Think your job is less than secure? Try working as a fast-food mascot.
Groups have used petitions and newspaper ads to call for the firing of Ronald McDonald, who was getting less camera time in commercials as it was. But at least headquarters publicly reassured the clown he’d always have a place at McDonald’s headquarters to park his oversized red shoes.
Not so for the Burger King figurehead, who, rumor has it, was studying Portuguese to get in good with the new Brazilian owner. Today brought a blockbuster news report from the Miami Herald about a reimaging campaign for the Number Two burger chain. As part of the facelift, the wooden-faced King will be downgraded from everyday star to the old guy who’ll be kept on the bench for pinch-hitting situations.
The chain has realized that the King resonates too well with young blue-collar males, the so-called super heavy users of fast-food restaurants. It wants to broaden the Home of the Whopper's scope to include more women and families.
Reports that the King is now moonlighting as the recurring killer in direct-to-video horror movies could not be confirmed. It just seems certain he may be logging some bench time, maybe down in the dungeon.
I guess we should look at the bright side. Jack, of Jack in the Box fame, is routinely picked as the mascot whose head is most likely to roll, though that speaks more to the shape of his noggin than any concerns about job performance. He also has a front-office position as chairman.
And let’s not forget the Jollibee bumblebee. Despite the decimation of honeybees, the mascot continues to buzz along, drawing customers to his Filipino chain.
Maybe the King could fill in for vacations.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Meanwhile, in the statehouses...
While you’ve been working to keep your restaurants alive, lawmakers in at least two states have been trying to help. But the outcome of their efforts are as different as Michael Jordan the restaurateur and Michael Jordan the sports superstar.
First, the laudable effort: In Louisiana, the state House of Representatives is expected to consider a measure that would give restaurants a 4% rebate on purchases of produce and vegetables from farms within the state.
The measure, which has already passed the Senate, is a brilliant way of helping everyone in the supply chain. Farmers will theoretically benefit from stepped-up demand, while restaurateurs get a significant discount at a time of escalating commodity prices. Meanwhile, the measure encourages eateries to feature the ingredient for which Louisiana is famous, adding some appeal to what’s arguably the most popular culinary-tourism destination in the country.
Now, the flip side: Utah, in a fit of reactionary craziness, has passed a law that encourages restaurants and other businesses to accept gold and silver coins instead of greenbacks. The precious metals would be worth their weight, not their face values. For instance, a $10 gold coin would be valued at the current per-ounce trading price for gold, not $10.
That means a restaurant would have to keep a scale on hand and be completely versed in prevailing gold and silver rates.
The rationale for the new law? Tea Party members and sympathizers say the measure will preserve the state’s economy when U.S. currency is rendered valueless by the imminent federal collapse.
That sentiment was enough to get the law passed and on the books.
What a relief that must be to restaurant operators in Utah.
First, the laudable effort: In Louisiana, the state House of Representatives is expected to consider a measure that would give restaurants a 4% rebate on purchases of produce and vegetables from farms within the state.
The measure, which has already passed the Senate, is a brilliant way of helping everyone in the supply chain. Farmers will theoretically benefit from stepped-up demand, while restaurateurs get a significant discount at a time of escalating commodity prices. Meanwhile, the measure encourages eateries to feature the ingredient for which Louisiana is famous, adding some appeal to what’s arguably the most popular culinary-tourism destination in the country.
Now, the flip side: Utah, in a fit of reactionary craziness, has passed a law that encourages restaurants and other businesses to accept gold and silver coins instead of greenbacks. The precious metals would be worth their weight, not their face values. For instance, a $10 gold coin would be valued at the current per-ounce trading price for gold, not $10.
That means a restaurant would have to keep a scale on hand and be completely versed in prevailing gold and silver rates.
The rationale for the new law? Tea Party members and sympathizers say the measure will preserve the state’s economy when U.S. currency is rendered valueless by the imminent federal collapse.
That sentiment was enough to get the law passed and on the books.
What a relief that must be to restaurant operators in Utah.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
My most un-excellent adventure
It’s a dark, dark day; Marriott let me down.
It’s my go-to brand when I need a room in a location where I don’t know the hotels. You’re not likely to be stunned by some new amenity or service (though the Café in its Courtyard line is the best new restaurant concept I’ve seen in years). But you’re assured Tony Soprano-scale protection from unpleasant surprises, too.
Which makes last night all the more heartbreaking. Because a res agent got caught up in rules and process instead of listening and trying to please the customer, I ended up trying to sleep on a cot in Chicago’s Midway Airport with several hundred strangers arrayed to either side of me.
Because of bad weather, my 7:40 p.m. flight out of Midway was steadily pushed back. Finally, a little before 1 a.m., Southwest cancelled the flight. As about 140 of us stood in line to be rebooked the next day, I called Marriott’s reservation line to see if I could score a room near the airport. My mistake was saying, “I need it for tonight.”
Sure enough, there were plenty of rooms at three Marriott properties near by, the res agent assured me. We completed a booking for a Courtyard. Life was looking good. Then she asked me when I’d arrive. Cue the Monty Python music.
“I’ll be there in about a half-hour,” I told her.
“Huh! That’s definitely an early check in,” she responded.
“No, no, no—it’s for tonight, not tomorrow night.”
“Well, I don’t know where you are, but where I am it’s after 1 a.m., so it has to be for tonight.”
“I actually need it for yesterday, then.”
Dead silence.
“It’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” she finally said. “Don’t you want it for tonight?”
“Yes, but ‘tonight’ as in ‘right now,’ not 12 hours from now.”
“Well, you don’t have to wait 12 hours. Check-in’s at 2.”
That give and take continued for about 10 minutes. Finally, I said, “If I go over their right now, would they have a room for me? Because that’s what I need, not a bed in 12 hours.”
“Yes, they would,” she assured me. And they have a courtesy shuttle from the airport!
In her defense: I never stepped into her procedures. I should’ve told her, I’ll be checking out on May 26, not May 27. But it didn’t occur to me.
So off I went to catch the shuttle to the hotel. A half-hour later, the rain pouring down, I charged into the lobby with the hope of getting off my feet and into a clean bed. With free WiFi!
Instead, the woman at the front desk told me I was a day early.
I told her what had happened. She threw up her hands and told me she had no rooms, and neither did any of the other hotels in the area. I’d best head back to the hotel and try to score a cot with the other strand-ees. She’d even call the shuttle right away to take me back.
The good news: The shuttle driver had been left most of a pizza by a customer. Hearing my story, and how I hadn’t eaten and how everything at the airport was closed. he asked me if I’d like some. A free dinner, sort of on Marriott.
By that time, I only had about four hours until my flight out of Midway. By the time I booked a downtown Chicago room, which were plentiful that night, I’d have to turn around and come right back to the airport.
The cot was looking pretty good.
Now I’m in Orlando, waiting for my connecting flight back to New York. The total time for my post-NRA show back home will clock in at roughly 24 hours, with a little airport-corridor camping thrown in.
I’ll definitely go back to a Marriott. The one awful experience is offset by a hundred good ones.
Still, there’s a lesson there. I can’t possibly be the only traveler in Marriott history who discovered he needed a hotel room after 12:01 a.m. on the calendar day I was booking.
Please, someone explain to that agent that she’s in customer service, not rules execution.
It’s my go-to brand when I need a room in a location where I don’t know the hotels. You’re not likely to be stunned by some new amenity or service (though the Café in its Courtyard line is the best new restaurant concept I’ve seen in years). But you’re assured Tony Soprano-scale protection from unpleasant surprises, too.
Which makes last night all the more heartbreaking. Because a res agent got caught up in rules and process instead of listening and trying to please the customer, I ended up trying to sleep on a cot in Chicago’s Midway Airport with several hundred strangers arrayed to either side of me.
Because of bad weather, my 7:40 p.m. flight out of Midway was steadily pushed back. Finally, a little before 1 a.m., Southwest cancelled the flight. As about 140 of us stood in line to be rebooked the next day, I called Marriott’s reservation line to see if I could score a room near the airport. My mistake was saying, “I need it for tonight.”
