NOTES FROM BEHIND THE BAR

Leftovers for dinner, and fear on the menu.

Welcome to the final days of April! How the fuck did that happen?

Here’s a roundup of what we’re reading, thinking, and drinking this week.

WHAT WE’RE READING

Spoiler Alert: Leftovers For Dinner, by Patricia Marx for The New Yorker

I look forward to The New Yorker food issue annually (I worship at the altar of Helen Rosner), and when I recently found myself with a free half hour in the park while my kiddo napped, I speed-read as many articles as time allowed. I was unexpectedly intrigued by Marx’s gleaned dinner party narrative; I was both alarmed to learn that between 30-40% of our country’s food supply ends up in a landfill (I knew we were the leader in food waste, but I didn’t realize we were so… proficient) and thrilled to download one of the gleaning apps mentioned in the piece. Too Good To Go (along with apps like Olio, Buy Nothing, and FlashFood) pair potential food waste with people willing to risk dinner on a bag of surprise foodstuffs for short money. I immediately downloaded Too Good To Go, because surprises are hard to come by in adulthood. My first pickup is tonight, from Mineirão One Stop Mart, here in Union Square—next week, I’m hoping to snag a bag from Savenor’s or All Star, but these were sold out by the time I got hip. Will I get a bag of delicious Brazilian food, or just a haul of almost-stale bread? Only the waste stream gods know.

The Golden Age of Brutal!!!, by Aaron Ayscough in his Substack, “Not Drinking Poison”

This isn’t a new one, but I stumbled across it today while reading Aaron’s most recent newsletter (a very refreshing, natural wine “counter-propoganda” issue), and I thought it would be a good primer/refresher on the whole “Brutal!!!” project, since these labels have become the kind of natural wine scenesters that I tend to grudgingly buy for the shops because, while I respect the original significance of the project, I know they’ll be purchased largely because of the label recognition and not because anyone particularly cares about who makes them/why they exist. (I am nothing if not a little High Fidelity, what can I say?)

‘Extreme' climate blamed for world's worst wine harvest in 62 years, by Agence France-Presse for VOA

This one speaks for itself; regardless, I’ve been a little shocked at the dearth of journalism covering the frost suffered across Europe’s vineyards last week. Yet again, a mild winter and warm spring coaxed early buds from vines, making them vulnerable to the recent late frost, ruining yet another harvest before anything even had the chance to bear fruit (this happened locally in apple and peach orchards last week). Florian Lauer, a beloved German producer no stranger to extreme cold, predicts a 40% harvest loss, Henri Chauvet expects to lose the majority of this year’s fruit, and for many producers, this might be the final blow in what’s been several years’ worth of lost or reduced harvests. We’re just now receiving shipments of last year’s vintage from several estates who won’t be making wine this year—it’s an odd feeling to know what we have on hand should probably, technically double in value now, if standard market economics applied. But winemakers set the prices for their wines before the next farming season begins, so we’re in the strange position of selling something that’s suddenly more valuable because of its sad and ominous circumstances—like auctioning off the belongings of the famous and deceased.

Restaurants are still struggling—and now we have the numbers to prove it.

In the past few months, through my own (extremely unscientific, entirely anecdotal) research, I’ve reached the conclusion that nearly every independent food business I know is really (really, really) struggling. Mostly, this understanding required my own vulnerability to come to light. In the company of other small business owners, I made the decision to quit responding with the standard “Pretty good!” when asked how things are going; instead, I leaned into reality, and, “Honestly, it’s fucking brutal out here,” became the canned reply no one expected but everyone seemed to be relieved to hear.

My (again, completely dinner-party-based) research shows that nearly everyone in this industry—from dive bar owners to brewers to tasting-menu chefs—is biting their nails, pummeled by the chaotic denouement of Covid, the loss of the city’s dual-income families to wherever it is dual-income families live now, last summer’s weekend rain trend (Every. Fucking. Weekend.), debts taken on during the pandemic when the desire to survive hijacked responsible financial planning, rampant inflation, chronic staff shortages, and guest expectations that don’t necessarily align with the crises our industry is still mired in.

I wasn’t too surprised, then, when Massachusetts Restaurants United, a restaurant coalition founded during lockdown, published a recent “flash poll” of restaurant owners and managers reporting that 31% didn’t make a profit in 2023, 31.7% feel they’re one major events (one winter storm, one equipment failure) away from closing, and—perhaps most upsetting—100% “feel the general public does not have a good understanding of the struggles facing our industry.” If I had to guess (and I do, because demographic information wasn’t included with the poll’s release), I’d wager the numbers are probably higher, as the poll was only offered in English, and I’m assuming a restaurant advocacy group probably has a fairly resource-proximate audience—or at least one comprised of people who had the time to sit down and fill out a somewhat lengthy poll. [Transparency note: I am technically an MRU Board Member, though I am a delinquent one who doesn’t have time to participate in a meaningful way. I should probably step down, to be honest.]

