Is "safely reopening restaurants" an oxymoron?

Issue 174: Critics grapple with what "reopening" looks like, and if it's something that should be happening at all.

Hello! Welcome to Nosh Box, a lunchtime-ish food newsletter that wants to hear your voice. Today I’m bringing back our poll — join our discussion at the bottom of this newsletter about whether you’d be willing to eat on an outdoor restaurant patio at this point in the pandemic!

Read last Thursday’s dispatch: Your (partial!) Juneteenth food system guide

So by now it’s becoming clearer that “reopening” is a failing experiment.

Just take Austin, Texas, for example: After restaurants were allowed to reopen at 75% capacity (and 50% for bars), Covid-19 cases spiked to record levels last week. Several restaurants have since re-closed after staff either tested positive or came in contact with people with Covid-19, and a new county-wide order asks restaurants to scale back capacity to 25%. And until a county judge stepped in last week, Republican Gov. Greg Abbott had barred cities and counties from instituting enforceable mask orders.

Yesterday — YESTERDAY — was the largest single-day increase in Covid cases since the pandemic started, per the World Health Organization. Not only is the pandemic not over, it’s worse than it’s ever been. Florida, currently, is seeing record-high case levels that seem to stem from the state’s reopening at the beginning of May. Another early reopener, Arizona, is now seeing more than triple the new daily Covid cases since April.

Of course, one of the hardest-hit sectors was food — Covid cases spiked in meatpacking plants, migrant farmworkers were denied protective equipment, and many restaurants closed and laid off staff.

Recently, restaurant critics around the country have been writing some locally inflected version of “I dined out and it’s the same but different” as they grapple with how their cities are responding to reopening — and whether reopening was even a good idea in the first place.

Here in Boston, where outdoor dining is permitted but indoor dining has been banned till today, Globe food critic Devra First recounts her experiences dining outside at several Boston restaurants and notes the small anxieties that come with this new model:

Servers are wearing masks made from thematically appropriate fabric, adorned with life preservers and anchors. Tables are spaced to accommodate social distancing, but the sun and the umbrellas aren’t cooperating perfectly, and servers keep adjusting them: Some diners are in more sun than they’d like, others in more shade. “Can we see a menu?,” someone asks a staffer, who says, apologetically, “We cannot bring menus!” Oh yeah, that’s right. To order, we all take our phones and scan a QR code that directs browsers to La Voile’s menu.

Restaurant dining is all about touch: personal warmth, the exchange of small joys. There is no way to keep it perfectly contactless, because contact is so much of the point.

Someone brings me a Fezcal cocktail, made with mezcal, Aperol, pomegranate, and cardamom. The image of it sticks with me, a symbol of the moment: someone kindly offering a delicious, nice thing with a bare hand. It’s lovely, and I’m also gauging where his fingers land on the glass.

In St. Paul, Minnesota, The Growler food editor James Norton visited a sushi bar where, out of 26 patrons, 21 had no masks, which is truly horrifying. Gone are the days of “swim at your own risk,” it seems. Norton writes that pretending things are “normal” is directly endangering restaurant staff — akin to “firing a rifle at random in a shopping mall, which isn’t terribly far off from mingling in public without a mask.” (bolded emphasis here is mine)

“The whole mess taps into one of the most challenging things about America—and, indeed, about any culture anywhere in the world, at any time. What is legal is not necessarily moral. And when that’s the case, doing the right thing is expensive, and abusing the good of the many is easy as hell.

At the end of my meal at Yumi, I tip 40%. I’m not sure if it’s a thank you or an apology—it’s probably some of both. I’ll be back in a dining room again, I’m sure, but I don’t know when. Writing about restaurants necessitates being in them, so there’s a new normal to figure out. I’ll be wearing a mask. And I’m okay with that.”

Norton notes that the economics of an uneven reopening mean that restaurants would face a competitive disadvantage to stay closed, even if it’s the safe or morally right thing to do:

“The hard place is the current economic system, which will allocate enormous amounts of money to bail out a secret list of businesses or fund semi-functional weapons systems while starving benefits programs that could sustain the bulk of the population during a national crisis. States are being compelled to reopen without any of the safeguards that make it reasonable to do so, adding to the death toll. Because some states and cities and restaurants and shops are going back to business as usual, their competition must follow suit or go under.”

