Since Valéry Jean-Bart told the story The Dallas Morning Journal he’s ready to leave Val’s Cheesecakes, his phone keeps blowing up. Customers say they don’t understand. Other business owners totally get it.
In a way, that’s the problem. Val’s Cheesecakes is booming, but Val isn’t. He wants to continue his sweet legacy, but he also needs some time to himself. That’s what he wants people to understand as he looks to give his business a fresh start: Cheesecake isn’t going away, but the self-care Jean-Bart has been serving Dallasites for years is now something he’s going to give himself.
In concrete terms, Bart plans to copyright his company’s logo and basic recipes, then sell the rights to a new owner who can take over Val’s permanently. That buyer hasn’t emerged yet, but Bart says progress on the copyright is well underway. Once a new owner starts baking treats, Bart will branch out into a new business, Val’s Blue Label, that won’t compete directly with Bart but will instead serve up “next-level” cheesecake experiences and extravagant decorations for private orders, parties and custom orders. The general public will only be able to get their hands on Blue Label products one day a week.
But as we chat at the counter of Val’s on Greenville Avenue, it’s clear that cheesecake isn’t the main thing on Jean-Bart’s mind these days. We’re speaking just a few hours after the Morning News The interview continued as the baker’s phone continued to blow up with messages from colleagues across the industry.
“Maya Angelou has a quote: ‘There is no greater agony than to carry an untold story,’” he recites. “I want to be able to help other people, business owners. There are a lot of business owners — and I can show you the text messages from the business owners who contacted me this morning — who are suffering in silence. They’re going through a lot. I want to help people talk about those things.”
In addition to Blue Label cheesecakes, Jean-Bart began consulting with other companies, helping them troubleshoot their offerings and avoid the pitfalls he had fallen into.
The service industry relies on its employees’ love for the well-being of others. But we don’t always reciprocate. Jean-Bart, like many others in the hospitality industry, has noticed a decline in customer patience—he calls it “grace”—since the pandemic. One customer came in as the bakery was reopening after the power outage in early June, discovered they hadn’t finished baking new cheesecakes after throwing out their spoiled stock, and got angry.
As Jean-Bart recounts: “I’ve been told, ‘You work in the service industry. You should be open seven days a week. Didn’t you choose to work in the service industry? What else do you want?’”
Well, he wants to get his life back on track. Jean-Bart has been running Val’s by himself for 12 years and he’s ready to move on. The business started as a loving tribute to his late mother; the duo would bake a cheesecake every Sunday during her mother’s four-year treatment for terminal breast cancer.
But it’s a lonely burden. “There’s not a single person in Texas who shares my DNA,” Jean-Bart says. Yes, the business is doing well. But he’s ready to take a break and rebalance his professional and personal life. “It’s physically draining. My mother, if she were here, would tell me, ‘It’s time for you to live your own life.’”
For Jean-Bart, life as a cheesecake has gradually shifted from a joy to a job, for a variety of reasons. Hiring and staffing are more difficult these days, as top workers leave the service industry and others demonstrate a lack of work ethic. Workers can be paralyzed by social media and the fear of missing out. Jean-Bart says he’s heard workers look at Instagram reels of brunches and lament that they’d rather be there. But he gets it. He’s felt the same way. “I’ve been guilty of it myself. I’m here at Val’s, I’m behind the counter. ‘It’s Sunday, a holiday! Let me out!’”
Jean-Bart says his engineering background prepared him for the bakery, but not for the kind of leadership a food company requires. He has regrets — he calls them “scars” — from his leadership years. He also regrets staying a tenant through rent increases. “After 12 years, why didn’t I get my own place where I’m not at the mercy of the Texas philosophy of landlords? Texas is a landlord state.”
Texas is a property state and Dallas is a parking lot city. Val’s Greenville Avenue location is hampered by rules that say if Val’s wants to set up tables or serve alcohol, it must have two extra parking spots. There is no room for those spots, and neighbors refuse to share. The consequences are more serious than not being able to sell red wine with the cheesecake. Val’s also can’t operate during Greenville’s block parties and parades, where alcohol flows freely.
“I can’t participate in this day that allows me to pay my annual rent,” Jean-Bart explains about the block party. “Every business here has a tent, except Val. It’s a loss of income. Why can’t Val have a tent at the block party? Because of two parking spots.”
Dallas’ ordinances create absurd paradoxes. Motorists should be encouraged to drive to serve alcohol, and more parking spaces should be provided to serve pedestrians.
There are a lot of business owners who are suffering in silence. They’re going through a lot. I want to help people talk about those things.
Valery Jean-Bart
Another lesson learned: His identity has accidentally helped create a community and a style of service within his business that isn’t always what he wants to see. As a single man, Jean-Bart has crafted a menu that’s perfect for solo diners looking to take home a slice of cheesecake. It’s not so great for a shared or communal experience.
“It’s almost like I’ve created a customer base that’s like an only child, who wants the cheesecake now,” he says. “It’s kind of a culture that I’ve built myself, and at the same time, it hurts. I think running the business alone has created things that you can just grab and go, ‘Let’s eat it now, let’s eat it now.’ If you look at our social media, it’s a one-man show, and that kind of lends itself to the customer who wants it now. It lends itself to a sense of entitlement, a lack of grace and understanding.”
It’s one of the “scars” he’d like to show other business owners what not to do. Many restaurateurs don’t think about what kind of community they’re going to create through their design, architecture and menu choices before they invest money to open their business. Or, if they do, they only think about it in very basic terms: how long they want customers to stay or what interior design trends to follow.
Jean-Bart’s example is worth citing, he says, “if I could convince a business owner to change their protocols, to change their operations, to not spend so much money. The amounts of money that some people spend just to start a business are just astronomical.”
He’s excited to turn his scars into lessons for future restaurateurs. He’s relieved, he says, that he’ll soon be able to take a break from the daily grind. If all goes according to plan, Dallas’ most beloved cheesecakes will be around for many years to come, and Val will thrive, too.
Author
Brian Reinhart
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Brian Reinhart became D magazine’s restaurant critic in 2022 after writing about restaurants for the magazine for six years. The Dallas Observer and the Dallas Morning News.
