EdMOND “Jean Luc” Kleefield is a man deserving of more than one name. After meeting him this past February, I began to think he should be more than one person.

We meet at his JLX Bistro in Sag Harbor on a frigid Saturday afternoon. When he arrives, he greets me like an old friend, and there are handshakes for his staff. The room comes alive around him.

It’s just this sort of attention and intimacy with which Jean Luc has opened three distinct restaurants in under five years, with another on the way. How does he do it? In a word, constantly.

The restaurant begins to fill, no small feat in the dead of winter on the East End, and he tells me his story. “I had a young midlife crisis—at 29. I didn’t want to work for Daddy’s law firm anymore.” So with no experience, he decided to open a restaurant, and set out with “a virtual business plan.”

Jean Luc’s opened in Manhattan during the winter of 2002 just after September 11th when restaurant goers stopped going. He opened a French bistro when it was popular to hate the French. Regardless, Jean Luc’s was a huge success.

Not long after Jean Luc’s hit the scene, he opened JL East in East Hampton. “East Hampton needed something upscale so I got a little eccentric. We dropped a giant fish tank in the middle.” He also brought out a crack NYC staff and JL East erupted in July of 2003.

“When JL East was done, I was finished,” he recalls. “I looked at the matchbook and Jean Luc’s was on one side and JL East was on the other. It was perfect.” He takes a moment to admire the lamb sandwich a woman at the next table has ordered. “That looks great,” he says. It’s a legitimate statement, it does look great; you can see it on the woman’s face. “She’s the owner,” he lies, referring to me. “Well, it’s excellent,” she tells me.

Around us, JLX Bistro is hosting a nice crowd—business meetings, couples in black turtlenecks, and a bar full of European boys watching soccer on the flat screen. “Sag Harbor needed a place like this,” Jean Luc says. Even though he is a business owner, he seems to really want what’s best for the town.

Jean Luc grew up in New York City. He’s best known as Jean Luc, or JL, the middle name he started using in high school when he was promoting parties. His mother—and his rabbi—still call him Eddie. And a relationship? “I have someone special and close to my heart,” he says, but beyond that he keeps his private life private.

We hit Candy and Flowers for something sweet. They know JL here, pointing him in the direction of his favorite—malted milk balls. By the time we leave, we’re surrounded by store employees chatting about candy, the weather—he’s a magnet for good energy and conversation.

And now another restaurant is in the works. Madame Tong’s at the JL Beach Club in Southampton. “No clones, no franchises, I don’t want to offer that.” So what can we expect? “Authentic Chinese, exquisite sushi, and interesting steak preparations.” He showed me the plans and painted a picture of how his party will look every night—including an actual pool inside the restaurant to create “a calming sushi environment.”

Meanwhile, the matchbook has graduated into a matchbox—three sides now sporting the names of his three established bistros. If a fourth is added, there won’t even be room left for a place to strike.