massrestaurantsunited

A post shared by @massrestaurantsunited

Now that we have confirmation that shit is, indeed, real bad, how are we coping? Some of us are riding it out, hoping things will somehow return to pre-2020 normalcy (I’m not optimistic, personally). Some of us are leaning hard into the side hustle, figuring out more robust catering and events offerings, or trying to sell packaged pantry items to our dining room guests. Some of us have decided to have a go at being media moguls instead (lol). I think the thing that surprised me most (which probably says a lot about my chronic imposter syndrome) is that even the most seasoned restaurateurs are nervous—I never got the reassuring advice I was hoping to hear as I continually showed my belly to everyone I met. One longtime neighborhood stalwart who you’re absolutely familiar with told me that in the thirty years they’ve been in operation, they’ve never seen business so consistently down. “It’s scary,” they said.

Scary was the word of the day in almost every conversation I had, in fact. Restaurant owners—the ones who survived—are scared. Seasoned owners are scared, and new owners are scared. And if you’re thinking to yourself, “Not my neighborhood spot! I was just there! They’re doing great!” No, they’re not. Full dining rooms don’t mean what they once did, and without the ability to overhaul every operational system required to open the doors every night—from wholesale costs to lease agreements to pay structures—no one’s really sure where to go from here. In my own businesses, the answer has been to diversify (with wine classes, events, and Wild Child’s pending purchase of a retail wine license), to invest more deeply in longtime team members, and—often—to stop paying myself. (Somewhere out there is a Reddit post dragging me for “making a ton of money,” which I’ve always been tempted to reply to with a screenshot of my bank statement.)

In the midst of all this, I have to admit I’m wondering why no one is writing about it—I was hopeful when I saw the headline of a recent Eater Boston article responding to chef Will Gilson’s anxious Instagram plea asking his followers, basically, “What do you want?” but that ended up being more of a reported piece acknowledging that Gilson posted on Instagram, rather than the kind of investigative journalism treatment I wish this current clusterfuck would receive.

And so! As my (extremely New England, devastatingly Irish Catholic, perpetually serious) dad says, “If you want something done, you have to do it yourself.” (I am aware that the Napoleonic aphorism actually begins, “If you want something done right,” but I sort of appreciate the dark and frustrating hilarity derived from what should be obvious about my dad’s sentiment that somehow, in many cases, just isn’t.)

The point is, I guess I’m about to spend some time writing about the state of our industry. Apologies in advance if you’re primarily here for hot natural wine goss.

I plan to do some real research in this endeavor, so it’s likely these little attempts will come out sporadically. I’m going to start by figuring how we got here—what perfect shitstorm of Covid, bad legislation, and shifting consumer interests are making Seaport restaurants richer and basically everyone else poorer. I plan to talk to as many people as I can about their experiences, their hunches, and their plans for survival. And in what might be the final death blow to my career, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take on One Fair Wage and service fees; the salvation and destruction for the future we seek, respectively, depending on who you talk to. (A gentle spoiler alert: I don’t think either issue is as simple as anyone—including OFW—wants to believe it is. And before you start polishing your pitchforks, please know that I agree with OFW in principle, and I already run my restaurants in the manner they’re lobbying for. Just hear me out, ok?) Expect these thoughts sometime this summer, and please pray for me.

Don’t worry! Other people still work here, and they aren’t as dry and insufferable as I am, so these newsletters will still contain plenty of fun wine info, playlists, events info, etc. I’ll be sending these boring, researched pieces out separately, and they’ll be available to all subscribers (though maybe I should charge so someone makes some money around here!).

If you’ve gotten this far, it’s probably close to dinner time. Why not go out tonight, and invest in your local economy? It matters more than you know (for now).

XOXO

Lauren

P.S. If you work in/own/manage a food or bev business and have thoughts, please comment here or email me!

SPECIAL SAUCE

Finalement, here’s this week’s Special Sauce lineup! As a reminder, each of these are $22-$25 by the glass!

La Garagista’s Novello will also be BTG this week, and though no less special than those listed below, it’s a friendly price point by nature (not because we’re effectively giving it away.)

Monday: 2021 Keller Grauer Burgunder Reserve, Rheinhessen (because, alarmingly, y’all did not drink all of this yesterday)

Tuesday: NV Cousin-Leduc ‘Kiki et Romeo’ Pét Nat, Anjou

Wednesday: Ádám Kuruc from KRISTINUS, a new fave Hungarian winery, is here! Expect a board takeover moment and a good hang. 6PM-9PMish!

Thursday: 2022 La Garagista ‘Harlots & Ruffians,’ Vermont

Friday: 2022 Cati Ribot ‘Son Llebre’ Tinto, Mallorca

Saturday: 2022 Henri Chauvet ‘Rouge,’ Auvergne (Unfortunately and suddenly even more rare, as discussed above.)

Sunday: NV Maison Valette Mâcon-Chaintré Vielles Vignes, Burgundy