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How I Built This with Guy Raz · May 13, 2026

Advice Line with Steve Ells of Chipotle

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  • Overview In this episode of the Advice Line, host Guy Raz is joined by Steve Ells, fo...
  • The conversation moves from the specific challenges of each caller to broader reflect...
  • The episode's texture is practical and generous, with Ells drawing direct parallels b...
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Overview

In this episode of the Advice Line, host Guy Raz is joined by Steve Ells, founder of Chipotle, to field questions from three early-stage founders facing classic entrepreneurial dilemmas: differentiation in a crowded market, balancing mission with commercial viability, and reaching a new generation of consumers amid declining demand. The conversation moves from the specific challenges of each caller to broader reflections on brand authenticity, human connection in business, and the lessons Ells has carried from building Chipotle through his more recent ventures with Kernel and Counter Service. The episode's texture is practical and generous, with Ells drawing direct parallels between the callers' struggles and his own experiences, while also offering candid reflections on what he would have done differently.

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0:00Steve Ells on Kernel, Robots, and the Pivot to Counter Service

The episode opens with Guy Raz catching up with Steve Ells, who first appeared on the show in 2017 to tell the origin story of Chipotle—how a fine-dining chef in San Francisco started selling burritos to fund his dream restaurant, only to accidentally build a global fast-casual empire. Ells returned in 2023 to discuss Kernel, a plant-based, app-only restaurant in New York City where meals were assembled by robots. Raz asks what happened, and Ells pushes back gently on the framing: "I wouldn't say that it didn't work with Kernel. I would say though, that Kernel didn't appear to be the rocket ship that Chipotle was and I wanted another rocket ship."

After less than a year, Ells closed the two Kernel locations, spent a couple of months retooling, and opened Counter Service—a sandwich shop. The contrast, he argues, is stark. Most chain sandwich shops in the United States use mass-produced ingredients, but at Counter Service, the bread contains only four ingredients—flour, water, yeast, and salt—baked daily by artisan bakers. Meats are roasted in-house, sauces are made from scratch, fresh herbs are chopped, and citrus is squeezed daily. Ells draws a direct line to 1993, when Chipotle offered something demonstrably different from the world of fast food: "There was a big difference between the world of fast food and then what we started to offer at Chipotle."

Raz presses Ells on the role of robots, given that Kernel was built around automation. Ells clarifies that the robot arm did only two things: it picked items from a rack and placed them in the oven, then removed them when done. It was about reducing labor, not replacing cooking. "Still in our central kitchen, we have knives and cutting boards and pots and pans, and we're really cooking." He notes that the robot arm proved polarizing—some customers were fascinated, others wanted humans making their food. The pivot to Counter Service taught Ells that human interaction is critical: customers are greeted, cared for, and served by people. Automation remains in the workflow, but it's designed to improve efficiency and economics, allowing investment in higher-quality ingredients. "It's very similar to Chipotle. And so I just want to do that again."

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8:39Rebecca from Streaky Bay Distillers: Differentiation Through Place and Story

The first caller is Rebecca Smith from Streaky Bay, a tiny, remote town in South Australia. She and her partner Tony founded Streaky Bay Distillers in 2022, making small-batch gin, vodka, and whisky. Rebecca was a remote-area midwife and nurse for most of her career; after the death of her younger sister, she and her partner sought "artistic ways to process our grief," stumbled into a distilling course, and fell in love with the craft. The business is small but growing: turnover is expected to reach about $400,000 USD this year, up from $200,000 last year, with 57% from wholesale, 28% from a mobile food and cocktail van, and 14% from online sales.

Her question is direct: since 2022, there has been an explosion of small family distilleries across Australia. How does she differentiate in a crowded market? Ells asks how she currently sets herself apart. Rebecca explains that she connects her product to place: she swaps gin for local ingredients like mulberries, figs, and citrus, and uses Australian botanicals such as quandong, abalone shell, coastal daisy, and coastal rosemary. She also donates $5 per bottle of one gin to motor neurone disease research, and she hand-prints all labels using lino printing. Ells immediately praises the packaging: "These are beautiful bottles. I mean, I love the shape of the bottle that you've chosen and the design."