At the Phoenix New Times, Chris Malloy expands on this point in his explanation of why he is expressly avoiding dining in:

“Opening early puts an added burden on restaurants. For one, the state’s release encourages restaurants to screen employees for COVID symptoms. Screen for symptoms? That sounds like more of a doctor’s job to me. Other recommendations look to be just as onerous. For instance, how are restaurants to survive at “reduced capacity” when most could barely make payroll going full-speed-ahead in good times?”

In a conversation with fellow Seattle Times restaurant critic Bethany Jean Clement, critic Tan Vinh made an interesting point about how restaurant criticism could adapt to the new expectations being placed on restaurants — judge them for their Covid response just like any other part of service. I found this really compelling:

I think safety, more than the quality of the food, will be a priority for those who venture out. As critics, we have to start judging whether servers wear masks, enforce social distancing, disinfect not just every table and chair but every condiment bottle for every party as required. As diners, don’t expect the server to refill your water or wine glass — you might have to do it yourself. The goal in the new order is minimal contact. I think many diners will be shocked by their first table-service experience.

It reminds me of the discussion a couple years ago about how restaurant critics should adapt to the Me Too Movement — should they note accusations against a chef in the review of their restaurant? Should they even review those restaurants in the first place? Back in 2018 (throwback Monday, anyone?) Helen Rosner had a really thoughtful examination of this question at the New Yorker. Maybe it’s time to re-up that question for the Covid era.

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At Coppa in Boston a couple weeks ago, an outdoor handwashing station was available, but masks were less than universal:

(photo by Jim Davis, Boston Globe)

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So. The big question:

Is there a way to reopen safely? Depends who you ask.

Some say yes: US Foods, the distribution giant, is offering free “reopening kits” to restaurants — though, to be sure, they have a vested interest in boosting restaurant sales as it means more distro orders. The kit contains 50 disposable masks, social distancing floor arrows and stickers, posters that proclaim the restaurant’s commitment to safety, etc., plus “information on how to access all of the great tools and materials available from US Foods that will help you on your journey to reopen.” (h/t Sydney)

Plenty of restaurants, as the critics I cited above have noted, are also saying yes. They’re equipping servers with masks, using disposable or digital menus, and more (although it’s worth noting that the onus for ensuring customers wear masks is increasingly falling on restaurant staff). Eater is hosting a public conversation over Zoom with three chefs next Monday afternoon about how they’re reopening safely — looks really interesting.

And some say no. Nathaniel Muñoz, the manager and sommelier at Bar Avalon in L.A., told the L.A. Times critic Patricia Escárcega that the city has been reopening at an unsafe pace. This is putting the lives of restaurant workers in danger — and staff are facing professional consequences if they don’t comply, he says:

“Unfortunately, I have heard a number of my colleagues sharing stories of confusion, fear and intimidation. Sommeliers are being asked to surrender positions because they don’t feel comfortable serving the public just yet, servers are returning to work with two-hour notice without training or procedural guidance, and managers report a lapse of guidance from health officials.”

And he asks a… very important question: WHERE are the health inspectors in all this?

“With restaurants closed, what were these inspectors doing? Were they not planning for the reopening? They should be working closely with other government entities and departments to facilitate an industrywide standard and protocol to follow in order to ensure public safety.”

Or — maybe there’s a third option: none of the above.

“Instead of reopening society for the sake of the economy, what if we continued to work less, buy less, make less—for the sake of the planet?” asks Shayla Love in a fascinating and absolutely-worth-your-time article at Vice. She digs into why the American fetishization of endless economic growth means we’re unable to take advantage of an opportunity to sustainably “degrow”:

The pandemic, from a sustainability standpoint, offers a rare window of opportunity both for quality of life and the habitability of the planet. Rather than aiming to have the economy—and emissions—jump back up after the pandemic is over, it could be a moment to think about how to keep emissions down as we reopen and rebuild. That might involve leaving growth behind.

OK folks, let’s bring back Nosh Box Democracy!

I want to hear your opinion! Would you feel comfortable dining outside at this point in the pandemic?

For the purposes of this question, let’s assume you have all the protective measures you personally deem necessary — mask for yourself, hand sanitizer, tables six feet apart, contactless ordering and payment — though, of course, you can’t control other diners.

Vote here by clicking on your choice:

I’ll share the results here tomorrow, and in the meantime, sound off in the comments! I’d love to discuss this with you all: