Cover 02/27/2013

"I'm not talking 5-6 cheeses," Weissman says. "My fantasy is to have like 20 or 30." They won't be cheap, of course, but he's hoping to make it a hallmark of the Rye House's craft offerings. And if he can get away with it, the only light in the seating area will be candlelight, a motif that brings us full-circle to one of the hallmarks of Le Rêve's atmospheric mythos, with a slightly earthier tone.

So how does all this jive with a man trying to make more time for his private life, a man who doesn't want to miss out on his children's formative years? While his passion has always been about the food, he also has a practical streak.

"I like cooking way more than running the business," he says, "but in the next five years or so, I see myself becoming more of a restaurateur than a full-time chef." It seems unlikely that Weissman will truly stay out of the kitchen, but he does seem to be channeling more of his creativity into developing interesting concepts and mentoring a new generation of chefs and personnel that will, no doubt, contribute to the overall diversity and sustainability of the San Antonio restaurant ecology.

"I've thought about other things that might be less intensive," he says of his desire for more personal time, "but really, this is what I know. It's what I do."

Weissman's characteristic intensity, focus, and seemingly limitless energy seem to be holding, but he's also aware of how fleeting it can all be.

"My yoga instructor really helped me understand that life is just a finite number of breaths, and you have to use them wisely," he says. For all the challenges of running a successful restaurant empire, Weissman's main struggle seems to be balancing his impulse to sustain a diverse, deep, and indelibly creative mark on the local culinary scene with maintaining a secure, loving, and engaged presence for his family. If his current track record is any indication, both his restaurants and his children are in very deft hands.