How Restaurants Can Ride Out the Economic Storm

A couple of weeks ago, I took my family out to one of our favorite Indian restaurants for dinner. The waitress, who recognized us immediately, commented on our long absence from her establishment. We explained (somewhat sheepishly, I might add) that we had not been going out for dinner anywhere these past few months. “I understand,” she said. “Very few people do. It’s been hard for us.”

The economic downturn has been especially hard on the restaurant industry. CNBC reported on declining restaurant attendance last December. According to The NPD Group, a leading market research company, the opening of new restaurants was balanced out by the closings, resulting in no growth in total restaurant units in 2008. In 2009, restaurant traffic is predicted to fall by at least 1%, and the casual dining segment could have its worst year in decades.

Dick Williams, culinary advisor and owner of Denver’s high end Buckhorn Exchange Steakhouse, reported that menu prices increased 4.3% in 2008. With food costs expected to increase by 7-9%, either menu prices will rise in 2009, or portion sizes will shrink.

So, what is a restaurateur to do? The answer is obvious. Start offering cooking classes.

Interestingly, cooking classes are doing quite well in this economy precisely because so many people are no longer going to restaurants. Sherry Zylka, associate dean of continuing education and workforce development at Schoolcraft College in Livonia, MI, reported a 20% increase in the number of men taking classes, suggesting that interest in cooking cuts across gender lines.

By offering cooking demonstrations and classes, restaurants can maintain their customer loyalty while continuing to make some money. By offering classes at $15-$25 per class, the restaurant can greatly undercut Williams-Sonoma’s costs for cooking demonstrations. Furthermore, the restaurant does not need to create a new brand identity or reputation for its cooking demonstrations. The quality of its product is known to all of its customers.

Ethnic restaurants in particular could succeed with cooking demonstrations simply because fewer Americans know how to make exotic dishes. A cooking class on making paneer pakora (fried, battered cheese) is much more exciting than a cooking class on, oh, I don't know...breaded cheese sticks.

Unfortunately, I predict that few restaurants will try out this idea simply because of the fear that the classes will cannibalize or neutralize their existing business. While this is certainly a possibility, I personally think that the benefits gained in building customer loyalty outweigh any lost revenue. When times are tough, customers will flock to the restaurants to learn how to make their favorite dishes at home. And when times get better, customers will come back. Yes, even if customers know the "secrets" of cooking, they will still go out to eat at restaurants for two important reasons: 1) most people don’t want to cook if they don't have to, and 2) they know that the restaurant can do it better.

So, there it is: my secret for riding out the economic storm. It is free advice for any restaurateurs who wants to take it. I won’t charge you a penny for the idea.

However, if you want to give me a discounted rate on your palak paneer demonstration, I won’t say no.

My Favorite Indian Restaurant in Indianapolis

According to IndyEthnicFood.com, the Indianapolis metro area has 12 Indian restaurants (11 really since India Garden has two locations). I have eaten in 8 out of the 11 restaurants, and I have not had a bad meal in any of them. That's pretty good for a midwestern city. How many other cities outside of Mumbai can boast a MINIMUM competence rate of 73% when it comes to Indian food.

However, I have my favorites. In fact, I have my favorite, and it is definitely Taj of India. The restaurant serves east Indian fare. The average entree costs $8-$12, and the lunch buffet is $6.60 per person.

The food is fantastic, the portions are large, the vegetarian entrees are many (I've counted close to 25), and the restaurant feels...well...friendly. There is no other word for it but friendly. I feel more comfortable there then in any other Indian restaurant in town, largely because of the soft lighting, authentic Indian music, and unpretentious attitude. And, of course, the food. Oh, yes...the food...

My wife insists that we go there (or get takeout from there) whenever possible. Malai Kofta is her favorite dish, and she insists that they make the best malai kofta in town. Tonight she insisted that I drive across town to Taj of India after I picked up Omri from Hebrew School (even though it wasn't the closest restaurant to the school or to our house) because she was craving some "comfort food."

Of course, I have to admit that we also love the restaurant because Rani, our favorite waitress, works there. It's not just that she's always friendly, it's not just that she's very cute, it's not just that she can recognize me on the phone whenever I put in an order, it's not just that she knows our order by heart:

malai kofta mild for Shirah, paneer pakora for the boys, one order of garlic naan, and something medium spicy for me...usually palak paneer. Oh, and 2 mango shakes.

