The DPC Summit Experience I Didn’t Expect

I brought my summer intern, Mallorca, with me to the DPC Summit this year. She is a pre-med student at the University of San Diego, and although sitting through a conference with a group of doctors can be exciting, it can also be a little boring—no matter how cool we are, or think we are.

So on Friday evening, I took her out for dinner and a night on the town.

The inspiration for our night out started with me encouraging her to do a little networking. I pointed out Dr. Byron Jasper and told her, “He’s a local and an all-around great human being. You need to know him. Go introduce yourself.”

She went a step further and asked him for dinner recommendations. Great work!

He gave her four options. I only remember the one we chose: Broussard’s Restaurant and Courtyard.

From the moment we walked through the door, we were greeted warmly, complimented, and immediately made to feel like family—not simply visitors to a restaurant or strangers in a new city.

Our host walked us to our table. Soon afterward, an older gentleman stopped by to check on us and make a connection. I wasn’t even sure what his role was at first, but he reminded me of my grandfather. He shared wisdom that both Mallorca, at 20, and I—let’s just say old enough to be her mother—could appreciate on different levels.

He shared his story and asked about ours.

Then our waiter greeted us. He was a young man with a gentle spirit and a perfectly timed sense of humor. When he asked whether we wanted water, he returned with it so quickly that I had to comment.

“You did that fast!”

“I already had it waiting in case you said yes,” he replied.

That small response said so much. He was prepared. He was attentive. He had anticipated what we might need before we even asked.

When I mentioned my food allergies, he spoke with the chef and returned with options that had been carefully selected for me. We expressed interest in the turtle soup (because why not), which he raved about, so he offered to bring us a sample. He checked on us often, but never too much. We shared stories and laughs—and at some point, I even snorted.

It was truly a joy, and our meal had not even arrived yet.

The service was delightful, and the food was impeccable. But the icing on the cake wasn’t even the dessert—although the flourless chocolate cake called Chocolate Sin was fantastic.

The older gentleman, whom we later learned everyone called “Little David,” brought me a glass of wine that he had personally selected. He told us that he makes sure the young men and women working under him learn more than how to serve a meal. He wants them to develop life skills and learn how to be good people.

Many are young enough to be his grandchildren. Our waiter was just 22, while David was 67. David supported him not only as a manager and mentor, but also as a male role model to a young single father.

He was pouring into him.

Little David then introduced us to “Big Dave,” the restaurant’s manager and a New Orleans native who had returned home after living around the country, most recently in Chicago. 

Big Dave told us the story of Broussard’s and the career path that had led him there. Located at 819 Conti Street in the French Quarter, Broussard’s is one of New Orleans’ historic “Grand Dame” Creole restaurants  (a historic, highly prestigious dining establishment known for its longevity, opulent decor, and adherence to classic culinary traditions) and has been serving guests since 1920.

When Big Dave became manager, he came with a mission: to restore and revitalize the restaurant’s reputation, history, and experience.

He offered to give us a private tour. Of course, we said yes.

He showed us the original chandeliers, the courtyard, the converted horse stables, the historic wisteria, and the wine cellar filled with bottles nearly as old as I am. We were standing in the middle of history, and he brought every part of it to life. But the most meaningful thing he shared had little to do with the building.

Big Dave explained that he teaches every member of his staff—from the 22-year-old to the 67-year-old—that they are not really in the food-and-beverage business. They are in the relationship business.

Everyone who walks through the door may purchase a meal, but the real questions are: Will they feel known? Will they come back? Will they tell their friends?

I told him, “You know, what you do isn’t that different from what I do.”

He laughed and replied, “Except I make people drunk and fat, and you make them healthy.”

It was funny, but it was also a full-circle moment. Direct Primary Care is not simply about providing medical care. We are in the relationship business, too. Patients may initially come to us because they need an appointment, a prescription, an answer, or help managing a health concern. But what makes them stay—and what makes them tell others about DPC—is how they feel when they are with us.

Do they feel welcomed?

Do they feel heard?

Do they feel like someone took the time to understand their story and anticipate what they might need? (Like how the waiter overheard me talking to Mallorca about the Turtle Soup and offered a sample.)

That is what the team at Broussard’s gave us that evening. The food was impeccable, but the relationships transformed a wonderful dinner into an experience we will remember—and share with others.

The best DPC practices create that same feeling. We have the opportunity to make patients feel like more than a name on a schedule or a diagnosis in a chart. We can know their stories, anticipate their needs, and build the kind of trust that develops only through time and genuine connection.

Who knew that a night out during the DPC Summit would offer such a meaningful reminder of what matters most in this movement?

The medicine matters. The access matters. Our expertise matters.

But relationships are what bring it all to life.

An Pre-Med Student’s Perspective

If you take nothing from what I said here, please take note of this:

“The DPC Summit provides a kind of community that I haven’t seen in other areas of medicine or the workforce. Doctors who are considering taking the leap into Direct Primary Care can find real support here. It showed me that being a DPC physician is more than a career—it is a lifestyle and a mission.”

— Mallorca, pre-med student and DPCWM summer intern