From Beef Brisket to Beneficiaries: Lessons I Brought from the Kitchen to the Boardroom

by Liam Cameron

I used to worry about whether the pulled pork was too dry. Now I worry about whether a family can keep their house if something happens to Dad.

Sounds like a leap, right? But honestly, the jump from restaurateur to insurance advisor hasn’t been as wild as it might seem. Because here’s the truth: both jobs come down to one thing—serving people.

For over a decade, I co-owned and operated The Crazy Canuck, a restaurant we built from scratch. I was in that kitchen. I was behind that counter. I wiped tables, wrote menus, dealt with suppliers, and had the kinds of conversations with customers that ranged from “what’s in the maple aioli?” to “how’s your mom doing after surgery?” That’s the hospitality life. You’re in people’s stories, even if only for a few minutes.

Now, I sit at a different table, a boardroom, usually across from a small business owner who’s juggling growth, payroll, and keeping their kids fed. And I ask different questions. “If you didn’t come home tomorrow, what happens next for your family?” It's a heavier conversation, sure, but the vibe is familiar. It’s still about care. Still about service. Still about building trust, one human moment at a time.

I think the best lessons I brought over from the restaurant world to a boardroom meeting are these:

1. Show up every day like it matters.

Because in hospitality, every shift does matter. You’re only as good as your last plate. Turns out, insurance is the same, especially when your work might define someone’s financial future.

2. Keep it simple, make it personal.

Whether it’s explaining what term life means or how to split a poutine three ways, clear communication wins every time. And it helps when people feel you’re talking with them, not at them.

3. Run toward the problems, not away from them.

I once had a fridge go down in the middle of a long weekend. Insurance might not be as messy or smelly, but the stakes are higher. When a client’s unsure, emotional, or overwhelmed, my job is to run into that mess with them and help make sense of it.

People sometimes ask if I miss the restaurant. The truth is, I miss the people. But in this new role, I still get to serve. I still get to connect. And now, the impact sticks around a whole lot longer than the last bite of brisket.

If you're a business owner with a family to protect, let’s talk. Not about insurance first but about what matters most to you. The numbers and plans come later. First, we connect.

—Liam