Sure enough, there were plenty of rooms at three Marriott properties near by, the res agent assured me. We completed a booking for a Courtyard. Life was looking good. Then she asked me when I’d arrive. Cue the Monty Python music.
“I’ll be there in about a half-hour,” I told her.
“Huh! That’s definitely an early check in,” she responded.
“No, no, no—it’s for tonight, not tomorrow night.”
“Well, I don’t know where you are, but where I am it’s after 1 a.m., so it has to be for tonight.”
“I actually need it for yesterday, then.”
Dead silence.
“It’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” she finally said. “Don’t you want it for tonight?”
“Yes, but ‘tonight’ as in ‘right now,’ not 12 hours from now.”
“Well, you don’t have to wait 12 hours. Check-in’s at 2.”
That give and take continued for about 10 minutes. Finally, I said, “If I go over their right now, would they have a room for me? Because that’s what I need, not a bed in 12 hours.”
“Yes, they would,” she assured me. And they have a courtesy shuttle from the airport!
In her defense: I never stepped into her procedures. I should’ve told her, I’ll be checking out on May 26, not May 27. But it didn’t occur to me.
So off I went to catch the shuttle to the hotel. A half-hour later, the rain pouring down, I charged into the lobby with the hope of getting off my feet and into a clean bed. With free WiFi!
Instead, the woman at the front desk told me I was a day early.
I told her what had happened. She threw up her hands and told me she had no rooms, and neither did any of the other hotels in the area. I’d best head back to the hotel and try to score a cot with the other strand-ees. She’d even call the shuttle right away to take me back.
The good news: The shuttle driver had been left most of a pizza by a customer. Hearing my story, and how I hadn’t eaten and how everything at the airport was closed. he asked me if I’d like some. A free dinner, sort of on Marriott.
By that time, I only had about four hours until my flight out of Midway. By the time I booked a downtown Chicago room, which were plentiful that night, I’d have to turn around and come right back to the airport.
The cot was looking pretty good.
Now I’m in Orlando, waiting for my connecting flight back to New York. The total time for my post-NRA show back home will clock in at roughly 24 hours, with a little airport-corridor camping thrown in.
I’ll definitely go back to a Marriott. The one awful experience is offset by a hundred good ones.
Still, there’s a lesson there. I can’t possibly be the only traveler in Marriott history who discovered he needed a hotel room after 12:01 a.m. on the calendar day I was booking.
Please, someone explain to that agent that she’s in customer service, not rules execution.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Close to fisticuffs at the show
Some mixed martial arts were served up during the NRA show at a no-holds-barred debate between chef Stefan Richter, owner of Stefan’s at L.A. Farm, and Luther Lowe, Yelp’s director of business outreach.
Most of the heat was generated not in their exchanges, but in the verbal volley between Richter and the uniformed Yelp employees in the audience.
Richter was swinging from the moment debate moderator Corby Kummer began the education session with a fairly innocuous question: “Do you read your reviews on Yelp?”
“Yes, I do read my reviews on Yelp, and I get my panties in a twist,” said the chef, a runner-up on the hit TV show “Top Chef.” Indeed, Richter said the prospect of bad reviews has cost him considerable sleep.
The problem, he says, is that so-called citizen-reviewers don’t base their assessments on reasonable criteria like service, but on “bull shit,” like his tendency to come out of the kitchen and speak with guests, or even to have a glass of wine while he greets customers. That leads to blasts on Yelp that he’s not manning the line as a chef should.
Once, he asserted, he was dunned a few stars because local gossip reports had mentioned his break-up with a girlfriend.
“You want to comment on my service? Fine. You want to comment on my personal life? Fuck you,” he barked. “Just eat your steak and enjoy it.”
You don't have to pay attention, and don't be so sensitive, contended a woman in the audience.
That drew a sharp retort from Richter.
When the shouter returned the volley, Kummer interceded with a request that she hold her “questions” until the end.
What the woman had yelled was true, Kummer commented to Richter: “You don’t have to care. But you do. Isn’t that the point?”
Playing the diplomat, he turned the focus to Yelp’s Lowe, who calmly asserted that part of the problem is a difference in perspective between customer and chef. He recounted how a restaurant was aghast because a customer kept complaining on Yelp that the place didn’t provide crayons for her children.
Lowe told the concerned restaurateur that the gripe was actually a good thing. Patrons looking for a sports bar where they could watch the game over a few beers, without the noise and mayhem, would read that review and choose the restaurant, he contended.
Full disclosure: I had to leave the session right at that moment to dash to a meeting outside of the show. For all I know, Lowe and Richter were hugging at the end, and the whole room might’ve erupted into a moving rendition of “Kumbaya.”
But when I saw an ambulance heading in the direction of McCormick Place while I was cabbing elsewhere, I did do a major double-take.
Most of the heat was generated not in their exchanges, but in the verbal volley between Richter and the uniformed Yelp employees in the audience.
Richter was swinging from the moment debate moderator Corby Kummer began the education session with a fairly innocuous question: “Do you read your reviews on Yelp?”
“Yes, I do read my reviews on Yelp, and I get my panties in a twist,” said the chef, a runner-up on the hit TV show “Top Chef.” Indeed, Richter said the prospect of bad reviews has cost him considerable sleep.
The problem, he says, is that so-called citizen-reviewers don’t base their assessments on reasonable criteria like service, but on “bull shit,” like his tendency to come out of the kitchen and speak with guests, or even to have a glass of wine while he greets customers. That leads to blasts on Yelp that he’s not manning the line as a chef should.
Once, he asserted, he was dunned a few stars because local gossip reports had mentioned his break-up with a girlfriend.
“You want to comment on my service? Fine. You want to comment on my personal life? Fuck you,” he barked. “Just eat your steak and enjoy it.”
You don't have to pay attention, and don't be so sensitive, contended a woman in the audience.
That drew a sharp retort from Richter.
When the shouter returned the volley, Kummer interceded with a request that she hold her “questions” until the end.
What the woman had yelled was true, Kummer commented to Richter: “You don’t have to care. But you do. Isn’t that the point?”
Playing the diplomat, he turned the focus to Yelp’s Lowe, who calmly asserted that part of the problem is a difference in perspective between customer and chef. He recounted how a restaurant was aghast because a customer kept complaining on Yelp that the place didn’t provide crayons for her children.
Lowe told the concerned restaurateur that the gripe was actually a good thing. Patrons looking for a sports bar where they could watch the game over a few beers, without the noise and mayhem, would read that review and choose the restaurant, he contended.
Full disclosure: I had to leave the session right at that moment to dash to a meeting outside of the show. For all I know, Lowe and Richter were hugging at the end, and the whole room might’ve erupted into a moving rendition of “Kumbaya.”
But when I saw an ambulance heading in the direction of McCormick Place while I was cabbing elsewhere, I did do a major double-take.
Another round of NRA small plates
Knowing your ale from your elbow
Scotty’s Brewhouse, an Indiana-based casual chain, is now asking applicants for bartender jobs to take a quiz first on beer. The chain wants to gauge potential hires’ beer knowledge before giving them a job, explains PeopleMatter, the company that set up the test as part of its application software.
Will oyster leaf be the next craze?
Using the ironclad Rule of Three (i.e., three instances signal a trend), chefs’ use of oyster leaf by is right on the cusp. During an education session, the gardener for Thomas Keller’s Napa Valley restaurants noted how the celebrated chef asked him to cultivate the green, which tastes uncannily like oysters. Samples were provided in one of the booths featuring micro-herbs.
Innovation may be the biggest theme of the show
Traffic on the show floor was particularly thick yesterday afternoon in the Technology Pavilion and the American foods aisles, all of which feature smaller booths frequently manned by entrepreneurs. That dynamic fits what was stressed in everything from education sessions to meet-the-chef presentations in the World Culinary Showcase: Innovation is the key to success in the current economic environment.
Rolling 'bout The Rapture
The fallback for comedic material during the show has been The Rapture, originally predicted to hit on Saturday afternoon, as some of us were having an extra Nathan’s sample just in case the holy rollers were right. An example: Chef Barton Seaver opened his comments on seafood sustainability during an education session by noting The Rapture is already here for the nation’s oceans.
