Tim Gannon is the co-founder of Outback Steakhouse and the creator of the Bloomin' Onion, the signature appetizer that has generated over $1.4 billion in sales. His debut book, Bloomin' Adventures, tells the story of the partnerships, the risks, and the recipe behind one of the most iconic restaurant brands in American history.

A five-time U.S. Open Polo champion, Gannon sold his polo saddle for $250 just to get gas money to drive to Tampa, where he and his partners opened the first Outback in 1988. Over the next three decades, the brand grew to more than 1,400 locations across six restaurant concepts worldwide.
We spoke with the Gannon about how he decided what to include in the book, how his risks have brought him rewards, and his desire to pay it forward.
What has been the most meaningful part of the indie publishing process for you? What has been the best part of working with IngramSpark to bring this book to market?
The most meaningful part has been having complete control over how the story is told. This is my life, and I wanted it told my way, without someone filtering it through a corporate lens.
Working with IngramSpark gave me the distribution power of a major publisher without giving up that control.
Leigh Pierce and the Ingram team treated this project as their own from the very first call. They believed in the book before it had a cover, and that kind of partnership is rare.
How was your experience of the writing process and working with Don Yaeger to bring this story to life?
Don Yaeger is a master at drawing stories out of people. He has done it 13 times for the New York Times bestseller list, and he brought that same skill to my story. He helped me find the moments that mattered and turn them into something that reads the way I talk: honest, direct, and from the heart. I could not have done this without him.
Bloomin' Adventures took more than five years to complete. What was the hardest part of turning decades of memories into a coherent story?
The hardest part was deciding what to leave out. I have lived many lives in one life: restaurants, polo, business, family, loss, and reinvention. Every chapter could have been its own book. The challenge was finding the thread that connected it all: the idea that where you start does not have to determine where you finish. Once I found that thread, the rest fell into place.

Discover the risks, relationships, and lessons that shaped Tim Gannon's remarkable journey from startup risk-taker to restaurant industry icon
What made you want to write this book now?
My son Chris told me one day, "Dad, you need to put all these stories on paper." He was right. Watching him build Bolay from the ground up reminded me of my own journey. I saw him making the same sacrifices, taking the same risks, and facing the same doubts I had faced decades earlier. That is when I knew it was time.
I was a nine-year-old selling newspapers before sunrise to help my family make ends meet. I was a fifteen-year-old tying rebar in a ditch in Louisiana. I sold my saddle for $250 to fund the first Outback. If that story can show one person, especially the next generation of entrepreneurs, that their dream is closer than they think, then the five years were worth it.

Tim with his son, Chris
What did writing this book teach you about yourself that you hadn't fully realized before? Did you discover any memories that looked very different in hindsight than they did when you first lived them?
Writing this book taught me how much of my success came from people I did not fully appreciate at the time. Bud Heatley, who handed me that saddle and said: "Put it to good use." Norman Brinker, who gave me my foundation in the restaurant business. Phil Heatley, who pulled me out of that ditch and showed me a world I didn't know existed. Chris Sullivan, who believed in me when I had nothing to show for myself and trusted me to be part of the vision he and his partners were building. He gave me a seat at the table when no one else would have. When I lived those moments, I was just trying to survive. Looking back, I can see that every one of those people changed the direction of my life.
What was the biggest sacrifice or risk you made in your career, and what did that teach you?
I sold my polo saddle for $250 to cover gas money for the drive from Houston to Tampa. That saddle was a gift from Bud Heatley, and it represented everything I loved about polo. But I needed that money to bet on Outback Steakhouse, on myself, and on my partners. It taught me that sometimes the thing you love most has to be the thing you let go of to build something greater. I eventually got the saddle back, and it sits in my home today as a reminder of what it cost to get here.
What is the biggest myth people believe about entrepreneurial success?
That it happens fast. People see the Bloomin' Onion and think it was an overnight success. They do not see the years I spent working in kitchens, learning flavor, failing, getting knocked down, and getting back up. They do not see the opening night of Outback when nobody came, and I could hear the ice machine humming in an empty restaurant. Success is not a single moment. It is a thousand small decisions made correctly over a very long time.
The Bloomin' Onion became iconic. Did you know immediately that it was special, or was its success a surprise? Do you think creativity in the kitchen and creativity in business come from the same place?
I knew it had something when I discovered what I call my "Velcro," that hook that grabs people and does not let go. I had been working on flavor combinations for years, and the Bloomin' Onion was the moment everything clicked. But I did not know it would sell over a billion dollars' worth. That part was a surprise. And yes, I believe creativity in the kitchen and creativity in business come from exactly the same place: a willingness to try something nobody else has tried and a refusal to accept that something cannot be done.

Tim, and his Bloomin' Onion, with Steve Harvey
If readers take away only one lesson from this book, what do you hope it is?
That the life you dream of is within reach. It doesn't matter where you start. It matters that you start.
The right partners, the right work ethic, and the willingness to risk everything on something you believe in will take you further than talent or money ever could. I am living proof of that, and I wrote this book so others could see it too.
Is there an adventure that didn't make the book but deserves its own chapter someday?
There are more stories about King Charles and the polo matches at Sandringham that I could fill a whole book with. Ten years of playing alongside His Majesty, the private conversations, the competition, the friendships formed on that field. That chapter of my life deserves its own telling someday.

Tim with King Charles
After writing your life story, what chapter do you feel you're living right now?
The chapter about giving back. I have built companies, won championships, and traveled the world. Now I want to help others do the same. Whether it's through this book, through speaking, or through mentoring the next generation of entrepreneurs, this chapter is about paying it forward.
I want to tell you about the night we opened Outback Steakhouse.
March 15, 1988. Tampa, Florida. We had prepared for months: the menu, the decor, the staff. We painted the walls ourselves. We hung bullhorns and boomerangs and kangaroo posters. The night before opening, the four of us showed up with a six-pack of beer and finished decorating by hand.
When we opened the doors the next evening, nobody came.
The restaurant was so quiet I could hear the ice machine humming in the kitchen. We called friends. We asked them to bring people. By the end of the night, we had a handful of college students drinking at the bar. That was it.
For about a month, it stayed that way. Empty tables. Staff standing around. I fell into a depression, convinced we had made a very expensive mistake.
One evening, around 10:30, I walked out alone and went to a small pizza place on MacDill Avenue around the corner. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer, planning to quietly brood. Then I overheard the couple sitting next to me. They were talking about the Bloomin' Onion. "Oh my God," the man said to his companion. "It is the most incredible thing I have ever had. I cannot wait to tell more people about it."
I do not think I have ever smiled that wide in my life.





