Dining Out Now: What to Expect

Normal is as normal does.

by

Well hellooo nurse. Someone dropped a plate of well-prepared hot food in front of me yesterday (like, a real plate) and I immediately thought: oh yeaaah, that's what it's like. I wasn't eating from a paper box, I wasn't balancing fries and burger bites in my car, I wasn't on my couch under what has become a faintly soy sauce smelling blanket. I was at a restaurant. 

Because of course, it was The Day. June 10 marks Phase 3 of the turning of the dial, when restaurants and bars would be allowed to open indoor service (in conjunction with the June 1 patio permission) as we re-open the state and hopefully save some of our restaurants. 

I will be honest, I was skittish. I hadn't eaten on a patio yet even, but felt I needed to see what was happening out there. Originally, I reserved an outdoor table at 6Smith in Wayzata, but when the weather seemed iffy, they called me to ask if it was ok to be moved indoors. I made the leap. Though, I did ask to be seated near the open door.

From start to finish, every single employee and manager had on face masks. Tables were well spaced, and I watched managers talk to each table, standing at an appropriate distance. Employees could be seen continually spraying and wiping down doors, tables, all hard surfaces.

I'd say that 80% of people who walked in were wearing a mask. A gaggle of teens and some suits were the ones I noticed lacking. The eaters around us were couples, business people, ladies who lunch, seniors, whisppersnappers, and the like who all seemed to be, like us, figuring out when to raise and when to lower the mask. When to pull out our own Wet Wipes. I think we hit our groove by the end of lunch. We all watched each other. 

In fact, it felt a little like we were all involved in a strange flash mob or line dance in which we weren't exactly sure what the moves were. A vague muscle memory was guiding us, but for sure there was a pop-and-lock move we were all supposed to hit, right? 

And I think that has to do with trust, because we all have to trust each other if we're going to do this. The eaters have to trust the restaurant, that they'll truly practice all the ramped-up cleaning habits and follow their own rules. The restaurant has to trust the eaters, that they'll abide by the rules and not throw self-important wrenches into the system (dear shiny-guy named Chad, welcome to the time when the customer is not always right). And we all have to trust each other that we'll keep falling forward and not lose our cool if the menu prices change, or a rain cloud soaks a patio, or someone asks you to please not push tables together, or you have to ask someone to leave because their table time is up. Because if we've learned anything, I hope it's to unclench from those personal small things, in order to see the bigger picture. The wider view here, is let's all keep each other safely moving forward. 

With that in mind, there are a few things you should be ready for:

Reservations and what that really means:

The goal of the State in asking for rezzies is to collect a source for contact tracing in case of an outbreak. Some places are using systems like Open Table, Tock, and Resy to book for them, others are only taking calls on the actual phone. If you book online, make sure you read all the words on the screen, I've seen some places that have a reservation cancellation policy charging you $10/head if you bail within 30 minutes of your time, and I've seen places noting that they won't penalize you for bailing, just please don't come if you're feeling at all sick. Read all their rules.

Many bigger patios are choosing to go the walk-in rezzie route, like Brit's and Lola's Lakehouse. You can't call ahead for a spot, but you can show up and they'll create a "reservation" for you by taking your name and number, and putting you in a table if it's open. Sure they might end up turning people away, but they have more control over the fluidity of timing. Plenty of places are allowing both. Secure your table with certainty by making the reservation, or if you are a spontaneous git like myself, who likes to pop in and take a chance, you might be able to grab an open table for the price of your phone number. 

Time Limits:

The CDC recommendation is that these are not three hour meals. In fact, not even two hour meals. Your reservation for indoor or patio table service will likely last either 75 minutes or 90 minutes. The rough guide, echoed in CoV Edina's rules, was 75 minutes during the day service (before 4pm), and 90 minutes for evening (after 4pm). Time spent is a critical factor in the spread of the virus. Giving yourself that frame of mind before you go will be helpful when the server drops the check and your first reaction is: wait, lets get another round. It's likely, hopefully, that there is another table booked after yours and the crew now has to maneuver crazy cleaning acrobatics in between guests. Take your camping to the wilderness, bub. 

Service Charges: 

Here's what. Not many of our restaurants are chugging at full steam yet. They are trying to figure out staffing levels, and getting everyone on staff paid enough to make it worth their time to come back to what amounts to smaller seatings with higher cleaning protocols (read: more work). Many restaurants are taking this moment of redefinition, and moving away from tipping which centers the cash flow into one area only. By adding a service charge, like 15% at Surly Beer Hall or 20% at Rock Elm Tavern, in lieu of tipping, the restaurant is able to spread that money among the whole staff or use it to cover the extra face masks and sanitizer now needed. You might also see service charges framed differently, like a specific 3% charge to support PPE for staff or a simple $1.50 a head charge like the one at Octo Fishbar. 

p.s. you may feel the need to tip your server anyway (so MN) but just remember that the majority of restaurants have moved to cashless contactless transactions, so no one can give you change. And I might further point out that cash money is dirty, but yeah, I'd take your 50.

What Means ... Patio?

Not all patio seating will be full service, some places, like Pig Ate My Pizza are creating what's basically a patio picnic area. Make your rezzie, show up and order at the window, grab drinks and find a table. When your order is called, you go get it and return to your table to eat. If you are someone with an 80 year old German mom who wants to get out in the world, needs a drink, but doesn't really want a lot of people coming to the table to talk at her or bring lots of plates: This is the ticket. Lat14 in Golden Valley and Centro in Nordeast are all on this same plan, so they've got you covered with pizza, noodles, tacos, and booze (correct, the four main food groups). 

What else? Mind the 6 ft rule, wash your hands, and smile with your eyes. Oh yeah, don't stop getting takeout if you want your places to live. Zen Box Izakaya, Saint Dinette, Pajarito, Tori Ramen, Lion's Tap, they are all among those sticking to takeout only right now and they could use your continued support. I know a lot of you don't feel like you can trust dining out or others who dine out, and that's understandable. Man, if we do this right we might be able to prove otherwise.

We've rejiggered the Takeout Guide to be a Takeout, Patios, and Indoor Dining Guide to tip you in the right directions. For sure that is a living thing, as the world and its information changes every day while we swirl in and out of the doc making tweaks. We're only trying to make it better. On that, you can trust me.