Scotty’s Brewhouse, an Indiana-based casual chain, is now asking applicants for bartender jobs to take a quiz first on beer. The chain wants to gauge potential hires’ beer knowledge before giving them a job, explains PeopleMatter, the company that set up the test as part of its application software.
Will oyster leaf be the next craze?
Using the ironclad Rule of Three (i.e., three instances signal a trend), chefs’ use of oyster leaf by is right on the cusp. During an education session, the gardener for Thomas Keller’s Napa Valley restaurants noted how the celebrated chef asked him to cultivate the green, which tastes uncannily like oysters. Samples were provided in one of the booths featuring micro-herbs.
Innovation may be the biggest theme of the show
Traffic on the show floor was particularly thick yesterday afternoon in the Technology Pavilion and the American foods aisles, all of which feature smaller booths frequently manned by entrepreneurs. That dynamic fits what was stressed in everything from education sessions to meet-the-chef presentations in the World Culinary Showcase: Innovation is the key to success in the current economic environment.
Rolling 'bout The Rapture
The fallback for comedic material during the show has been The Rapture, originally predicted to hit on Saturday afternoon, as some of us were having an extra Nathan’s sample just in case the holy rollers were right. An example: Chef Barton Seaver opened his comments on seafood sustainability during an education session by noting The Rapture is already here for the nation’s oceans.
Monday, May 23, 2011
A few small plates from the NRA show
Phoning it in
Coca-Cola is already working on technology that will allow restaurant customers’ smart phones to “communicate” with self-serve drink dispensers. Buying a highly customized drink could be as easy as relaying the info from a Droid or iPhone. The capability could also deepen the information a restaurant collects on consumption behavior.
So, how’s traffic?
It’s a sport to speculate on the volume of traffic on any given day at any given point on the show floor: “Traffic is great!” “The traffic sucks.” “It was great yesterday, but today? Eh.” After attending 30 shows, I’ve never heard a consensus from vendors or operator attendees
But here’s a quick gauge on the caliber of attendees. I literally bumped into McAlister Deli’s CEO Frank Paci as he walked the American foods aisle with his corporate chef, David Groll, and several other top execs. Turning a corner in to the second aisle of that show-floor area, I nearly collided with a man wearing a badge that identified him as a president of Bravo. It wasn’t clear if that organization is affiliated with Bravo Brio, the polished-casual dinnerhouse operator, or some smaller local chain that operates under the name Bravo.
I would’ve asked him but he was too engrossed in examining what was in the booths.
NRA’s Greatest Hits
So what’s the best-selling recording of education breakout sessions (most of which are taped for sale as CD or web-delivered MP3’s)?
It’s sort of the boxed set, explained the woman manning the sales booth.
The most common order, she said, was a purchase of all the recordings. That runs about $100, while individual recordings are about $25. “People figure, ‘Why not just buy them all?’” she said.
Coca-Cola is already working on technology that will allow restaurant customers’ smart phones to “communicate” with self-serve drink dispensers. Buying a highly customized drink could be as easy as relaying the info from a Droid or iPhone. The capability could also deepen the information a restaurant collects on consumption behavior.
So, how’s traffic?
It’s a sport to speculate on the volume of traffic on any given day at any given point on the show floor: “Traffic is great!” “The traffic sucks.” “It was great yesterday, but today? Eh.” After attending 30 shows, I’ve never heard a consensus from vendors or operator attendees
But here’s a quick gauge on the caliber of attendees. I literally bumped into McAlister Deli’s CEO Frank Paci as he walked the American foods aisle with his corporate chef, David Groll, and several other top execs. Turning a corner in to the second aisle of that show-floor area, I nearly collided with a man wearing a badge that identified him as a president of Bravo. It wasn’t clear if that organization is affiliated with Bravo Brio, the polished-casual dinnerhouse operator, or some smaller local chain that operates under the name Bravo.
I would’ve asked him but he was too engrossed in examining what was in the booths.
NRA’s Greatest Hits
So what’s the best-selling recording of education breakout sessions (most of which are taped for sale as CD or web-delivered MP3’s)?
It’s sort of the boxed set, explained the woman manning the sales booth.
The most common order, she said, was a purchase of all the recordings. That runs about $100, while individual recordings are about $25. “People figure, ‘Why not just buy them all?’” she said.
NRA Show generates some new-concept buzz
If discussions at the NRA show are any indication, concept development is revving up again.
A speaker in an education session on energy and water conservation, of all topics, mentioned that Pizza Fusion CEO Vaughan Lazar was in the brainstorming process for a second venture. Like Fusion, the spin-off would be grounded on green principles, the speaker said.
Pizza Fusion confirmed the report in New Age fashion by retweeting an audience member’s Twitter recount of the remark. It the company’s passing along the word, it must be true.
Meanwhile, a veteran chain-builder who asked not to be identified remarked off-hand that he’s considering a new concept, too. He wouldn’t provide details, but all of his previous ventures have been in the fast-casual segment.
Stay tuned for details.
A speaker in an education session on energy and water conservation, of all topics, mentioned that Pizza Fusion CEO Vaughan Lazar was in the brainstorming process for a second venture. Like Fusion, the spin-off would be grounded on green principles, the speaker said.
Pizza Fusion confirmed the report in New Age fashion by retweeting an audience member’s Twitter recount of the remark. It the company’s passing along the word, it must be true.
Meanwhile, a veteran chain-builder who asked not to be identified remarked off-hand that he’s considering a new concept, too. He wouldn’t provide details, but all of his previous ventures have been in the fast-casual segment.
Stay tuned for details.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Another day at NRA, another rescue
Several hundred of us watched a life being changed tonight. The change-ee will never forget an evening that started with dire concerns about her family’s financial situation and ended with a fresh start, courtesy of two restaurant luminaries who presumably didn’t know her before today. But I’m pretty sure the rest of us will never let it slip from memory, either.
But first, some chiding: If a mention of Salute to Excellence calls to mind a predictable night of canned speeches and saccharine tributes, you clearly weren’t at tonight’s installment.
The banquet, which was celebrating its 25th anniversary, is unique in the business because it spotlights individuals at either extreme of a foodservice career.
Part of the festivities is celebrating the teenage winners of the annual ProStart challenge, a competition between high school culinary teams from across the country. As the mentor of the winning team stressed to me, his pride unbridled, “These are the leaders of tomorrow.”
The other usual highlight of the evening is a celebration of a new “diplomat,” or an industry luminary whose example is an inspiration to any thinking person in the business. This year’s honoree was Ralph Brennan, one of the finest individuals ever to grace the trade. Put a Friday lunch at his Ralph’s on the Park on your bucket list, because you’ll see how sublime a New Orleans dining experience can be. He’s that good as a restaurateur.
You can argue that he’s even better as an industry leader, tirelessly serving the industry through his association involvements and informal mentoring of those who work for or know him.
Kudos to the NRA’s Education Foundation for packing a surprise tonight for Ralph and everyone else in attendance. Before he took the podium, pandemonium erupted. A second-line parade blew through the doors of the ballroom, with masked participants throwing or handing out beads, umbrellas spinning, as they high-stepped and danced through the room. A three-piece rock combo appeared on a balcony, wailing out a New Orleans tune. It was raucous.
Then, after Ralph gave a moving speech, many of us jumped out of our skins as cannons shot glittering confetti over our heads. The band charged into “My Tutu,” and the place rocked. This was not your father’s Salute.
But that wasn’t the big surprise of the evening. That came earlier, in what was clearly an unscripted moment.
Apparently some of the attendees had learned of the difficulties a high schooler in the ProStart competition was having at home. The nature of that rough patch wasn’t disclosed, but there was a vague mention of financial problems. In any case, explained master of ceremonies Carlton Curtis, the young woman would probably have to scrap her plan to start culinary school at the celebrated Le Cordon Bleu.
Not so fast. Curtis ceded the microphone to Ferdinand Metz, the former dean of the Culinary Institute of America and a long-time culinary educator. He noted that Burt Cutino, chef of the famed Sardine Factory restaurant, was on the board of Le Cordon Bleu. He and Cutino agreed that the young woman shouldn’t be denied a culinary education. So, on the spot, they were giving her a full scholarship.
