PANDEMIC WINNERS AND LOSERS, TO LIVE AND DINE IN L.A. AND A (BASELESS) DIRGE FOR LOS ANGELES

PANDEMIC WINNERS AND LOSERS

I have regrettably been part of more than a few conversations recently where someone nonchalantly says something along the lines of, “in this pandemic, there are winners and there are losers.” Along with the off-putting smugness that accompanies the ability to say these words out loud (because it’s mostly winners who like to talk in these terms), declaring anyone a winner in this debacle seems nonsensical.

Yet, there is some truth to it. Google “K-shaped Recovery” or the headline “A Tale of Two Pandemics” and an array of reporting will surface underscoring that in the crisis of the past year, thanks to a frothy stock and IPO market, a certain section of our society has enriched themselves to the point where their grandchildren will never want for a tuition payment, while a certain other portion—well, they have been decimated. For me, what lands an additional blow is the chilling sangfroid with which we have accepted this, with an essentially cool-headed that’s so sad.

On the topic of decimation, restaurants, in particular, have been so much on my mind. It’s important to draw a distinction between independent restaurants and chain restaurants because, in addition to lacking the resources of a corporation, independents have no lobby or representation in government. Chipotle (NYSE:CMG), for instance, is thriving like bananas; my favorite local, family-owned Mexican restaurant may not live to see another day. In Los Angeles, which is estimated to have 30,000 independent restaurants, a very respected set of restauranteurs predict that as many as 75% will close their doors. Imagine a future of only Outback Steakhouses and Red Lobsters (shuddering now).

Signs that ruin was afoot surfaced as early as April when I was gutted by Gabrielle Hamilton’s (chef and owner of a jewel of a NYC restaurant, Prune) piece in the New York Times in which she ponders the end of her 20-year run and whether there will be a future for elevated yet accessible independents. She writes (devastatingly), “I’m going to let the restaurant sleep, like the beauty she is, shallow breathing, dormant. Bills unpaid. And see what she looks like when she wakes up — so well rested, young all over again, in a city that may no longer recognize her, want her or need her.”

TO LIVE AND DINE AND L.A.

Here in Los Angeles, we are feeling a very specific pinch given our third (I have lost count) outdoor dining shut-down enacted the day before Thanksgiving. Last summer, when restaurants were first allowed to re-open here in L.A., those that could spent substantially on plexiglass dividers, heaters and PPE and on constructing outdoor patios (I’ve heard a few long-time owners say they spent in the pandemic the same amount they invested a decade or more ago to first open their restaurants). To be abruptly shut down is to see that investment wasted, and many will not be able to fund yet another re-opening. It doesn’t take a math whiz to understand that to-go and delivery is just not sustainable. At full capacity, a restaurant can make perhaps a 15% profit margin. Delivery services like Postmates, Grubhub, DoorDash, UberEats and Caviar can eat 20-25%. So just by staying open, a restaurant is meaningfully in the hole.

So why even stay open? Ask anyone at the helm of a restaurant, and, at this point, it’s really about keeping as many people paid as possible. By squeezing restaurants, we have literally crushed an entire ecosystem. In addition to living paycheck to paycheck, many restaurant employees are immigrants who have people dependent on them in their origin countries for the money they are able to send back home. Restaurant employees are also not easily employable in other industries because many do not have college degrees or specific training. And what you might consider even a mid-sized independent restaurant may have upwards of 100 people on the payroll. How many GoFundMes have you seen pop up for the employees of your favorite haunts? Behind that are real people lined up at food pantries to feed their families.

Here are some things that I think about:

• Restaurant owners are not Covid deniers—they recognize the health threat, but want to find common sense approaches to stay in business

• Restauranteurs are also the ultimate rule followers, having learned how to comply with Health Department mandates far before Covid-19

• They feel unfairly singled out—as of today, a person can go through LAX, sit shoulder-to-shoulder with someone on a multi-hour flight (and take their mask down to eat), land in a new city and then go shopping in a mall—but they cannot eat outdoors in a restaurant seated six feet apart

• L.A. Mayor Eric Garcetti is not being the mensch he purports to be—his office has failed sorely in communications to restaurant owners (they find out about closures on the news like everyone else, leaving them scrambling) and stonewalls them when they reach out for answers. This is especially frustrating when, as I mentioned, independent restaurants have no official lobby or access to government officials

What if we brought these same people—experienced restaurant operators—alongside scientists, physicians and other thought leaders to the table to form task forces to draft a way forward? By all accounts, this is not happening in a meaningful way. But if it did, I bet some smart, entrepreneurial thinking would arise. One such idea I’ve heard come from restauranteurs is rapid testing as part of every restaurant outing, a scenario in which you would arrive an hour before your reservation time, undergo a Covid test, wait in your car or a waiting area until you are cleared and then have the cost of the test added to your bill (would love to hear your thoughts on this in the Comments section—would you do it if it meant eating out vs. not?).

Yes, the vaccine provides hope. But all the experts are quick to say that it will not be as simple as switching the lights back on. It will be a rolling recovery, and we might even expect continued rolling shut downs of restaurants as well. As it is, any new restaurant sputters to life before it turns a profit (if it’s lucky); the timeline of becoming a real business can take upwards of a year. It could be a very long time before we enjoy any semblance of the restaurant vitality we had before 2020, and it will take a lot of money (are you there, pandemic winners?).

What to do in the meantime? Order take-out (and the sweetly-packaged to-go cocktails, sauce, pasta, t-shirts, cookies, gift cards…whatever your favorite restaurant has on offer) and, if possible, pick it up yourself or use ChowNow (a lower priced service) to avoid the pound of flesh that goes to delivery services.

A (BASELESS) DIRGE FOR LOS ANGELES

Many detractors have taken this opportunity to lob the old canard that Los Angeles is over, everyone’s leaving (for Austin, Nashville, Missoula…), the city is dead. I don’t buy it for half a second. The city has long been a magnet for haters. As a kid, I vividly remember visiting relatives from overseas strongly professing their preference for “Frisco” (mostly cringey because of the use of the word “Frisco”). When I left L.A. for college, the potshots got far more acerbic with people calling L.A. “Inferior California.” To some extent, I get it. This city is cocky about its glamor. It makes itself hard to know, too sprawling, lots of fluff and gloss, no city center, definition, or antiquity. But there’s no denying this city’s unique magic. There is no place like it on earth, a literal and figurative dream factory. To me, its open fault lines make anything possible.

There’s no doubt we need new thinking, a fresh kick in the pants, to lead us out of the pandemic. In the vein of entrepreneur and former presidential candidate Andrew Yang running for NYC mayor, I’ve heard mall and hotel owner Rick Caruso’s name batted about as a candidate for the 2022 L.A. mayor race. If he were to run, I’d have to learn a lot more about his platform, but the concept is interesting—he is a non-career politician, someone who has kept his businesses afloat through the pandemic and who knows what it is like to fight for every margin point (although close your eyes and the mind conjures a plethora of Caruso signature dancing fountains and Disney-esque double-decker trolleys running through the city, which, of course, would make us look like the giant outdoor mall that the non-fans already think we are…ALL ABOARD!).

Whatever it looks like, L.A.—I’m here for it.

Xo -P

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