May 8, 2008 Issue                                       

©2007 The Chestnut Hill Local

Hill pioneer Paul Roller keeps rolling along after 35 years
by LEN LEAR

First of a two-part series

No one can deny that Paul Roller has a good head on his shoulders and a handsome mug, but he also has a primo selection of hand-crafted beers that have a pretty good head (and body) as well.

The restaurant business these days is a narrow ledge to walk on. “It really wears you down,” says Paul Roller of his industry, whose practitioners are under almost proctological scrutiny. It’s no wonder that a restaurant owner/chef and the current economic conditions can combine to make an explosive cocktail.

“The profit margin is so bad these days, and that’s even if you’re not doing coke,” says the acerbic Roller, 55, a distinctive local icon with his granny glasses, Amish-like silver beard and deep baritone voice. The lifelong Chestnut Hill resident, unlike most entrepreneurs, is a machine gun of candid opinions who does not first test public opinion before firing off blasts.

“Everything has a fuel surcharge now,” he explains. “For example, the goat cheese delivery guy now charges $15 for fuel. I buy five pounds at a time at $10 a pound. So instead of $50, the cost has now jumped to $65. It’s preposterous, and none of the presidential candidates is really dealing with this issue.

“People want to know why restaurant prices are what they are. Look at something as simple as flowers, which most people would never think about. I pay about $150 a week for flowers, and that’s really cheap. The guy does me a favor. Imagine what the Four Seasons or Le Bec Fin pays just for flowers. That money has to come from somewhere, just like the goat cheese fuel surcharge.

“Restaurants are not just about food; they are also about theater. With Stephen Starr restaurants, for example, you get lots more theater and lots more price. If you want to hear the Philadelphia Orchestra, you have to pay for those 110 professional musicians. I have to pay for gas and insurance and telephone and electricity, just like you, and if I can’t get that money back, then I can’t stay in business.”

Paul Roller has been called a lot worse things than fishy; sometimes he is even accused of being half-baked. He may carp too much about prices, be a “snapper” at employees and flounder around in the kitchen, and he may even experiment with new recipes just for the halibut.

Roller, who is about as recognizable a Chestnut Hill institution as the Water Tower (with an equal amount of steel), readily admits he is not exactly a doting father to his employees. “I can be very unpleasant,” he once told me. “It’s the only way you can make it in this business. When a worker does something wrong that he’s been shown over and over and over, I say, ‘I don’t want to be nasty, but you’re going to make me nasty.’

“To achieve success in this business — and in almost anything else — you have to be disciplined, and a lot of young people don’t want to hear this. For example, my son once played trombone in an all-Catholic elementary school band, but he wanted to stop doing it because it required so much practicing of the scales. I tried to tell him that only after you have mastered the basics by doing tasks over and over again will you then have the freedom and ability to be creative. It’s the same thing in the restaurant industry, but it’s a hard message to get across.

“I remember hearing the guitarist with the Jefferson Airplane play a song I had heard him play 30 years before, and it sounded better than ever. That’s what happens when you dedicate yourself to excellence. That’s why my heroes in the industry are people like Albert Breuers of the Old Guard House Inn (Gladwyne), the late Gene Gosfield of Under the Blue Moon, Johnny Lamprecht of the Blue Bell Inn, Kamol Phutlek of Nan and Georges Perrier. They show up every night and every day, and they insist on the highest standards of professionalism. They do not jump ship, like many people in this business.”

Roller grew up on Hilltop Road and attended St. Joseph’s Prep and the University of Pennsylvania, where he majored in English Literature. His late father, Charles, was a civil engineer (“I learned to be meticulous from him”), and his mom, Claire, is still going strong at 92. “My mom is a great woman but not a great cook,” said Paul. “I basically started cooking out of self-defense. My mom said she eats to live and that I live to eat.”

Roller has a secret recipe for his awesome soft-shell crab cake special (top) that will not be available for much longer, and his roasted beet salad (right) is a classic.

Like many college students, Paul began working in restaurants to earn tuition money in the early 1970s. His first job was at the city’s most popular “beatnik” coffeehouse, the Gilded Cage, that offered wonderful dishes he had never tasted before such as sauteed brook trout-stuffed mushroom caps and chicken saté. “I thought I was in heaven,” recalls Paul.

Then, Paul took some photos (a long-time hobby) for Vicky Rensen, owner of Les Ami, a classic French restaurant at 1930 Chestnut St., and in return he was given a dinner at the restaurant he otherwise would not have been able to afford. “After that dinner, I was hooked,” Paul recalls. “It’s like a disease. I started thinking about going into the restaurant business, and I could not stop myself.”

Roller then went to work for fellow Chestnut Hill resident Steve Poses, the prime accelerant of the city’s Restaurant Renaissance in the 1970s with the groundbreaking Frog and Commissary. Although he had an Ivy League degree, Paul started as a salad maker at minimum wage and continued with Poses for eight years.

In 1982 Paul opened Roller’s Restaurant in the Top of the Hill Plaza, but the space was so tiny (it’s much bigger now) that Paul had to keep some of the restaurant’s fresh produce in his mom’s home refrigerator. The desperate need for more space is one reason why he opened Roller’s Market, a gourmet food shop, next door the following year in what was formerly Higgins’ Bakery.

In 1984 he opened Flying Fish Seafood Restaurant at 8142-44 Germantown Ave., and in 1986 he opened Noodles (later renamed Roller’s Express-O) at 8341 Germantown Ave. In 2002 he closed Flying Fish for everything but private parties. In late summer of 2005, Paul sold Roller’s Restaurant and Roller’s Market to Maurice Lavasani, who reopened them as Shundeez and Shundeez Market, serving mostly Persian food. At that time Roller reopened Flying Fish for lunch and dinner as well as private parties. The downstairs room can seat 50, and the upstairs room can accommodate up to 90 for overflow dining or special events. About 40 percent of his business is catering, both off-premises and in the restaurant.

“My food really hasn’t changed that much,” said Paul. “There’s always a question in this business: do I go with my old hits, or do I want to try new dishes? I love going to a restaurant myself and trying something really different. Often I’ll say to myself, ‘That’s not what I thought it would taste like, but it’s really good.’ On the one hand, there is nothing new under the sun, but on the other hand, there are a lot of chefs out here doing amazing new things.

“The important thing is to do whatever you do really well and consistently. Make sure your flavors are robust and that they go well together. For example, I am serving tilapia with rhubarb, grapefruit and pecans. That might not sound as if they would go together, but I think they really do. (Ed. note: fabulous!) Basically, my job is to defend the world from ‘blah’ food.”