The young woman came to the podium and tearfully gave thanks. It’s a safe bet the banquet staff had to collect plenty of damp napkins that night.
“Now you know why we do what we do,” observed Curtis.
But first, some chiding: If a mention of Salute to Excellence calls to mind a predictable night of canned speeches and saccharine tributes, you clearly weren’t at tonight’s installment.
The banquet, which was celebrating its 25th anniversary, is unique in the business because it spotlights individuals at either extreme of a foodservice career.
Part of the festivities is celebrating the teenage winners of the annual ProStart challenge, a competition between high school culinary teams from across the country. As the mentor of the winning team stressed to me, his pride unbridled, “These are the leaders of tomorrow.”
The other usual highlight of the evening is a celebration of a new “diplomat,” or an industry luminary whose example is an inspiration to any thinking person in the business. This year’s honoree was Ralph Brennan, one of the finest individuals ever to grace the trade. Put a Friday lunch at his Ralph’s on the Park on your bucket list, because you’ll see how sublime a New Orleans dining experience can be. He’s that good as a restaurateur.
You can argue that he’s even better as an industry leader, tirelessly serving the industry through his association involvements and informal mentoring of those who work for or know him.
Kudos to the NRA’s Education Foundation for packing a surprise tonight for Ralph and everyone else in attendance. Before he took the podium, pandemonium erupted. A second-line parade blew through the doors of the ballroom, with masked participants throwing or handing out beads, umbrellas spinning, as they high-stepped and danced through the room. A three-piece rock combo appeared on a balcony, wailing out a New Orleans tune. It was raucous.
Then, after Ralph gave a moving speech, many of us jumped out of our skins as cannons shot glittering confetti over our heads. The band charged into “My Tutu,” and the place rocked. This was not your father’s Salute.
But that wasn’t the big surprise of the evening. That came earlier, in what was clearly an unscripted moment.
Apparently some of the attendees had learned of the difficulties a high schooler in the ProStart competition was having at home. The nature of that rough patch wasn’t disclosed, but there was a vague mention of financial problems. In any case, explained master of ceremonies Carlton Curtis, the young woman would probably have to scrap her plan to start culinary school at the celebrated Le Cordon Bleu.
Not so fast. Curtis ceded the microphone to Ferdinand Metz, the former dean of the Culinary Institute of America and a long-time culinary educator. He noted that Burt Cutino, chef of the famed Sardine Factory restaurant, was on the board of Le Cordon Bleu. He and Cutino agreed that the young woman shouldn’t be denied a culinary education. So, on the spot, they were giving her a full scholarship.
The young woman came to the podium and tearfully gave thanks. It’s a safe bet the banquet staff had to collect plenty of damp napkins that night.
“Now you know why we do what we do,” observed Curtis.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Come hear our presentations
Restaurant Business will be providing information face-to-face this weekend. We have two sessions that we’re moderating on Saturday at the National Restaurant Association show, and we hope you’ll be there.
Sam Smith, our editor in chief, will be looking at the burning issue of rising commodity costs and how operators are dealing with it. Joining him will be David Groll, the former menu R&D chief for McAlister’s Deli; a purchasing specialist; a commodity-price expert; and a representative of the American Restaurant Association. Sam’s panel is scheduled for 12 to 1:30 in room S405B.
I’ll be leading a session on foraging, or how restaurants can secure sufficient supplies of local menu ingredients at a reasonable price. On my panel will be experienced foragers from Whole Foods Market and Bon Appetit Management, a contract feeder that has made local sourcing a part of its DNA.
Also speaking will be the former forager-in-chief for Chicago, who used his local-foods skills to help supply the city’s green markets.
Come see us at 2 o’clock in room S404ABC.
Sam Smith, our editor in chief, will be looking at the burning issue of rising commodity costs and how operators are dealing with it. Joining him will be David Groll, the former menu R&D chief for McAlister’s Deli; a purchasing specialist; a commodity-price expert; and a representative of the American Restaurant Association. Sam’s panel is scheduled for 12 to 1:30 in room S405B.
I’ll be leading a session on foraging, or how restaurants can secure sufficient supplies of local menu ingredients at a reasonable price. On my panel will be experienced foragers from Whole Foods Market and Bon Appetit Management, a contract feeder that has made local sourcing a part of its DNA.
Also speaking will be the former forager-in-chief for Chicago, who used his local-foods skills to help supply the city’s green markets.
Come see us at 2 o’clock in room S404ABC.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
This much we know already
With the NRA show just hours away, certain truths about this year’s convention are piling up like used toothpicks at a sliced-pepperoni booth. Here’re some of the insights we’ve gleaned so far:
--The prize of choice for vendors using giveaways to draw a crowd is the iPad 2. Today brought several invitations to win the tablet by being one of the first 100 people to visit an event or booth on a particular day. Show up and you’re eligible for the drawing.
--One of the hot topics this year will be garbage—how to recycle it, compost it, dehydrate it, turn it into energy or otherwise reduce its volume. Attendees will hear about it the education sessions and on the exhibit halls’ floors.
--There’ll be more of a spotlight on green replacements for chemical cleaners and degreasers.
--The barriers of outrage continue to be extended. For instance, our staff was buzzing today about an invitation to come meet a new online uniform supplier that’ll be exhibiting, BreastaurantUniforms.com. It promises to turn any restaurant into a competitor of Hooters or Twin Peaks.
It’s hardly alone in trying to use an edgy name. I also came across a mention of an exhibitor that makes mats that go under urinals. It’s called WizKids.
Meanwhile, I’m really worried about the Restaurant Business staff. We’ve set a quest for ourselves of finding the booth that’ll be giving away cookies to tout its product, the urinal cookie, or the antiseptic, anti-odor cake that goes in a urinal.
--The prize of choice for vendors using giveaways to draw a crowd is the iPad 2. Today brought several invitations to win the tablet by being one of the first 100 people to visit an event or booth on a particular day. Show up and you’re eligible for the drawing.
--One of the hot topics this year will be garbage—how to recycle it, compost it, dehydrate it, turn it into energy or otherwise reduce its volume. Attendees will hear about it the education sessions and on the exhibit halls’ floors.
--There’ll be more of a spotlight on green replacements for chemical cleaners and degreasers.
--The barriers of outrage continue to be extended. For instance, our staff was buzzing today about an invitation to come meet a new online uniform supplier that’ll be exhibiting, BreastaurantUniforms.com. It promises to turn any restaurant into a competitor of Hooters or Twin Peaks.
It’s hardly alone in trying to use an edgy name. I also came across a mention of an exhibitor that makes mats that go under urinals. It’s called WizKids.
Meanwhile, I’m really worried about the Restaurant Business staff. We’ve set a quest for ourselves of finding the booth that’ll be giving away cookies to tout its product, the urinal cookie, or the antiseptic, anti-odor cake that goes in a urinal.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Year of Mobile Management?
The show hasn’t even started, but a theme is already emerging for the National Restaurant Association’s mega-convention in Chicago. If the early hubbub is any indication, this may well be the Year of the Handheld.
We’ve been hit with a Duluth-scale blizzard of alerts from industry newcomers who are set to change the business come May 20. They’re using the show, still the king of industry trade expositions, to introduce apps, new uses for iPads (primarily as menus, though also as a billing mechanism), restaurant finder services (think TripAdvisor and OpenTable), and citizen-rating networks (Yelp and a host of others).
We’ve seen this sudden emergence of an industry phenomenon before. The Year 2000 was a prime example, with more computer terminals in the booths than you’d find in the programming wing of Microsoft. The exhibitors weren’t touting computers or terminals, but online services, particularly purchasing schemes of one sort or another (the buzzwords flying that year: “aggregation,” “reverse auctions,” and “economies of scale for independents.”)
Curiously, I can’t think of more than two of those companies that are still around, and they’re almost unrecognizable from what they were.
Not that this year’s handheld upstarts are doomed. Far from it, though a shakeout always follows the rapid emergence of a new product or services category. Indeed, we at Restaurant Business feel bullish enough about handhelds to devote an editor to their coverage. So now we have a specialist in social media (yours truly), food (Pat Cobe), ideas and innovation (Sam Smith) and now handhelds/mobile management (Amanda Westbrooks).
