Why San Solo

In a world saturated with ratings and reviews that attempt to normalize personal taste, most systems can only guarantee two things: visual appeal and luxuries that money can buy. A three-Michelin-star restaurant can't assure you'll love the food, but it does promise a lavish setting, rehearsed service execution, an extensive wine list (that every other high-end restaurant also has access to), and a substantial bill. A five-star hotel guarantees thread counts and marble bathrooms, not whether you'll actually want to stay there.

With advancing technology and AI, make no mistake: these rating companies will do everything possible to reduce costs and increase shareholder value. Meanwhile, corruption runs deep, just like any other industry; establishments receive accolades not for what they deliver, but for who they know. The system rewards connections and marketing budgets, not real merit.

Traditional concierge services operate from the same flawed foundation. The people making recommendations are employed to do a job, not because they've actually done what they're suggesting. They work from lists and partnerships, not personal knowledge. I go everywhere for pleasure and research. Nothing is told to me; I learn it, feel it, and do it myself.

Public opinion fares no better. The majority of travelers writing Google/TripAdvisor/Hotels.com/platform du jour reviews have poor taste and can't distinguish gimmicks from genuine quality. Consider someone who rarely experiences luxury being taken to a celebrated establishment: they're comparing this one occasion to every chain hotel or casual restaurant they've ever visited. Their opinion will be skewed by sheer novelty, leading them to either gush over basic theatrics and amenities or dismiss legitimate excellence as "overpriced and not worth it." Is that really the foundation you want for planning something meaningful for yourself and those you care about?

What these systems fundamentally can't account for is the alchemy between your preferences, the moment, and the experience itself. I've spent 20+ years learning to read between the lines: not just of menus and reservation systems, but of what creates genuine connection to a place and time.

I work with fifteen clients a month because this kind of curation requires understanding you as an individual, not as a data point in someone else's algorithm. The goal isn't to impress you with credentials; it's to craft what you want. I want to understand what makes you light up, what you avoid, and what you've never thought to ask for.