Restaurateur Keith McNally on why he regrets "almost everything"

Restaurateur Keith McNally hates New Year's Eve – he doesn't like being told to have a good time. "I don't like to be forced to enjoy myself," he said.

The "least hospitable man in hospitality," as he calls himself, is not a big smiler, either. "Inside," he explained.

It doesn't seem to have hurt. Over 40 years, he's opened some of New York City's most popular restaurants, among them The Odeon, Balthazar, and Pastis – institutions almost as well-known as some of the bold-face names that frequent them. But McNally himself has never been much of a publicity hound, even less so after suffering a stroke in 2016. "Naturally I'm a bit embarrassed to be on TV talking like this—who wouldn't be?" he said. "But it's good for me to do it, because it gets me free of my embarrassment. Actually, I'm embarrassed talking about embarrassment!"

But the British-born McNally has largely overcome his embarrassment in a new memoir, "I Regret Almost Everything." "The drawback for me with most memoirs [is], if you're not embarrassed by what you write, you've probably not spoken the truth," he said. "If you don't cringe over every word, it's not the truth."

The hardest part to write, he said, was about his suicide attempt, "because my kids. I didn't want to leave them at all."

That suicide attempt was two years after his stroke. He was found by his younger son, George. "He was supposed to not find me," McNally said. "Like most teenagers he would sleep until noon. But that day he woke up early, at 8:00 o'clock."

"You expected him to be sleeping later, he woke up early, he saw you?" I asked.

"Yeah, the bastard just woke up early and saved my life!" he laughed.

McNally might joke about it now, but the father of five was suffering with an immobile right arm (he was right-handed), back pain, and aphasia (which causes his slurred speech), and his second marriage was falling apart. But as he writes, some sobering words from a doctor made him reflect: "He said that children who lose a parent to suicide were far more likely to kill themselves than the children of parents who don't. That stopped me in my tracks."

Because he had such trouble communicating verbally after his stroke, McNally began using social media. "I was so embarrassed by my speech and the way I looked, I didn't go to my restaurants for one year," he said. "I was ashamed. But eventually I realized, nothing to be ashamed about. So, not only did I admit it wasn't a bad thing, but I went in on Instagram."

McNally went viral in 2022 with a post criticizing former late-night host James Corden for allegedly being rude to the waitstaff at Balthazar. But now, McNally confesses in his book he isn't so sure calling out Corden was fair. He wrote: "For someone who's hyperconscious of humiliation since suffering a stroke, it now seems monstrous that I didn't consider the humiliation I was subjecting Corden to. I felt like I'd hit the jackpot of a slot machine and thousands of gold coins were spilling out in front of me. That night I ended up with over 90,000 followers. I was intoxicated with self-righteousness."

"Uh-huh, it's true," McNally said. "But afterwards, I felt really bad."

Corden later apologized. But the 73-year-old McNally has continued creating a stir online. Take this recent post he wrote about his friend, ABC News' Diane Sawyer, describing a weeklong affair the two had in the 1970s. The story made news … except that it was completely made up.

I said, "Some people say, 'Listen, Keith, you know, it's really not cool for you to be sharing this.' And so, did you enjoy that back-and-forth with them?"

"Yes. Yeah, I'm afraid, I did, yeah," he laughed.

"And I wonder, do you think that the stroke – I don't know, is that, does that …"

"Say what you think," said McNally.

"Well, is it that you feel a little trapped inside of yourself?"

"No," he replied. "I've always been a little like this inside. But since my stroke, and now on the outside."

McNally grew up in the East End of London, one of four children born to Jack, a dockworker, and Joyce, a house and office cleaner. The family had little money. "I got angry inside at my parents," he said, "because we had no books in the house, no pictures on the walls. But they couldn't help it. They were working class who grew up with nothing."

McNally says he didn't eat in a restaurant until he was 17. "Most of the time, when we were on a holiday, we would go to the restaurant, they would look the prices outside, and then she'd go, 'Not for us.'"

And yet, when McNally moved to New York City in 1975 as an aspiring filmmaker, he made ends meet by working in restaurants. "I didn't eat asparagus until I came here," he said. "And the next day, I went to the doctor because the smell of my …"

"That was so pungent from eating the asparagus?" I asked.

"Yeah, I thought I was sick! So, I went to the doctor. He said, 'What'd you eat last night?'" McNally laughed.

"You know what? You gotta put that in the paperback," I said.

In 1980, McNally opened his own restaurant, The Odeon, in the neighborhood of Tribeca, in what had been a no-man's land. An immediate sensation, it established certain McNally "musts," such as the importance of having a hamburger on the menu. "I don't like hamburgers much myself," he said. "But it's a sign of snobbery not to have a hamburgers."

McNally prides himself on putting his staff above even his diners. Some of his employees have been with him for over 30 years. And ever since returning to work post-stroke, McNally has come to appreciate how they feel about him. "I had to talk to my staff and was really nervous," he said. "They were really kind. In the end, kindness is really essential."

I asked, "The stroke lifted the veil on what they thought of you?"

"Yeah, yeah," McNally laughed. "They made me feel good."

READ AN EXCERPT: "I Regret Almost Everything: A Memoir" by Keith McNally

If you or someone you know is in emotional distress or a suicidal crisis, you can reach the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline by calling or texting 988. You can also chat with the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline here.

For more information about mental health care resources and support, The National Alliance on Mental Illness HelpLine can be reached Monday through Friday, 10 a.m.–10 p.m. ET, at 1-800-950-NAMI (6264) or email [email protected].

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Story produced by Kay Lim. Editor: Carol Ross.