We believe handhelds will follow the path of sustainability, the big focus of NRA 2008, though everyone knew it as the green movement back then. From a minor presence the year before, a conservation sensibility had grown into something omni-present.
That hasn’t changed. Indeed, this year EcoLogic will give us what is likely the first NRA to be made of living walls (i.e., plants growing on a vertical plane) and a grass floor.
We’ve been hit with a Duluth-scale blizzard of alerts from industry newcomers who are set to change the business come May 20. They’re using the show, still the king of industry trade expositions, to introduce apps, new uses for iPads (primarily as menus, though also as a billing mechanism), restaurant finder services (think TripAdvisor and OpenTable), and citizen-rating networks (Yelp and a host of others).
We’ve seen this sudden emergence of an industry phenomenon before. The Year 2000 was a prime example, with more computer terminals in the booths than you’d find in the programming wing of Microsoft. The exhibitors weren’t touting computers or terminals, but online services, particularly purchasing schemes of one sort or another (the buzzwords flying that year: “aggregation,” “reverse auctions,” and “economies of scale for independents.”)
Curiously, I can’t think of more than two of those companies that are still around, and they’re almost unrecognizable from what they were.
Not that this year’s handheld upstarts are doomed. Far from it, though a shakeout always follows the rapid emergence of a new product or services category. Indeed, we at Restaurant Business feel bullish enough about handhelds to devote an editor to their coverage. So now we have a specialist in social media (yours truly), food (Pat Cobe), ideas and innovation (Sam Smith) and now handhelds/mobile management (Amanda Westbrooks).
We believe handhelds will follow the path of sustainability, the big focus of NRA 2008, though everyone knew it as the green movement back then. From a minor presence the year before, a conservation sensibility had grown into something omni-present.
That hasn’t changed. Indeed, this year EcoLogic will give us what is likely the first NRA to be made of living walls (i.e., plants growing on a vertical plane) and a grass floor.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Introducing 'flash dining'
New York foodies are buzzing about a recent underground event that could put a new phrase in the mouths of coastal trendinistas: Flash dining.
A logical progression of the pop-up restaurant, the new breed of sport dining would add the elements of illicitness and split-second service choreography to the notion of a limited-time culinary spectacle. Indeed, the precision and daring make Cirque de Soleil look like a spirited croquet game.
The setting was a Brooklyn-bound subway car. Not one reserved for the purpose of providing a few dining adventurers with a one-of-a-kind experience, mind you, but a car making a typical midday run.
The host, a group that describes itself as a culinary performance troupe, took over just one section of the car. As other New Yorkers settled into their usual subway routines, the team from A Razor, A Shiny Knife strung boards from the poles where commuters grab ahold as the train moves.
At the next stop, the dining parties—seemingly a dozen strong—were escorted by a tuxedo’d maitre d’ to their seats behind the suspended tables.
At the stop after that, they were served their first meal, a Japanese spoon of hamchi crudo and bone marrow. It had been prepared at a nearby residential kitchen and run to the train by a “waiter” who paid his fare and boarded the train at the exact car where the customers had been seated.
At the stop after that, it was a foie en brioche with a port reduction, which the customers were advised to eat within four minutes, or before Course #3 would be served at the next stop.
That was the ramp-with-black-garlic station, so to speak.
It was followed by the petite filet mignon, cooked and plated remotely, then served by the waitstaff that hopped aboard en masse.
The whole time, the maitre d’ kept water glasses filled. It’s illegal to drink wine in a subway. Having a six-course meal likely is as well, but every guest and serving-staff member had paid their fare.
The flash-dine continued, one course per station, until dessert was served. At the next stop, the patrons were free to either exit or continue on their way.
The whole thing was caught on video, which you can see here.
It could be a preview of what could be coming to a transportation venue or other challenging location near you.
Remember, you heard it hear first: Flash dining.
A logical progression of the pop-up restaurant, the new breed of sport dining would add the elements of illicitness and split-second service choreography to the notion of a limited-time culinary spectacle. Indeed, the precision and daring make Cirque de Soleil look like a spirited croquet game.
The setting was a Brooklyn-bound subway car. Not one reserved for the purpose of providing a few dining adventurers with a one-of-a-kind experience, mind you, but a car making a typical midday run.
The host, a group that describes itself as a culinary performance troupe, took over just one section of the car. As other New Yorkers settled into their usual subway routines, the team from A Razor, A Shiny Knife strung boards from the poles where commuters grab ahold as the train moves.
At the next stop, the dining parties—seemingly a dozen strong—were escorted by a tuxedo’d maitre d’ to their seats behind the suspended tables.
At the stop after that, they were served their first meal, a Japanese spoon of hamchi crudo and bone marrow. It had been prepared at a nearby residential kitchen and run to the train by a “waiter” who paid his fare and boarded the train at the exact car where the customers had been seated.
At the stop after that, it was a foie en brioche with a port reduction, which the customers were advised to eat within four minutes, or before Course #3 would be served at the next stop.
That was the ramp-with-black-garlic station, so to speak.
It was followed by the petite filet mignon, cooked and plated remotely, then served by the waitstaff that hopped aboard en masse.
The whole time, the maitre d’ kept water glasses filled. It’s illegal to drink wine in a subway. Having a six-course meal likely is as well, but every guest and serving-staff member had paid their fare.
The flash-dine continued, one course per station, until dessert was served. At the next stop, the patrons were free to either exit or continue on their way.
The whole thing was caught on video, which you can see here.
It could be a preview of what could be coming to a transportation venue or other challenging location near you.
Remember, you heard it hear first: Flash dining.
Friday, May 13, 2011
A kick to fast food's buns
The quest for better burgers isn’t leaving the bun behind.
The sandwich upgrades underway at several major fast-food brands focus as much on the bread as what’s between it. The perfect example: Wendy’s, whose buns are about to be buttered.
And toasted, stressed Roland Smith, CEO of the chain and its parent company, Wendy’s/Arby’s Restaurant Group. The chain’s new Dave’s Hot ‘n Juicy cheeseburger line will be served on a toasted, buttered bun, Smith explained to financial analysts during a conference call this week. That twist will make the burgers better than the ones sold by Five Guys and In N Out, he asserted.
Indeed, he made that boast at least three times to the investors participating in the call.
Because the chain will install toasters for the burgers, it can also use a buttered, toasted foundation for its new chicken sandwich line, or what Smith called the Gold line.
The sandwiches will also feature what he described as a better fillet, a better marinade, and better breading. Still, he stressed the importance of the new bun in setting the offering apart.
A better bun is also one of the selling points for McDonald’s new premium chicken sandwich. It features what the chain calls a honey wheat bakery-style roll, and is also toasted.
It’s the latest step in McDonald’s march toward better bread. Its premium Angus burger line is similarly served on a bakery-style roll.
Jack in the Box is similarly using what it calls a bakery-style roll for its sirloin burger.
Clearly the fast-food sector isn’t living by the patty alone.
The sandwich upgrades underway at several major fast-food brands focus as much on the bread as what’s between it. The perfect example: Wendy’s, whose buns are about to be buttered.
And toasted, stressed Roland Smith, CEO of the chain and its parent company, Wendy’s/Arby’s Restaurant Group. The chain’s new Dave’s Hot ‘n Juicy cheeseburger line will be served on a toasted, buttered bun, Smith explained to financial analysts during a conference call this week. That twist will make the burgers better than the ones sold by Five Guys and In N Out, he asserted.
Indeed, he made that boast at least three times to the investors participating in the call.
Because the chain will install toasters for the burgers, it can also use a buttered, toasted foundation for its new chicken sandwich line, or what Smith called the Gold line.
The sandwiches will also feature what he described as a better fillet, a better marinade, and better breading. Still, he stressed the importance of the new bun in setting the offering apart.
A better bun is also one of the selling points for McDonald’s new premium chicken sandwich. It features what the chain calls a honey wheat bakery-style roll, and is also toasted.
It’s the latest step in McDonald’s march toward better bread. Its premium Angus burger line is similarly served on a bakery-style roll.
Jack in the Box is similarly using what it calls a bakery-style roll for its sirloin burger.
