DO THE RIGHT THING

This is where we find ourselves now: thick in the trenches of a new wave of dining in New York City. And for the most part, it's an evolution that is working.

Peace. Here’s hoping to meet Spike Lee. Aka Shelton Jackson Lee. Aka loving fan and supporter of this fabulous city we call “New York”. My name is Vish. Aka Vishwas. Aka devout follower and humble servant to this beautiful, irreplaceable industry we call Hospitality. We’re about to get into an ode to outdoor dining. Aka, this is hoping to manifest REALITY.*

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The Endurance brought Murph’s father back to her.

So, to bring New York back to us: we must endure.

I miss Anthony Bourdain.

I am always bewildered by the fact that after 4.5 billion years of Earth, 3.5 billion years of life on this planet, 6 million years of our ancestry, and 200,000 years of modern humanity we have only perfected the idea of one place: restaurants.

There are broken homes and failing countries, but even within those spaces lie ties to these places we share. For a meal. For sustenance. At literally any time of day, in any mood. Whether we are happy or sad or mad or stressed or depressed or elated or celebrating or bored or unsure: we go out to eat.

It’s remarkable.

Although a perfected idea, unfortunately, nothing can be perfect. And by absolutely no fault of their own, restaurants got put in the ring with Mike at his peak a few years ago. Problem was, restaurants were not even given basic training. Neither the restaurant nor anyone who worked in them knew how to fight. None of us did. We were locked down and they were locked down and locked out. And in that pre-vaccinated summer of 2020, which warmed things up everywhere but inside those dining rooms, a lifeline was gifted. An exchange was made: parking spots for outdoor dining.

However, technically, it wasn’t really a gift. A gift is something given with no strings attached. Anything else, is an investment. The City invested square footage. Restaurants invested literally everything else. Imagine working every atom, molecule, and cell in your body for years on end trying to make it to the Show. You almost give up but you never give up and all that sweat finally pays off and you get drafted and you practice hard and study the film and finally — finally — are told you are in the lineup; you play some games, maybe play a few years, and your dreams are no longer just dreams. You have arrived. And then, all of a sudden, you’re traded to a different sport? No consent. No preseason. No support, no guidance, no experience playing this new game at all.

Even Bo wouldn’t know what to do.

But restaurants did it. Somehow. Well, some of them. Many were benched and eventually cut from the team. Now, we’ve all watched our favorite places and players fade over time — this isn’t a new phenomenon — but it is one we hadn’t experienced so universally and so quickly. The restaurants that remain in this beautiful dark twisted fantasy of a city have now extended their magic to the streets. Since outdoor dining reconfigured the blocks we know and love, any of us can have a patio outside our homes. In a city notoriously selective in its inclusion, now we all have access to a seat to look out from and a table to be looked at lovingly by people who love us. No longer is this privilege relegated to a certain tax bracket; now we can all sit outside and watch the sun set west of Great Jones Street.Anyone can meet anyone and anything where there was once simply moving metal in slumber.

Regardless of your native language, this is something we can firmly label “a win”.

In the midst of a globally upending pandemic, they — we — crafted a sliver of safety. A lifeline that allowed our beloved city to reopen, in a time where being open was unsafe. So now they — we — are making the best out of a landscape that loves us and want us and needs us while simultaneously battling against a cohort of people who don’t want to support us. They is me, and me is them. I am a student of this industry and a fervent fanatic of what restaurants do to a city. They are the first and final frontier to a city’s culture and identity. As it currently stands, our city’s culture and identity hang in the balance. In a time of record inflation, sky-rotting (yes, rotting) rents, and cost of living, it would make sense to me that we continue to support the largest industry we have in New York: hospitality. And not just support it, but nurture it. To help restaurants evolve in ways we might not have previously thought possible or feasible. This is where we find ourselves now: thick in the trenches of a new wave of dining in New York City. And for the most part, it’s an evolution that is working.

Are there flaws? Of course. Are there things that could be better? Absolutely. Are there patios and vestibules across the boroughs that are abusing the system? I mean, this is a system built by humans, so, obviously. But that shouldn’t frighten us. It shouldn’t deter us, and although it will frustrate us, we must endure. Trust me, I understand the seeds of these frustrations. Certain establishments are not considerate to their residential neighbors; others are encroaching on differently-abled parking spots and on city blocks, blocking emergency response. All valid, all things that should be looked at and addressed. But overall, we need to change and adapt. We need to set laws and rules and construct a system of regulation. I’m on board with all of that. But I will not concede that outdoor dining is the wrong way forward.

