this assignment does not need references , it is a case study.
Task 1.What is product mix related problem described in this case study? Imagine you are opening three branches of the restaurant in Philadelphia USA. If you keep menu the same, would this still be a problem in the USA market? (Using more than 250 words describe different dimensions of the product mix problem highlighted in the case)
Task 2.Design a new product line (for Philadelphia USA market) for this company aimed at resolving the issues you highlighted in task 1 (A diagram showing product line and prices in USA $).
Task 3.Give three action-oriented recommendations for the company in the case.Explain how your recommendations will resolve the issue you described in Task 1 (More than 500 words).
One (1) inch margin on all sides, double spaced. font size 12, Arial.
Case Study Expand the Menu? A restaurant chain seeks to broaden its appeal without losing its identity. by Sandeep Puri, Kirti Khanzode, and Alison Beard Rohit was juggling eggs. Smooth, brown ovals—in one hand or the other for a split second, and then up, up, up in the air. First there were three, then four, then five—Where are they coming from? he wondered—but he kept his arms moving and the loops going, and the crowd in front of him cheered. Where am I? Who are these people? He wanted to look around but knew he couldn’t take his eyes off the eggs. Then, suddenly, they changed into different things: a chicken leg, a courgette, a tomato, a potato, and a bag of lentils. He tried to keep juggling, but his fingers slipped on the slick chicken skin, he tossed the lentils too low and the potato too high, and everything came crashing to the ground. He looked down, but the mess wasn’t what he expected. All around him were broken eggs—dozens of them— whites and yolks oozing out through splintered shells. He woke with a start—sweaty, heart racing—and looked from side to side. To his left was Anaya, still sleeping. To his right, his nightstand and alarm clock; it was almost midnight. Rohit sank back into his pillow, breathed for a moment, and started to chuckle—quietly, so as not to wake his wife. He was the founder and CEO of Yolk-ay, a popular United Arab Emirates restaurant chain that specialized in traditional Indian egg dishes but was, as of that morning, considering expanding its menu. The dream was pretty easy to interpret. Ten Years Earlier “Dad, you have to try this.” “Try what, Vikram?” Rohit asked, putting down the Sunday paper. He’d been staring at an ad for the hotel where he worked as a bell captain, wishing that “superior service” had been listed alongside “luxury spa, five-star restaurant, and rooftop pool.” He felt underappreciated, and so did his team. At least he had the morning off. Anaya was making breakfast—egg oats upma— and it smelled delicious. “Put this in your palm and squeeze as hard as you can,” Vikram said. “Because I want yolk all over my hands?” “It won’t break. I promise.” Rohit was skeptical, but his 19-year-old son rarely initiated conversation nowadays, so he did as he was told. He squeezed—with all his might. But he couldn’t crush the egg. “See?” Vikram said. “The shape helps it withstand the pressure.” “Very interesting,” Anaya said, putting breakfast on the table. “Indeed,” Rohit said, smiling and setting the egg aside. “I miss your food, Ma,” Vikram said, mouth already full. He had started university the previous fall and was home only on weekends. “I can’t get a good upma to save my life—never mind masala omelets or egg curry. You should open a restaurant next to the dorm. Or even a handcart like the one that taxi driver in Vadodara took us to when we were visiting Dadu and Nanu last year. Remember how good those fresh omelets were? I’m telling you, there are so many Indians on campus. My friends and I would be there every day. So would the professors.” “Those egg dishes are easy,” Anaya said. “You could learn to cook them yourself. Isn’t there a kitchenette in your dorm?” “No time,” Vikram replied. “Class, cricket, parties…” His mother frowned at the last point. “And soon there will be work,” he added hastily. “I’m SA M P EE T Sandeep Puri is an associate professor at the Institute of Management Technology in Ghaziabad, India. Kirti Khanzode is an associate professor at the Institute of Management Technology in Dubai. Alison Beard is a senior editor at Harvard Business Review. HBR.ORGEXPERIENCE applying for a summer internship at Sony in Dubai Internet City. Now, there’s a place you should open a restaurant. It’s crawling with transplants from Mumbai, Chennai, Delhi, Bangalore—all in their twenties, all away from home. Everyone’s coming for the jobs, just like you and Dad did. You’d