Clearly the fast-food sector isn’t living by the patty alone.
Restaurant publicity stunts are alive, but not well
A pink ass seldom sells restaurant meals, or at least not outside of certain neighborhoods in New York and San Francisco. But that didn’t divert the marketing ploy from express-line entry into the Restaurant Publicity Stunts Hall of Fame, which might have to open a whole new wing after recent weeks.
Indeed, we may be in a Golden Age of restaurant stunts, a reflection of the need to offset shrinking (or non-existent) marketing budgets with outrageous actions. That factor is changing the very nature of stunts. No longer are they single events, over and done in a flash.
Consider, for instance, how a newcomer to the better-burger market tried to set itself apart from the spatula-wielding pack. Twenty-three-year-old Lakita Evans decided to call her Waco, Texas, outlet Fat Ho. Its specialties include a Sloppy Ho, a.k.a. a brisket sandwich, and a Supa Dupa Fly Ho.
Evans hit the mark. Papers across the nation have reported on her venture, invariably focusing on the name and her age rather than the quality of the food and service.
Many of the reports noted that she was opening a pimp’s walk away from the Gospel Café, a ploy practitioner in its own right.
Neither should (or would) be confused with Buns, a burger joint in Chapel Hill, N.C.
And don’t expect to find More Than a Mouthful Burgers, the signature line of Hooters, a pioneer of the suggestive-name approach.
But the all-time winner of the double-entendre approach has to be Pink Taco, which, some of Reality Check’s readers in stained raincoats have informed me, is slang for female genitalia.
But the gynecology-inspired concept didn’t stop there. Last week, in honor of Cinco de Mayo, the Los Angeles casual restaurant decided to post something decidedly Mexican outside its tony Century City location. It took a donkey, or what patrons of the Gospel Café might know from their bible readings to be known also as an ass, and painted it pink.
The animal was staked outside the mall restaurant, “Pink Taco” written on its flank in what looked like a finger-painting endeavor.
The restaurant got attention, for sure. But unfortunately some of it came from animal-rights advocates, who moved in like vice cops staking out Charlie Sheen’s house. The restaurant agreed never to use a live animal in its promotion again.
But take heart: There’s still a respect evident among restaurant stunt-pullers for the classics. KFC, for instance, used the timeless stunt setting of a skyscraper’s upper floors to call attention to its new $5 bundled lunch meals. At noon today, someone dressed as Col. Sanders will rappel down 38 floors of a Chicago building to deliver lunches to window washers dangling outside the 40th floor.
Reports that the chain considered a flag-pole sitting contest could not be confirmed.
Even more conventional is what Arby’s is doing to introduce its new Grilled Chicken & Pecan Salad Sandwich and wrap—ironically, like KFC’s new lunch deal, a product intended to draw customers away from Subway.
The chain will give away free sandwiches and wraps to customers who buy a 22-oz. soft drink anytime before May 23. Patrons are then invited to vote for which they like better, the Arby’s sandwich or Subway’s Orchard Chicken Salad sub.
There’s been no response from Subway. Maybe it’s thinking up its own stunt.
Indeed, we may be in a Golden Age of restaurant stunts, a reflection of the need to offset shrinking (or non-existent) marketing budgets with outrageous actions. That factor is changing the very nature of stunts. No longer are they single events, over and done in a flash.
Consider, for instance, how a newcomer to the better-burger market tried to set itself apart from the spatula-wielding pack. Twenty-three-year-old Lakita Evans decided to call her Waco, Texas, outlet Fat Ho. Its specialties include a Sloppy Ho, a.k.a. a brisket sandwich, and a Supa Dupa Fly Ho.
Evans hit the mark. Papers across the nation have reported on her venture, invariably focusing on the name and her age rather than the quality of the food and service.
Many of the reports noted that she was opening a pimp’s walk away from the Gospel Café, a ploy practitioner in its own right.
Neither should (or would) be confused with Buns, a burger joint in Chapel Hill, N.C.
And don’t expect to find More Than a Mouthful Burgers, the signature line of Hooters, a pioneer of the suggestive-name approach.
But the all-time winner of the double-entendre approach has to be Pink Taco, which, some of Reality Check’s readers in stained raincoats have informed me, is slang for female genitalia.
But the gynecology-inspired concept didn’t stop there. Last week, in honor of Cinco de Mayo, the Los Angeles casual restaurant decided to post something decidedly Mexican outside its tony Century City location. It took a donkey, or what patrons of the Gospel Café might know from their bible readings to be known also as an ass, and painted it pink.
The animal was staked outside the mall restaurant, “Pink Taco” written on its flank in what looked like a finger-painting endeavor.
The restaurant got attention, for sure. But unfortunately some of it came from animal-rights advocates, who moved in like vice cops staking out Charlie Sheen’s house. The restaurant agreed never to use a live animal in its promotion again.
But take heart: There’s still a respect evident among restaurant stunt-pullers for the classics. KFC, for instance, used the timeless stunt setting of a skyscraper’s upper floors to call attention to its new $5 bundled lunch meals. At noon today, someone dressed as Col. Sanders will rappel down 38 floors of a Chicago building to deliver lunches to window washers dangling outside the 40th floor.
Reports that the chain considered a flag-pole sitting contest could not be confirmed.
Even more conventional is what Arby’s is doing to introduce its new Grilled Chicken & Pecan Salad Sandwich and wrap—ironically, like KFC’s new lunch deal, a product intended to draw customers away from Subway.
The chain will give away free sandwiches and wraps to customers who buy a 22-oz. soft drink anytime before May 23. Patrons are then invited to vote for which they like better, the Arby’s sandwich or Subway’s Orchard Chicken Salad sub.
There’s been no response from Subway. Maybe it’s thinking up its own stunt.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
The publicity event is alive, but not necessarily well
A pink ass seldom sells restaurant meals, or at least not outside of certain neighborhoods in New York and San Francisco. But that didn’t divert the marketing ploy from express-line entry into the Restaurant Publicity Stunts Hall of Fame, which might have to open a whole new wing after recent weeks.
Indeed, we may be in a Golden Age of restaurant stunts, a reflection of the need to offset shrinking (or non-existent) marketing budgets with outrageous actions. That factor is changing the very nature of stunts. No longer are they single events, over and done in a flash.
Consider, for instance, how a newcomer to the better-burger market tried to set itself apart from the spatula-wielding pack. Twenty-three-year-old Lakita Evans decided to call her Waco, Texas, outlet Fat Ho. Its specialties include a Sloppy Ho, a.k.a. a brisket sandwich, and a Supa Dupa Fly Ho.
Evans hit the mark. Papers across the nation have reported on her venture, invariably focusing on the name and her age rather than the quality of the food and service.
Many of the reports noted that she was opening a pimp’s walk away from the Gospel Café, a ploy practitioner in its own right.
Neither should (or would) be confused with Buns, a burger joint in Chapel Hill, N.C.
And don’t expect to find More Than a Mouthful Burgers, the signature line of Hooters, a pioneer of the suggestive-name approach.
But the all-time winner of the double-entendre approach has to be Pink Taco, which, some of Reality Check’s readers in stained raincoats have informed me, is slang for female genitalia.
But the gynecology-inspired concept didn’t stop there. Last week, in honor of Cinco de Mayo, the Los Angeles casual restaurant decided to post something decidedly Mexican outside its tony Century City location. It took a donkey, or what patrons of the Gospel Café might know from their bible readings to be known also as an ass, and painted it pink.
The animal was staked outside the mall restaurant, “Pink Taco” written on its flank in what looked like a finger-painting endeavor.
The restaurant got attention, for sure. But unfortunately some of it came from animal-rights advocates, who moved in like vice cops staking out Charlie Sheen’s house. The restaurant agreed never to use a live animal in its promotion again.
But take heart: There’s still a respect evident among restaurant stunt-pullers for the classics. KFC, for instance, used the timeless stunt setting of a skyscraper’s upper floors to call attention to its new $5 bundled lunch meals. At noon today, someone dressed as Col. Sanders will rappel down 38 floors of a Chicago building to deliver lunches to window washers dangling outside the 40th floor.
