The company built a juggernaut by 'tuning into what mainstream America likes,' its longtime designer says
By Adam Chandler
There are few cultural institutions that Americans seem to agree on these days. The late Dolly Parton. The wholesale excess of Costco. And, if recent events are any indication, the Cheesecake Factory, in all its grand and zany glory.
That's why former President Barack Obama's remarks about President Trump at a rally in Ohio over the weekend -- "he's got the White House looking like Saddam Hussein opened a Cheesecake Factory" -- stirred so much debate and strong emotion. Yes, the chain is kitschy, gaudy and over-the-top. Yes, it transcends the constraints of both diet and design. That's why it's such a juggernaut.
"There are many components to make a restaurant as successful as Cheesecake Factory," said Rick McCormack, who helped design the chain's first restaurants, who credits founder David Overton for "tuning into what mainstream America likes." Those instincts helped make it the highest-grossing major restaurant chain by average unit volume, according to a 2026 report from market-research firm Circana. Cheesecake Factory revenues exceeded $1 billion in the third quarter of this year.
The first Cheesecake Factory opened in Beverly Hills, Calif., in 1978, roughly 17 months before Saddam Hussein formally cemented his grip of power over Iraq. The restaurant was the bricks-and-mortar realization of a family business that had first started with his mother's cheesecake business.
According to McCormack, Overton's vision for the restaurant involved a maximalism that carried over into the entire customer experience -- from the look, to the indulgent food options, to the portion sizes and calorie counts.
"When you look at the menu, look at the design, everything's bigger and grander, so it all worked very well together," said McCormack, who joined the company full-time in 1995. "They complement each other, the menu and the design."
Obama's joke revived old accusations of elitism and led Trump to defend the Cheesecake Factory as "very successful." In response to the backlash, the former president reaffirmed his affection for the chain at a rally in Georgia on Wednesday: "I am the father of two daughters. Do you think I could have survived their childhood without going to the Cheesecake Factory?"
Situated at the upper end of casual dining, the Cheesecake Factory, for many, has long qualified as a fancy restaurant, earmarked for special occasions.
"We wanted customers to be pleasantly surprised that they could walk into a restaurant that looked like that yet be able to afford to eat there," said McCormack. That has as much to do with the soaring ceilings of the dining rooms and warm color palette as it does with a menu that offers hundreds (yes, hundreds) of scratch-made options.
That its kitchen and its design unite so many seemingly ununitable elements is part of the magic, an abundant shorthand for America itself.
"There's a touch of an exotic feel with the Egyptian columns we did at the time," McCormack said. "The hand-plastered, faux-painted walls all gave it a little bit of a European touch. The limestone flooring we used all added to that."
There were even times when Overton worried that the two were "gilding the lily," McCormack admitted. "So there was some restraint, believe it or not."
The Cheesecake Factory is a North Star stuffed in an egg roll. It isn't cool, per se, but remains an entity that demolishes traditional cultural standards, be they incongruous high-end finishes and fixtures or burgers topped with fried macaroni and cheese balls and cheddar sauce.
"Because we weren't trying to be trendy, we weren't chasing trends or trying to introduce the latest hot design style," said McCormack. "Sure, they've done tweaks through the years, but overall, the design palette is very similar to what we were doing in the late '90s."
The brand's unique aesthetic has not only made its stores resistant to the costly design overhauls that many restaurants undergo in order to keep up with modern styles. It's also inspired admirers and copycats.
"I've had multiple people reach out to me saying how much they love the design, and how they just wish that they were able to afford it for their jewelry store or home," said McCormack.
A few years ago, McCormack was even approached by a New Jersey priest, who asked for help updating his church in the Cheesecake Factory fashion. "Unfortunately, I don't think it was ever implemented," he said.