make a fortune.” Rohit hadn’t touched his eggs. He was too busy listening to his son outline the business idea that would change their lives. Five Years Earlier “We did it, Dad—three new restaurants in three months. I know you thought I was crazy when I suggested it, but we couldn’t let Tikka House and Raja Cooks steal such prime retail spots from under our noses. There will be literally hundreds of new workers moving into those areas over the next year, and we really need to be the ones increasing our supply to meet that demand.” “Did you learn that in your business school classes?” Rohit teased. He felt so proud of Vikram he thought he might burst. When they opened the first Yolk-ay restaurant, five years before, his son was a scrawny college student, welcoming customers at the door with flyers he’d printed at a local copy center. Today, armed with an MBA from the Emirates Academy of Hospitality Management—which he’d earned while working as a cashier, cook, restaurant manager, supplier liaison, and, finally, COO—he was a full-grown man and a full-fledged partner in the business. They now had five locations, including the three new ones, spread across Dubai, Abu Dhabi, a and Ras al-Khaimah, in office and residential areas with high concentrations of Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi expats. The restaurants were known throughout the Emirates for having the best egg dishes west of Okha, made with local farm-fresh ingredients, priced affordably, and always served with a smile, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Both Rohit and Vikram could recite the pitch in their sleep, they’d given it so many times to financial backers, customers, and journalists. Thanks to hit radio ads—developed by Vikram and featuring his and Rohit’s voices touting the health benefits of eggs—the father-son duo had even become minor local celebrities: expat entrepreneurs made good. Yolk-ay’s 2010 turnover had been two million dirhams. With the expansion, they hoped to double that amount this year. The restaurant they’d just opened, near the Mall of the Emirates in Al Barsha, had been packed all day. “Where to now?” Vikram asked. “Home,” Rohit said. “Your mother is waiting for me, and I’m sure Gretchen is waiting for you.” Vikram’s German-born wife of one year was pregnant with twins and due in just a few days. “I meant, which locations should we start scouting next? There is huge growth in Sharjah. Tikka House just opened there—a little too early, in my opinion—but I’ve heard rumors that both Infosys and Tata are considering moving significant numbers of employees there next year. I could put Arundhati on it.” Vikram’s college friend was working at Yolk-ay, focusing on new business development. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Vikram, but let’s make sure the new restaurants are running smoothly first. We don’t want to spread ourselves too thin. The quality has to stay the same across all our outlets. That’s what HBR’s fictionalized case studies present problems faced by leaders in real companies and offer solutions from experts. This one is based on the HBS Case Study “Raju Omlet: Expanding in the United Arab Emirates” (case no. W15515-PDF-ENG), by Kirti Khanzode and Sandeep Puri, which is available at HBR.org. we’re known for. That’s our promise to customers.” “I promise it will, Dad. I’ll see to it.” And over the next five years, he did. That Day “Dadu, Dadu.” Rohit’s grandsons rushed into his arms. They were turning five today and had asked to have a party with their preschool friends in the original Yolk-ay, in Dubai’s Al Karama. Because their birthday fell on a Monday this year, the one day of the week the restaurants were closed, Vikram had asked Rohit, and of course Rohit had agreed. The boys were the light of his life, and no matter how many Yolk-ays there were—they’d opened the eighth, in Sharjah, a year before— this was still his favorite. It felt like home, especially this morning, since Anaya was cooking in the kitchen. He’d told her he would ask the staff to come in and handle everything—his employees were like family, after all— but she’d insisted. “Your chefs might cook for every 20-something in the Emirates nowadays, but they’re not going to cook for my grandsons on their birthday,” she’d told him. Vikram was right behind the boys, carrying presents, which he set down on one of the café tables. “Are you ready for 10 more kids running around this place?” he asked. “Of course,” Rohit replied. “They’re the next generation of customers!” “At least we have an hour until they come. Does Ma need help? Ah, never mind, Gretchen is already on her way.” Indeed, Rohit’s daughter-in-law had given him a quick kiss