When you leave dinner at the three Michelin-starred Eleven Madison Park, there's one final small surprise: a jar of house-made granola. Meant to be tomorrow's breakfast, this almost insignificant part of EMP's incredible service became one of the most memorable aspects of the evening. How could some granola seemingly outshine what is one of the most sophisticated dining experiences in the world? It's a reminder that when you're in the upper echelons of fine dining, the little things matter most. We find this in golf too. An obsession with the details signals something about a course or a club; it's a calling card for a philosophy of hospitality, of a standard of excellence which permeates the day from start to finish.

If I think back to a special day of golf, it's often the kind gestures of my host, or the little touches from a club that stand out as the granola did to EMP's clients. One time in Tokyo, we spent the entire day (from sun up to sun down) with our host. This entailed breakfast, range, 9 holes, seated lunch, 9 holes, onsen, beers + dinner, and then a ride back to Tokyo. While this is, by Western measures, an extreme golf agenda, this type of hospitality was not uncommon in Japan. The culture there almost relegates golf to simply a vehicle for hospitality. You might remember one good shot or a beautiful view, but oftentimes it's a kind gesture, a friendly chat, or simply the feeling of inclusion by a club or host.

When we think about the enjoyment of time at a golf club, it's often easy to overlook the small details that end up staying with us. The ephemera of golf is an underrated aspect of where the game takes us. Often we see this memorized in a Zoom office background or, more humbly, in a pocket of our golf bag. These aren't the most important bits from a trip or an experience, but they often serve of a reminder of our generous host, or of the camaraderie felt in those rooms. That's the good stuff, and that's what lives on in our hearts.