Ells then offers a strategic insight. He notes that the gin—with its unique, foraged botanicals—is clearly the differentiated product, while the vodka and whisky are less distinctive. He suggests focusing on what the company is "best in the world at," even if that means a narrower product line. "A brand that focuses on what they're best in the world at and has a product line that's cohesive might somehow resonate or be more impactful with customers than having, well, we have some botanicals, and then we also have a vodka and we also have a whiskey too." He draws a parallel to early Chipotle, when people told him he wasn't offering enough variety. His response was that customers could make endless combinations from a limited set of high-quality ingredients, and that focus allowed him to do a few things better than anyone else.

Raz builds on this, pointing to single-malt Scotch whiskies from remote places like Laphroaig, where the place itself becomes the brand. "Your place is Streaky Bay, right. It's the taste of that abalone shell." He suggests putting the story on the bottle—a small booklet attached to the neck that explains the foraging, the coastline, the handcrafting. Rebecca mentions saltbush, a prolific plant in arid Australia with a salty taste traditionally eaten by Aboriginal people. Raz and Ells both encourage her to consider exporting to the United States, starting with Australian bars in Los Angeles or New York. "I just went to a tequila bar in San Francisco. Every bottle is small, artisanal, Mexican brand. They had brands you've never heard of, beautiful bottles." Ells adds that a product that speaks to a place is powerful, especially when combined with hand-foraging and anti-corporate packaging. "Now I want to go to Streaky Bay."

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23:20Sri from MatZero: Balancing Mission and Commercial Markets

The second caller is Sri Holema, founder and CEO of MatZero, calling from London. Her company makes low-voltage, USB-C-powered heating mats that warm the person rather than the space. The mats come in three sizes, from a seat-sized mini to a yoga-mat-sized flagship product, and can be powered by mains, battery, or solar. Sri grew up internationally with parents in the humanitarian sector and witnessed firsthand the disparity in energy access. She studied product design and engineering in the UK, where she designed the concept for safe electrical heating, motivated both by her humanitarian background and by hating the cold British weather.

Her question is nuanced: the mats were originally intended for disaster relief and humanitarian contexts, but they are showing real traction in outdoor camping, consumer, and even healthcare markets. All of these make sense, but each requires focus, time, and resources. "When your product genuinely fits multiple markets, how do you decide where to put your focus without losing momentum and drifting away from the reason you built this in the first place?" She adds that the business is for-profit, making the balance between commercial viability and mission even trickier. The largest mat costs £295; the mini is £109.

Ells immediately sees the outdoor enthusiast market as a natural fit. He describes his own experience with battery-heated gear for skiing—heated boots, socks, gloves, and a vest—noting that people pay a lot for high-quality gear. "I think there's this really interesting way to market your product to the outdoor enthusiast who is willing to pay a lot for really good gear." He points out that many outdoor companies give back a percentage of revenue to causes, so Sri could market to enthusiasts while letting them know their purchase supports humanitarian efforts. Sri confirms that MatZero already has mats at Everest Base Camp, keeping exactly that audience warm.

Raz expands on the use cases: camping, ice fishing, hunting, disaster preparedness kits, even outdoor sporting events. He argues that it doesn't have to be one or the other. "You got to build a sustainable business. So you need to get into those places where people are going to spend the money on them. And then over time, you can have some create a program where you give them away, or maybe you bake that in where, for every 10 sold or 100 sold or 50 sold, we give one away." Once scale is achieved, the business can operate on two tracks: a for-profit side serving outdoor enthusiasts and a mission-driven side serving humanitarian needs. Sri confirms that her manufacturers are contracted to scale from samples to tens of thousands of units, all based in Europe. She also notes that the mats have built-in sensors that automatically regulate temperature, so they don't drain batteries as quickly as simpler heated gear. Ells is impressed: "Amazing technology."

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36:20John from Cantina Di Rosina: Reaching Younger Wine Drinkers in a Declining Market

The third caller is John Rarick, calling from Philadelphia but spending most of his time in Abruzzo, Italy, where he owns Cantina Di Rosina, an organic vineyard and winery. John's story is deeply personal: his mother's family were major wine producers in the 1800s and early 1900s, but after World War I and the phylloxera blight that devastated European vineyards, his grandfather abandoned the business and moved the family to New York and Philadelphia. Exactly 100 years later, John went back, bought the original house and vineyards, and replanted everything. His first year produced 500 cases; this year, he is producing 15,000 cases, with about 80% of volume in the United States, currently distributed in New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Florida.

