How to Reopen a Shuttered Restaurant in 35 Simple Steps
Here’s How it Went Down Last Winter…
Three cooks had tested positive for Covid 19, and executing the holiday menu orders was left to me and a part-time cook, after the proper cleansing and testing, of course. My panic was profound.“I can’t get sick, I can’t get anyone else sick, I’m worried about those who are already sick, and I have to compete these 40 orders not just safely but deliciously, too.” I couldn’t imagine ghosting on someone’s holiday dinner during an already eerie and botched holiday season. The pressure was intense.I felt compelled to schedule a temporary shuttering of Taberna de Haro, both to staunch the bleeding of cash (the restaurant lost $51,000.00 in less than one month) and to cease the clenching in my chest. I locked the door on December 23 with weary relief and childlike sadness. A dark and empty restaurant is a weepy sight.
The following days were filled with the scrubbing (again) and emptying of a 2400 square foot restaurant. Give food away, throw food away, turn off 10 of the 12 refrigeration units, switch off the gas, program the heat to 40º, put up signs informing of the closure, change the answering machine message. Update the website, Google, Instagram, Open Table, and Facebook. Halt the bread deliveries, trash removal, linen service, and standing orders with all purveyors. Store the patio tables and chairs in the darkened dining room, bring the heat lamps in, take the propane burners home, push the planters flush with the building so the plows can clear the sidewalk of snow.Tell the pest service to conduct outside maintenance only.
Call the one party who reserved for New Year’s Eve to tell them there is no party.
My lungs unfurled their taut grip on my heart by about January 10, and it was time to kick into action and prepare for reopening day. The chosen date of January 19 had seemed symbolically optimistic, the eve of the inauguration, the dawn of a new era. Alas, not much had changed except that soon we would no longer hail to a chief who was comfortable inciting a bloody, lethal insurrection and seemed particularly fond of disregarding our cherished Constitution. Everything else was the same. Frighteningly high infection rates, crippled hospitals, cloistered customers, dwindling relief for the average citizen, and a new strain of the coronavirus bearing down. Add to that the abject anguish of witnessing flaccid politicians who fear the ousted despot more than they revere democracy. I postponed the opening for another week.
After Devra First wrote an article in the Boston Globe equating takeout patronage with civic duty - yours truly was pictured on the front page, scowling - I felt a flicker of hope. (Link below). Ever the glass-half-full girl, I felt confident Bostonians would rally and order food from neighborhood restaurants quite literally on the brink of extinction. I had survived on takeout business last spring by forgoing my pay, using my boyfriend’s free labor, and employing a tiny team of three cooks to work in the kitchen. No dishwasher, no servers, no delivery service - and definitely no profit. Thankfully the summer was bountiful, but now I’d need takeout business to increase by 100% if Taberna was to succeed. I left the deep breathing behind and kicked into high gear. Always start with a list, I reminded myself. It went something like this:
One week out:
Start making decisions.
1). Bootstrap it with a small menu and two cooks or, take a chance and go
big? Small option is less risky but might prove boring, limited, and
unattractive to customers. Big option is more exciting and appealing,
but a lot more work and a huge financial risk if it fails to bring in the
revenue needed to support it.
2). How will I stretch the remaining cash? There’s enough in the bank for
two small payrolls (excluding me of course), two months’ rent, and a bit
more in case the world ends. I need to throw Eversource and National
Grid each a bone so they don’t turn off services or rape my good credit.
Or both. Even though they are not supposed to. But I do owe them a
combined $18,000.00. Maybe the MGCC grant will come through.
Maybe I’ll get a second draw PPP loan. Maybe congress will act swiftly.
3). How much product should I bring in? Stay true to my heavy
wine focus and order cool new Spanish wines to offer? The cellar is
emptier than it has ever been and needs some gaps filled. 60 days to
pay - going to take a chance and buy. Must order meat, fish,vegetables,
and pantry items, the raw materials that need to be paid for in 15 days
whether you’ve sold them or not.Just going to assume revenue will
exceed these expenses…
4). Who should work? Consider longevity vs. need? Leave those able to
collect UA at home and those who have been denied for unintelligible
reasons get to come back to work? Schedule a staff Zoom to assess.
5). Should we offer cocktails or just wine? If we opt for a full bar, we’ll need
a bartender, a stocked liquor room, and daily-made juices. So I’m
thinking no cocktails.
Six days out:
Make phone calls.
6). Call the bread, linen, trash, and pest services to reinstate. Adjust
down.
7). Call the repair man to try to fix the hot water heater again, but get ready
to choose a replacement if it’s not possible - from a company that takes
credit cards.
8). Call each employee to check in again and see who needs most to
work.
9). Call the bank to get the very latest on the PPP loan information.
10). Call Open Table for assistance programming a restaurant that will be
open - but not for reservations.
11). Call purveyors to say I’m back; set new receiving schedules.
Five days out:
Put things in motion.
12). Take a formal wine inventory
13). Write the menu and wine list; send to employees
14). Create new work lists for cooks
15). Make schedules for servers and cooks
16). Post the menus - website, Instagram, Single Platform, Facebook,
Toast.
17). Program Toast POS - menu, new schedule, payment, price changes.
18). Order takeout materials and flagellate yourself for forgetting to do this
sooner
Four days out:
Accelerate
19). Plan specials
20). Broadcast- social media, newsletter
21). Bring back two cooks to clean, restart refrigeration units, light pilots,
throw stuff away, organize
Three days out:
Cue the preparations
22). Place orders from meat, fish, vegetable, and wine purveyors.
23). Organize walk-in and pantry to accommodate menu changes
Two days out:
Make it happen - there’s no turning back now.
24). Receive the goods, at different times.
25). Get the basic prep done - stocks, marinades, potatoes, spice rubs,
vinaigrettes.
26). Scour the dining rooms
27). Plan the flow of people and materials
One day out:
Action!
28). Make everything on the menu except the fish.
Today is the day:
29). Receive and cut the fish
30). Write a work list for the servers to set up dining room for safety and
efficiency
31). Call Toast and spend 60 minutes on the phone because the 6 year old
POS monitor chose TODAY to die. Switch out monitor, reprogram
printers, reprogram takeout order-firing
32). Turn on the outside lights and let the games begin
33). Check email for customer inquiries/orders and see that the PPP
money has come through
34). Truly exhale for the first time since the cold set in back in December
35). Refrain from hugging the first customer that walks through the door.
Link to Boston Globe article by Devra First:
https://www.bostonglobe.com/2021/01/14/lifestyle/get-takeout-its-your-civic-duty/
By Deborah Hansen
Chef-Owner-Sommeliere
Taberna de Haro
999 Beacon St.
Brookline, MA 02446
617-277-8272
@TabernadeHaro