Restaurants Post-COVID

Your heart couldn’t help but go out to restaurant owners and employees when COVID came to town. Eateries were at the top of the COVID Crunch list—so much so that we actually increased the amount of eating out we did, just to keep some familiar places afloat.

COVID continues, but its crisis seems to have abated, and with it some habits that deserve careful scrutiny.

Lettuce is green  Pre-COVID carry out was basic and rare in my house– pizza, burgers, and the occasional bucket of chicken.  COVID expanded our carry-out repertoire, and with it came tougher decisions, like soup or salad.

During COVID, the salad option almost always managed to disappoint, not because of the homemade dressings (which actually were surprisingly good, fresh, and inventive (ginger dressing, anyone?)), but because of the lettuce selection.  It took the better part of half of the quarantine to concede Iceberg lettuce was, indeed, lettuce (of course, Iceberg is a must in this classic Detroit salad), but that left another hurdle to jump.  Most of the lettuce, even when it was Romaine, wasn’t green, but rather a very faint lime, flat out white, or canary yellow.

As a home cook, I get how this happens—you’re in a hurry to get the hot course on, forget you meant to serve a salad, and pull apart half a head of lettuce at once.  But when this happens, any leaf that isn’t a true, Kermit green gets the heave-ho in my house.

The same standard should apply when professionals are involved.  Non-green lettuce has almost no flavor, and is visually unappetizing.  It’s time to put it back in the tacos (where it’s just fiber or slathered in sauce) and keep it out of the salads.

Tomatoes aren’t tomatoes  OK, this is actually a complaint that goes back about 15 years, but if we’re talking salads, GMO tomatoes designed to travel better and last longer taste like nothing.  I’m told Italy still grows a good tomato.  At some level, it’s comforting to know this—but it doesn’t make American tomatoes any more palatable.

Tipping the hostess  We have an eatery near me where, even in times of COVID, you had to go in, pick up a tray and some tongs, help yourself to your choices, and take them to the register, where an employee rang you up and referred you to a payment screen that asked how much of a tip you wanted to leave.

Um, no.  Hostesses and cashiers got a handsome reward when they had to run out of the restaurant to drop my prepackaged delivery in my trunk.  That’s over now, so anything having to do with a to-go order goes back to being part of their job, especially if I build the order myself.  Waitstaff brings me lemons for the water and times the courses, and that’s an art that’s worth something.  Everyone else, it’s part of the show.

Tipping food delivery services  They leave the food at the wrong door, or at the wrong house, or 45 minutes after it’s promised, but since you have to put the tip in when you place the order, there’s nothing you can do about a driver who could have done much better—plus, don’t they get paid through the Delivery Fee you’re already charged?  Since the food delivery folks have my text number, how about sending a follow-up text once the food is here, where I can decide on a tip once I actually have my food?  That’s what happens in restaurants—you pay for the service once you get some.  Just a thought.

Downtown Harmony

The 2-for-10 T-shirt guy
Who plays reggae music.
The Downtown Sausage King
Who lures you in for lunch
By cooking one bratwurst
During the morning coffee rush in the next truck.
Falafel on a stick        
Visors in the deepest blue
Luminescent wrist bands
That will die before dark
Are bought in broad daylight none the less.

Ducks and valleys
Chicory and Queen Anne’s Lace
Easily build a scene of serenity.
The cacophony of commerce
May seem less tranquil at first
But ketchup-smeared aprons
And cart-calloused hands
Show tales of a heart
That shows care
And provision
And pre-dawn ethics
More could value
As they do a layered sunset.

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