No, it's not any one of those things. It's all of those things combined.

I highly, highly recommend the restaurant. Please say namaste to Rani when you're there.

And tip her well.

Bubbles of Incompetence

I have long held the belief that incompetence is not merely the lack of competence, but in fact a noncorporeal entity that exists in two forms: static and transient. Static incompetence takes up permanent residence in a single person, like our current president, or a single institution, like FEMA. Transient incompetence, on the other hand, exists in discrete bubbles that shift from one location to the next, occasionally encompassing an entire establishment. How else can one explain why a favorite restaurant suddenly can’t make change, drops all their dishes, and screws up your order…repeatedly?

Actually, this time it wasn’t my favorite restaurant…it was my mother’s. A couple of week’s ago, my mother and I went out to dinner at Nick’s Patio, her favorite restaurant in South Bend, Indiana. Nick’s serves American home-style food in very large, very tasty portions, but the restaurant has become her favorite because it is one of the few places in South Bend that can accommodate her low-salt, low-fat, low-spiciness diet. Recently, the owner of Nick’s had to put himself on a low-salt diet, and he has repeatedly assured my mother that she can get a good low-sodium meal there.

But every now and then, there is a bubble.

She ordered the vegetable stir fry and told the waitress that it needs to be low salt. “No soy sauce,” she said.

“No problem,” said the waitress.

When the plate came, my mother tried to ask the waitress about the noticeable brown sauce on the stir fry. “This is no soy sauce, right?”

“Yes,” she said. “I told the kitchen, no soy sauce.”

So my mother started eating.

“Taste this,” she asked me. “Is there soy sauce in it?”

I tasted the stir fry. It actually had flavor, which is usually indicative of the presence of salt in some form. But who was I to argue with her favorite establishment?

“Um…” I said, “I’m not sure. Maybe they used a broth instead.”

My mother wasn’t convinced. After eating a third of the meal, she flagged down the waitress and asked her to ask the kitchen about the brown sauce. Eating with my mother is always entertaining.

It took a while for the waitress to get back to us. A long while. In the meantime, I had given my mother a third of my 4-egg omelette (which was low salt) so she wouldn’t starve. Finally, the waitress returned.

“It’s not soy sauce,” she said cheerfully. “It’s teriyaki sauce.”

There was an audible pause.

After my mother explained to her as politely as her New York blood would allow that a) teriyaki sauce was almost ENTIRELY made up of soy sauce and b) teriyaki sauce was extremely high in salt, she asked to speak to the owner. The owner wasn't there, so she spoke to the manager. The manager made sure that she got her meal re-made (although for some bizarre reason, it took two more times before the kitchen could get it right), and she didn’t charge us for my mother’s meal. It was very good customer service for one of Nick’s faithful patrons. If only the manager had left it there.

The manager patiently explained to us that the kitchen staff didn’t know what was in teriyaki sauce. “Furthermore,” she continued, “Most of them don’t even speak English.”

Sometimes honesty is NOT the best policy. Open letter to all restaurants that I patronize in the future: Please don’t ever tell me that a) the people preparing my food have no idea what they are putting into it or, b) nobody can accurately communicate my order to the kitchen staff. If necessary, make something up. Anything. “Oh, we’re sorry about that. The chef’s wife ran away today with the plumber, and he’s been messing up everyone’s order.” I’ll accept that. I’d prefer that.

Didn’t know that teriyaki sauce had soy sauce in it? Honestly. What did they think made it salty? Magic?

We decided to go elsewhere for dessert, and after another comedy of errors (where all of our favorite ice cream establishments were closed), we ended up at McDonalds to get chocolate-dipped cones. There were only about 4 other patrons in the restaurant, but after putting my order in, we had to wait about 7 minutes to get the cones because - and I kid you not - none of the staff knew how to make chocolate-dipped cones.

I felt like jumping across the counter and offering to make them myself. Look, I would say, ice cream…chocolate sauce…dip…twirl…done! But I didn’t. It wasn’t their fault. The bubble had simply encompassed all of South Bend, and there was nothing I could do but wait for the bubble to get bored and move on.

Amber Indian, Revisited

Forget what I previously said about the desserts at Amber Indian. I went to the lunch buffet yesterday, and the gulab jamun was perfect. They were warm and flavorful, with a good amount of cardamom. Good desserts on an Indian lunch buffet (at least in Indianapolis) seems like such a rarity that I am always impressed when I find them.