Cheesecake Factory revenue topped $1 billion in the third quarter
Former President Barack Obama drew a defense of the Cheesecake Factory from President Trump over the weekend with a joke at an Ohio rally. “He’s got the White House looking like Saddam Hussein opened a Cheesecake Factory,” Obama said, according to The Wall Street Journal. The joke stirred debate and revived old accusations of elitism, the Journal reported, and led Trump to defend the chain as “very successful.”
In response to the backlash, Obama 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?” he asked.
The exchange has focused attention on a company the Journal describes as kitschy, gaudy and over-the-top, and one of the most successful in American casual dining. Cheesecake Factory revenues exceeded $1 billion in the third quarter of this year, and a 2026 report from market-research firm Circana identified the chain as the highest-grossing major restaurant chain by average unit volume.
The first Cheesecake Factory opened in Beverly Hills, California, in 1978 — roughly 17 months before Saddam Hussein formally cemented his grip of power over Iraq, the Journal noted. The restaurant was the bricks-and-mortar realization of a family business that had begun with founder David Overton’s mother’s cheesecake operation.
Rick McCormack, who helped design the chain’s first restaurants and joined the company full-time in 1995, credited Overton with “tuning into what mainstream America likes.” Overton’s vision, McCormack said, was a maximalism that carried through the entire customer experience — the look, the indulgent food options, 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,” McCormack said. “They complement each other, the menu and the design.”
The dining rooms pair soaring ceilings and a warm color palette with details McCormack described as “a touch of an exotic feel” — Egyptian columns, hand-plastered faux-painted walls and limestone flooring that lent “a little bit of a European touch.” Overton sometimes worried the team was “gilding the lily,” McCormack said: “So there was some restraint, believe it or not.”
The grand look was paired with accessible prices by design. “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,” McCormack said. For many customers, the chain has long occupied the upper end of casual dining, a place earmarked for special occasions, with hundreds of scratch-made menu options.
The refusal to chase trends, McCormack said, is why the design has endured. “Because we weren’t trying to be trendy, we weren’t chasing trends or trying to introduce the latest hot design style,” he said. “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 Journal reported that the brand’s unique aesthetic has made its stores resistant to the costly design overhauls that many restaurants undergo in order to keep up with modern styles.
The aesthetic has drawn admirers and copycats. McCormack said people have told him they love the design and wish they could afford it “for their jewelry store or home.” A few years ago, a New Jersey priest asked him for help updating his church in the Cheesecake Factory fashion. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it was ever implemented,” McCormack said.
Writing in The Wall Street Journal, columnist Adam Chandler called the chain “a North Star stuffed in an egg roll” — “an entity that demolishes traditional cultural standards,” from incongruous high-end finishes and fixtures to burgers topped with fried macaroni and cheese balls and cheddar sauce.