Reports that the chain considered a flag-pole sitting contest could not be confirmed.
Even more conventional is what Arby’s is doing to introduce its new Grilled Chicken & Pecan Salad Sandwich and wrap—ironically, like KFC’s new lunch deal, a product intended to draw customers away from Subway.
The chain will give away free sandwiches and wraps to customers who buy a 22-oz. soft drink anytime before May 23. Patrons are then invited to vote for which they like better, the Arby’s sandwich or Subway’s Orchard Chicken Salad sub.
There’s been no response from Subway. Maybe it’s thinking up its own stunt.
Indeed, we may be in a Golden Age of restaurant stunts, a reflection of the need to offset shrinking (or non-existent) marketing budgets with outrageous actions. That factor is changing the very nature of stunts. No longer are they single events, over and done in a flash.
Consider, for instance, how a newcomer to the better-burger market tried to set itself apart from the spatula-wielding pack. Twenty-three-year-old Lakita Evans decided to call her Waco, Texas, outlet Fat Ho. Its specialties include a Sloppy Ho, a.k.a. a brisket sandwich, and a Supa Dupa Fly Ho.
Evans hit the mark. Papers across the nation have reported on her venture, invariably focusing on the name and her age rather than the quality of the food and service.
Many of the reports noted that she was opening a pimp’s walk away from the Gospel Café, a ploy practitioner in its own right.
Neither should (or would) be confused with Buns, a burger joint in Chapel Hill, N.C.
And don’t expect to find More Than a Mouthful Burgers, the signature line of Hooters, a pioneer of the suggestive-name approach.
But the all-time winner of the double-entendre approach has to be Pink Taco, which, some of Reality Check’s readers in stained raincoats have informed me, is slang for female genitalia.
But the gynecology-inspired concept didn’t stop there. Last week, in honor of Cinco de Mayo, the Los Angeles casual restaurant decided to post something decidedly Mexican outside its tony Century City location. It took a donkey, or what patrons of the Gospel Café might know from their bible readings to be known also as an ass, and painted it pink.
The animal was staked outside the mall restaurant, “Pink Taco” written on its flank in what looked like a finger-painting endeavor.
The restaurant got attention, for sure. But unfortunately some of it came from animal-rights advocates, who moved in like vice cops staking out Charlie Sheen’s house. The restaurant agreed never to use a live animal in its promotion again.
But take heart: There’s still a respect evident among restaurant stunt-pullers for the classics. KFC, for instance, used the timeless stunt setting of a skyscraper’s upper floors to call attention to its new $5 bundled lunch meals. At noon today, someone dressed as Col. Sanders will rappel down 38 floors of a Chicago building to deliver lunches to window washers dangling outside the 40th floor.
Reports that the chain considered a flag-pole sitting contest could not be confirmed.
Even more conventional is what Arby’s is doing to introduce its new Grilled Chicken & Pecan Salad Sandwich and wrap—ironically, like KFC’s new lunch deal, a product intended to draw customers away from Subway.
The chain will give away free sandwiches and wraps to customers who buy a 22-oz. soft drink anytime before May 23. Patrons are then invited to vote for which they like better, the Arby’s sandwich or Subway’s Orchard Chicken Salad sub.
There’s been no response from Subway. Maybe it’s thinking up its own stunt.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
What else is on Landry's plate
The leadership team at Landry’s Restaurants must be a tuckered bunch. They’re in the midst of a remarkably shrewd attempt to take control of McCormick & Schmick’s, a competitor of the company’s namesake brand. But that’s just one of the matters that likely has them gulping coffee and dreaming of vacation.
There’s also a lawsuit arising from an earlier acquisition, revealed as part of the thrust and parry with McCormick & Schmick’s management. The executives filed a PowerPoint presentation yesterday with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission that spells out why they’d rejected Landry’s $9.25-a-share purchase offer. The presentation is apparently being given to shareholders, and hence had to be put on record with federal regulators.
Among the stated reasons for opposing the takeover are the alleged “dubious dealings” of Landry’s and its principal owner, Tilman Fertitta. The pertinent slide asserts that Fertitta has used “coercive tactics” in past takeover attempt. It cites the example of Fertitta’s release of an offer to buy Smith & Wollensky without the steakhouse chain’s permission.
McCormick & Schmick’s apparently thinks it’s coercive to let shareholders know what a prospective buyer is willing to pay, instead of letting the seller’s management filter that information to the owners.
The dubious-dealings slide also cites a lawsuit filed on April 27 by the former owners of Bubba Gump Shrimp Co., the Forrest Gump-themed dinnerhouse chain that Landry’s acquired last year. According to McCormick & Schmick’s, the suit accuses Landry’s of breaching its fiduciary responsibilities to the sellers.
No details were provided, and a number of internet searches turned up nary a word. Landry’s, as a private company, typically doesn’t discuss such matters.
If that’s all the team at Landry’s had on their plate, they’d be excused for looking a little haggard. But they also have to prepare for the likelihood of getting a green light on another acquisition, the purchase of an Atlantic City casino from Donald Trump.
Landry’s offer of $38 million has already been accepted. But the sale and changeover of the property to a Golden Nugget casino-hotel has yet to be approved by state gaming regulators.
Meanwhile, there’s still the issue of bagging McCormick & Schmick’s. As the company had said in an earlier SEC filing, it thinks Landry’s is trying to lowball the market with its $9.25 bid. So, it announced, management was commencing a formal sale. Suitors welcomed.
Fertitta responded by praising the company for realizing it should change hands. He then dropped his hostile takeover attempt and announced he’d pursue the company in the very fashion it preferred. He’d get in touch with the appropriate sales agents and begin the negotiations.
You have to wonder how he’ll respond if they show him the PowerPoint presentation.
There’s also a lawsuit arising from an earlier acquisition, revealed as part of the thrust and parry with McCormick & Schmick’s management. The executives filed a PowerPoint presentation yesterday with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission that spells out why they’d rejected Landry’s $9.25-a-share purchase offer. The presentation is apparently being given to shareholders, and hence had to be put on record with federal regulators.
Among the stated reasons for opposing the takeover are the alleged “dubious dealings” of Landry’s and its principal owner, Tilman Fertitta. The pertinent slide asserts that Fertitta has used “coercive tactics” in past takeover attempt. It cites the example of Fertitta’s release of an offer to buy Smith & Wollensky without the steakhouse chain’s permission.
McCormick & Schmick’s apparently thinks it’s coercive to let shareholders know what a prospective buyer is willing to pay, instead of letting the seller’s management filter that information to the owners.
The dubious-dealings slide also cites a lawsuit filed on April 27 by the former owners of Bubba Gump Shrimp Co., the Forrest Gump-themed dinnerhouse chain that Landry’s acquired last year. According to McCormick & Schmick’s, the suit accuses Landry’s of breaching its fiduciary responsibilities to the sellers.
No details were provided, and a number of internet searches turned up nary a word. Landry’s, as a private company, typically doesn’t discuss such matters.
If that’s all the team at Landry’s had on their plate, they’d be excused for looking a little haggard. But they also have to prepare for the likelihood of getting a green light on another acquisition, the purchase of an Atlantic City casino from Donald Trump.
Landry’s offer of $38 million has already been accepted. But the sale and changeover of the property to a Golden Nugget casino-hotel has yet to be approved by state gaming regulators.
Meanwhile, there’s still the issue of bagging McCormick & Schmick’s. As the company had said in an earlier SEC filing, it thinks Landry’s is trying to lowball the market with its $9.25 bid. So, it announced, management was commencing a formal sale. Suitors welcomed.
Fertitta responded by praising the company for realizing it should change hands. He then dropped his hostile takeover attempt and announced he’d pursue the company in the very fashion it preferred. He’d get in touch with the appropriate sales agents and begin the negotiations.
You have to wonder how he’ll respond if they show him the PowerPoint presentation.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Maybe you should sell T-shirts
Good news for family travelers: You won’t have to drive three hours this summer to take in attractions like Paul Bunyan’s Giant Ball of Tinfoil. This vacation season those educational opportunities will be no more distant than the nearest restaurant, where June, Skipper and Princess can witness the World’s Greatest Vise in action.