See, this is not a city most of us live in for our apartments. Lockdown cemented that in our heads. We pay to play in this chaos for everything outside our apartments. And a big part of that outside? Restaurants. Bars. Cafes. Think about it: when did it really start feeling like we were coming out of the most intense parts of this pandemic? I’ll answer for myself: it was when we could go out to eat again. I experienced this first-hand as a patron and as an industry employee. We saw each other again. Reread that— we saw each other. After so long. And we hugged for the first time in a long time. And we laughed and cried IRL instead of over the astoundingly universal experience of Zoom. And we made new friends and started new relationships and cemented old ones, and: we became regulars again. It is no coincidence that most of these reunions occurred in the hallowed bars, dining rooms, and patios of New York City.

There’s something energizing about being acknowledged at a restaurant you love. Like the soft vibration and dim glow your phone makes when you plug it in to charge. It’s not the highest voltage, but it’s needed. And it makes you feel comfort. A signal that you’ve been seen, heard, appreciated, and acknowledged. Nowadays, the square footage of those arenas has grown so much larger. My 34-seat indoor restaurant currently seats nearly 90 between the inside and outside. I’ve been able to more than double my staff. And most importantly, we’ve been able to be the space for these moments, celebrations, and reunions for so, so many more people. It feels... like a fantasy. To be able to bring the gift of hospitality to exponentially more guests. It’s not easy by any—ANY—means. But it is fulfilling. I now better understand why your family gets so happy when they feed you. It is providing a visceral service and it shouldn’t be taken lightly.

As a city— as a society — we need to decide if we are going to forge a new New York, or keep ourselves caught in outdated ideas and ideals. If there is a pandemic phrase that boils my skin the most it is “back to normal”. Back? Back to what? 6.5 million deaths, countless closures, and immeasurable turmoil later and we are, what? Supposed to ignore it and pick up where we left off in March of 2020? Well, for the 6.5 million we lost and all their loved ones that remain, that is not an option. For the millions displaced, relocated, unemployed, and still forging ahead, that is not an option. There is no going back. And if we want to respect those that we have lost and the places that have shuttered, then we should not and cannot “go back to normal”.

We rightfully should never forget 9/11, and in the same exact vein we cannot “go back” to a time before Covid. Things have changed. The Earth has changed. That means we should as well. There are no obvious silver linings in this playbook, and our only respectable choice now is to move forward, create the silver linings, and construct something new. Outdoor dining checks these boxes. I ask you, in our lifetime, has there been such a drastic edit to our day-to-day than masks and outdoor dining? When was the last time an article of clothing entered the zeitgeist so prominently that you coordinated it with the rest of your outfit? When was the last time that a development in your interaction with the physical spaces in the city you live in caused such a drastic shift? Outdoor dining in New York City is nothing short of a miracle. The greatest evolution this city has seen in my entire 31 years of lifetime, with a distant second being boarding the subway with a smartphone.

All that ridiculous rambling you just read is to say: outdoor dining is the future of New York City. Outdoor dining is the future of cities worldwide. Outdoor dining is taking the streets and giving it back to the people. Outdoor dining is making it so lifers and newcomers are able to experience the same city in a new way. It is the key to a brighter tomorrow. One that includes the immigrants and artists that carry our society on their backs. One that openly decides that tables outside are more important than someone’s car. One that understands that the more places, spaces, and ways you can feed yourself supersede any other alternative we currently have.

The icing on the cake? There is currently $180 million of allocated Restaurant Relief Fund money sitting unused and undistributed right now in New York City. There are currently thousands of restaurants that can benefit massively from those funds being distributed. Those same thousands of restaurants are also currently able to expand their dining rooms, serve more people, cut more paychecks, create more memories, express more of themselves, and bring new life to the city that was forced to sleep a couple of years ago. So it’s high time to do the right thing: legalize outdoor dining permanently and distribute RRF promptly and equitably.

The Revolution will no longer just be televised. It will also be served to you on a plate and in a glass as you sit at a cafe table with friends on a street in New York City. It can only be New York or Nowhere, if we make sure that nowhere else can do what New York does. It is time, once again, that we do it.

With love, indefinitely =

Vishwas Wesley

General Manager

Jolene

*[currently spinning] ‘Church’ - De La Soul (Ft. Spike Lee)