8 Hard Truths I Learned in My First Year Running Yangon Delight

Opening Yangon Delight was one of the boldest decisions I’ve ever made. A year later, I’m still learning every single day — but here are the most important lessons that the first 12 months have taught me.

1. People Don’t Just Buy Food — They Buy Stories

Being a Burmese restaurant in a basement with no signage, I learned quickly that people come not only for the food, but for the story behind it. They want to know who you are, why you started, what you believe in. The more you share your roots, your identity, your journey — the deeper the connection. That includes stories about your team too — their growth, challenges, and how each of them contributes to what you’re building together.

That’s why I started showing my face and telling my story on social media. Not because I want to be popular — I’m naturally someone who listens more than I speak, someone who prefers to stay behind the scenes. But I’ve learned that people support people. They connect with honesty, vulnerability, and the person behind the business.

2. Good Service is More Powerful Than Perfect Food

People forgive mistakes. What they don’t forget is how you make them feel. When things go wrong — and they will — honesty, kindness, and presence matter more than perfection. Transparency builds trust.

3. There Will Be Slow Days — Don’t Panic

There are days when only a few tables are filled, and self-doubt creeps in. But consistency matters more than spikes. Show up, do the work, maintain the quality — and trust that people will come back.

4. Marketing is as Important as Your Menu

My restaurant is in a basement. We don’t even have a signage yet due to not getting the signage permit approval. And still, we were featured among Amsterdam’s top 10 restaurants in a year by Het Parool as well as one of the best South East Asian restaurants in Amsterdam by Iamsterdam. Why? Because I didn’t just rely on foot traffic. I invested in marketing — social media, Google Ads, video content, and PR. Visibility can be built if you’re willing to speak up. Yet, I am not someone who wants to get the spotlight.

5. Expect to Work Long Hours — and Spend Most of It on Salaries

Hiring isn’t just about filling shifts. It’s about building a culture. Be prepared — in a service-based business like this, a significant portion of your revenue will go toward salaries. I’ve learned to spend most of my revenue to salaries, investing in people creates stability, morale, and better service.

And in the beginning, don’t be surprised if you’re doing a lot of the work yourself. I still work long hours until a year later to cover gaps and control costs — because between high taxes, overhead, and payroll, new businesses like mine require more than just passion. They require persistence, adaptability, and sacrifice.

Also, prepare to feel alone sometimes. Your team may assume you’re making a lot of money, and that you’re squeezing them, when in reality you’re being extremely careful with every cent. That misunderstanding can be painful — but it comes with the territory of being a founder.

6. You Will Sacrifice Your Social Life

You’ll miss birthdays, weekends, spontaneous get-togethers — and yes, even dating. Your time becomes structured around service hours, staff needs, and last-minute crises. Romance and relationships often take a backseat. When you finish work at 11pm, how do you even start dating, right? Friends may not understand. But the ones who do — and stick around — are your true people.

7. It’s More Than Just Cooking

One of the hardest parts of this journey has been facing criticism — especially from within my own Burmese community. There's a persistent myth that being able to cook well is all it takes to run a restaurant. Some compare everything to home cooking — but the expectations, pressure, and systems required in a restaurant are entirely different.

At home, you can take three or four hours to make a few dishes. But in a restaurant, hungry customers don’t have that luxury. Speed, accuracy, and efficiency are everything. Mise en place (preparation and organization) is the backbone of any kitchen — and managing that takes real planning and leadership.

My food is unique — even a seemingly simple salad like Tomato Salad involves complexity that many don’t realize. That’s why I train my team intensively, using whatever resources I can find here in the Netherlands and adapt to our kitchen. I only have one chef with experience working in another kitchen — and even he never had to manage multiple responsibilities at once before.

Patience is key. Many in my kitchen aren’t fluent in English, yet all the order tickets come in English. So the very first step in training is teaching them how to translate and memorize the orders in Burmese, and understanding which station — 1 or 2 — is responsible for which item. Then comes order management — learning how to group identical orders for different tables for better efficiency. And of course, tasting the food daily is essential.

Yes, my team is great at cooking. But running a successful kitchen goes far beyond cooking — it’s about coordination, communication, timing, and consistency under pressure. That’s why it’s disheartening when these challenges are dismissed or misunderstood.

8. Cash Flow is a Constant Challenge

No matter how well you plan, cash flow will likely be one of your biggest headaches. Between high upfront costs, supplier payments, payroll, rent, taxes, and unexpected expenses, the money in your account disappears quickly. Even during good sales months, the timing of cash in vs. cash out doesn’t always match up.

I’ve learned to monitor cash flow closely, be careful with spending, and delay non-essential upgrades. In the first year, it’s not about profit — it’s about survival and setting the foundation. And that often means making tough calls and staying humble.

To anyone who’s dreaming of starting a restaurant or any business — especially as a migrant, as a woman, or as someone doing something different — these are the lessons you can expect. And I hope they give you courage.

You are not alone.

To my customers — thank you for supporting me, believing in something unfamiliar, and opening your hearts to my food and story. Every time you walk through the door, you’re helping bring Burmese culture to life in a city I now call home.

I’m not the best cook. I never claimed to be. But I’ve learned, grown, and led from the front — and I hope this journey gives courage to others like me.

To those from my own Burmese community who may be reading this — I share these lessons not to prove anything, but to build understanding. Running a restaurant takes far more than knowing how to cook. I hope one day we support each other more — not just in the kitchen, but in all the hard work that surrounds it.

Met liefde en hoop,

Thandar