to.

Impossible Builds You

Let’s be honest—impossible isn’t just an external word. Sometimes we whisper it to ourselves.

“I can’t do this anymore.” “There’s no way to turn this around.” “This is too big for me.”

But hospitality has a funny way of answering back.

It reminds you that you’ve done harder things. That you’ve made magic out of mess. That you’ve faced burnout and bounced back. That you’ve stood shoulder to shoulder with your team when everything else was crumbling. That every impossible moment you’ve ever survived has added another layer to who you are now.

And that, my friend, is power.

Because the truth is, impossible doesn’t break you. It builds you. It sharpens your thinking. It thickens your skin. It stretches your vision. And when you come out on the other side, you're no longer the same operator or chef or server or GM—you’re better. Stronger. Wiser.

You’ve been tested, and you’ve passed.

A Different Kind of Victory

The wins in hospitality are rarely posted on social media. They’re not always flashy.

Sometimes it’s the dishwasher who finally got the recognition they deserved. Sometimes it’s the couple who keeps coming back every week because they feel seen. Sometimes it’s the staff meal after a long night where nobody talks, just eats and breathes.

These are the victories that matter.

And none of them happen without someone saying, “I’m not stopping here.”

The impossible becomes your reason, not your excuse.

Creating Something Bigger

At Sysco, and through the work I’ve done with Canada’s Restaurant Guy, I’ve never been content with business as usual. I believe restaurants deserve more. Operators deserve more.

And I believe the people in this industry aren’t just here to work—they’re here to build legacies.

That’s what drives me every day. Not to make things easier, but to make things possible. To walk alongside operators and help them pave their own roads, with their own values, on their own terms.

It’s not always a clean process. Sometimes it’s a full restart. Sometimes it’s getting through the month. Sometimes it’s redesigning a menu to survive rising costs or rethinking your whole service model. But every single time, it starts with one thought:

“What if this isn’t impossible after all?”

The Real Truth

We don’t talk about it enough, but this industry saves people.

It saved me.

It gave me a place to belong when I was figuring out who I was. It taught me how to show up. How to lead. How to fight for something. It gave me family, mentors, purpose, and a reason to push.

And it will keep saving people—as long as we remind them that impossible doesn’t get the last word.

So What Do You Do With Impossible?

You greet it. You learn from it. You walk right through it.

Because impossible isn’t the end. It’s just the start of a better story. One you’ll tell others someday when they’re standing where you stood.

And you’ll tell them, “Yeah, I’ve been there. You can do this. Let’s pave this road together.”

Because hospitality? It thrives on impossible. And so do we.