His question is about the broader headwinds facing the wine industry. Alcohol consumption in the U.S. is declining, competition is coming from cocktails, hard seltzers, and cannabis-infused drinks, and Gen Z in particular is drinking much less. "How do I market to a generation of wine consumers to really start to cultivate that next generation that'll allow us to continue to thrive while we wait for the pendulum to swing back in our direction?"

Ells draws a parallel to Chipotle's early days. "There really wasn't a demand for what we were offering. What we were offering was very different from typical fast food. The price point was much higher." In 1993, Taco Bell's menu was categorized by 59, 79, and 99 cent items; McDonald's had a dollar menu. Chipotle had to teach customers how to order—where to walk, how to interact with servers—one customer at a time. "The way I differentiated and built the business was by developing these one-on-one relationships with our customers." He suggests that John do the same: build personal relationships, and let customers become evangelists.

Ells asks if John does a newsletter. John says yes, with an opt-in list and a monthly newsletter that he tries to keep personal. Raz jumps in with a suggestion: the newsletter should not be a branding exercise but a source of genuinely useful content—cooking tips, food pairings, tasting notes. "People know Tuscany, they know Sicily. Nobody knows about Abruzzo wines in the United States." He also suggests a creative marketing tactic: identify select NBA or NFL players and send them bottles, noting that athletes like LeBron James have embraced wine and even bought wineries. Ells adds that partnering with well-known chefs, hosting them at the property, and inviting top club members to exclusive tastings of wines still in the aging process can build deep loyalty. "I think that avoiding traditional kinds of marketing probably makes it more authentic and more desirable."

Raz acknowledges that the trend of declining alcohol consumption is real, but he argues that young people want an experience and a story. "If it's about tasting Abruzzo, you know, the terroir, the soil, the air, the salinity, whatever it is, that does work. It's not going to work right away with everybody. But it's going to work with enough people where you start to build brand awareness." John summarizes the takeaway: "Build an emotional connection with that audience and really just keep at it."

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47:43Steve Ells's Regret: The Cost of Maniacal Focus

At the end of the episode, Raz asks Ells the question he asks every returning guest: if you could go back to when you were starting Chipotle and give yourself one piece of advice, what would it be? Ells reflects that he was "so maniacally focused on the business" that he was there from morning to night for the first year without taking days off. The only days he had off were Christmas and Thanksgiving. "I would have tried to live a more balanced life. I think I was a little insular also. I was so focused, and I argued that that was contributing to the success of the business. And I think, well, maybe I missed something. Maybe it could have been even bigger had I been more balanced."

He notes that he now has a more balanced life—still working hard, but taking more time for friends, family, and reflection. Raz agrees that it's hard advice to follow when building something, but critical. The moment is brief but revealing, offering a glimpse of vulnerability from a founder who built one of the most recognizable restaurant chains in the world.

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Conclusion

What stays with the listener is the consistency of Ells's philosophy across vastly different businesses and decades. Whether advising a distiller in remote Australia, a heating-mat founder in London, or a winemaker in Abruzzo, he returns to the same principles: focus on what you can be best in the world at, build one-on-one relationships with customers, let your story and place do the marketing, and don't be afraid to be different from the dominant players in your category. His own pivot from Kernel to Counter Service reinforces that even experienced founders must iterate, learn from failure, and double down on human connection. The episode matters because it shows that the fundamentals of building a differentiated brand—authenticity, focus, personal relationships—transcend industry, geography, and era.

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Key takeaways

  • Differentiation in a crowded market comes from focus: do a few things better than anyone else, even if that means a narrower product line.
  • Place and story are powerful brand assets; a product that tastes like a specific coastline or carries a family legacy can command attention and loyalty.
  • For mission-driven businesses, the path to impact often runs through commercial markets; sell to enthusiasts who can afford the product, then use scale to fund humanitarian giving.
  • Building one-on-one customer relationships, even in a mass-market business, is how early-stage brands create evangelists and overcome lack of existing demand.
  • Newsletters and content should provide genuine value—tips, stories, education—rather than serve as pure branding or promotion.
  • In declining markets, focus on the segment that still cares deeply (club members, enthusiasts, adventurers) rather than trying to win over the entire generation at once.
  • Even successful founders regret sacrificing balance; maniacal focus can build a business, but a more balanced life might build a bigger one.