But first, a primer is in order. During the Great Recession, discounting was one of the few ways restaurants could brake the loss of customers. And, man, did they use it. According to Burger King franchisees, they were actually losing money on some of the bargain-priced items they were forced to sell by corporate. McDonald’s ‘zees similarly griped about the dollar price tag they were pressed to put on some breakfast options.
Rock-bottom deals weren’t merely a quick-service phenomenon. Steak chains survived the downturn largely by giving customers low-ticket alternatives, like bar menus and drink specials. Casual chains bundled their selections, packaging two entrees and a shared appetizer at what an entree alone might’ve once cost.
Deal-making, once merely a tactic, became a fundamental strategy. Customers came to expect the deals. Some might say they became addicted. But, hey, the approach worked.
The industry might’ve had time to ease through a reasonable detox. But the rise in commodity costs snatched that option away. Patrons still refused to step through the front door unless they were offered a steal. But the bargains were harder for operators to swallow because ingredients like tomatoes and beef were costing a lot more at the back door.
Voila: The World’s Greatest Vise, a.k.a. the after-Recession squeeze on margins.
Commodity prices are difficult to cover because they’re slipperier than an eel with a law degree. The direction can shift profoundly, one way or another, in a matter of days or weeks.
But recent headlines suggest we’re seeing just the beginning of the climb.
Consider, for instance, one little-noticed effect of last week’s tornadoes in the Southeast. The twisters hit nearly 400 chicken coops in Alabama alone, or roughly 25% of the state’s bird-rearing facilities. The Wall Street Journal reported that about 5 million birds were killed, putting an extreme crimp in supply.
That devastation came as chains like Wendy’s were tinkering with new chicken sandwiches, a move interpreted by many observers as a reaction to soaring beef prices.
The good news: Chickens require only about six weeks to reach maturity. If facilities can be repaired and flocks replenished, the damage could presumably be offset quickly.
Not so with sugar. The Journal, a real bummer this past week, reported that domestic crops of sugar cane were undercut by Florida’s cold snap in December.
Yet to be determined, it added, is the effect of flooding on Midwest areas that cultivate sugar beets. The experts are gauging how the rainfall affected plantings for the spring and summer growing season.
And, just to put that (unsweetened) cherry on top, the paper noted that the U.S. government is tightening the cap on sugar imports.
Not that the worldwide market is awash in the stuff. Bloomberg reported a few months ago that cyclones destroyed much of Australia’s sugar-producing fields. The European Union had already addressed the issue.
So had the United States. Farmers had indicated an intention to cultivate more sugar beets to exploit the worldwide opportunity. Oh, well.
At least families won’t have to use as much gas this summer to take in cultural sites like House o’ Mud, Alligatorville and Michigan’s Largest Ball of String.
Maybe they’ll use the savings to buy a drive-thru burger—at full price.
But first, a primer is in order. During the Great Recession, discounting was one of the few ways restaurants could brake the loss of customers. And, man, did they use it. According to Burger King franchisees, they were actually losing money on some of the bargain-priced items they were forced to sell by corporate. McDonald’s ‘zees similarly griped about the dollar price tag they were pressed to put on some breakfast options.
Rock-bottom deals weren’t merely a quick-service phenomenon. Steak chains survived the downturn largely by giving customers low-ticket alternatives, like bar menus and drink specials. Casual chains bundled their selections, packaging two entrees and a shared appetizer at what an entree alone might’ve once cost.
Deal-making, once merely a tactic, became a fundamental strategy. Customers came to expect the deals. Some might say they became addicted. But, hey, the approach worked.
The industry might’ve had time to ease through a reasonable detox. But the rise in commodity costs snatched that option away. Patrons still refused to step through the front door unless they were offered a steal. But the bargains were harder for operators to swallow because ingredients like tomatoes and beef were costing a lot more at the back door.
Voila: The World’s Greatest Vise, a.k.a. the after-Recession squeeze on margins.
Commodity prices are difficult to cover because they’re slipperier than an eel with a law degree. The direction can shift profoundly, one way or another, in a matter of days or weeks.
But recent headlines suggest we’re seeing just the beginning of the climb.
Consider, for instance, one little-noticed effect of last week’s tornadoes in the Southeast. The twisters hit nearly 400 chicken coops in Alabama alone, or roughly 25% of the state’s bird-rearing facilities. The Wall Street Journal reported that about 5 million birds were killed, putting an extreme crimp in supply.
That devastation came as chains like Wendy’s were tinkering with new chicken sandwiches, a move interpreted by many observers as a reaction to soaring beef prices.
The good news: Chickens require only about six weeks to reach maturity. If facilities can be repaired and flocks replenished, the damage could presumably be offset quickly.
Not so with sugar. The Journal, a real bummer this past week, reported that domestic crops of sugar cane were undercut by Florida’s cold snap in December.
Yet to be determined, it added, is the effect of flooding on Midwest areas that cultivate sugar beets. The experts are gauging how the rainfall affected plantings for the spring and summer growing season.
And, just to put that (unsweetened) cherry on top, the paper noted that the U.S. government is tightening the cap on sugar imports.
Not that the worldwide market is awash in the stuff. Bloomberg reported a few months ago that cyclones destroyed much of Australia’s sugar-producing fields. The European Union had already addressed the issue.
So had the United States. Farmers had indicated an intention to cultivate more sugar beets to exploit the worldwide opportunity. Oh, well.
At least families won’t have to use as much gas this summer to take in cultural sites like House o’ Mud, Alligatorville and Michigan’s Largest Ball of String.
Maybe they’ll use the savings to buy a drive-thru burger—at full price.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Party on, Mariano
Never mind the buzz about Osama Bin Laden. The frozen-margarita machine is about to turn 40!
The official anniversary is May 11, according to a press release issued this morning. It noted that the Smithsonian Museum spent a year verifying the date and the identify of the inventor, a Dallas restaurateur named Mariano Martinez, who, like Fergie and Adele, usually goes by his first name.
The Smithsonian—as far as I can tell, an institution supported by our tax dollars—pointed out that the frozen dispenser placed tenth on a list of American inventions. Number One was the light bulb, and you have to presume the slider and the straw were in their someplace.
"No, it's not the Model T, but we have a lot of little things in the museum that are little innovations that became important,” said Smithsonian curator Dr. Rayna Green.
She doesn’t need to convince me. When the kitchen of my current house was renovated, I argued passionately for replacing the stove, a worthless dust collector, with a genuine margarita dispenser. But apparently that concession to reality fell beyond the “for worse” provision of the marital vow, as my wife (who refers to herself as my first wife) sharply pointed out at the time.
If only I'd had the data point that was released this morning: Americans drink 185,000 frozen margaritas in a typical evening hour. Think of how many more Facebook friends we'd have landed with an in-house margarita machine!
I don’t mean to trivialize the historic news of this day. But let’s give it up for the frozen drink machine. Without it, what would a dozen Tex-Mex chains serve with their nachos and chips?
The official anniversary is May 11, according to a press release issued this morning. It noted that the Smithsonian Museum spent a year verifying the date and the identify of the inventor, a Dallas restaurateur named Mariano Martinez, who, like Fergie and Adele, usually goes by his first name.
The Smithsonian—as far as I can tell, an institution supported by our tax dollars—pointed out that the frozen dispenser placed tenth on a list of American inventions. Number One was the light bulb, and you have to presume the slider and the straw were in their someplace.
"No, it's not the Model T, but we have a lot of little things in the museum that are little innovations that became important,” said Smithsonian curator Dr. Rayna Green.
She doesn’t need to convince me. When the kitchen of my current house was renovated, I argued passionately for replacing the stove, a worthless dust collector, with a genuine margarita dispenser. But apparently that concession to reality fell beyond the “for worse” provision of the marital vow, as my wife (who refers to herself as my first wife) sharply pointed out at the time.
If only I'd had the data point that was released this morning: Americans drink 185,000 frozen margaritas in a typical evening hour. Think of how many more Facebook friends we'd have landed with an in-house margarita machine!
I don’t mean to trivialize the historic news of this day. But let’s give it up for the frozen drink machine. Without it, what would a dozen Tex-Mex chains serve with their nachos and chips?
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