Inside story: how our atmospheric restaurant has now become a takeaway joint because of coronavirus
Since the hospitality industry has come to a standstill, many businesses are trying to keep their heads above water. After all, we don’t know how long this hospitality lockdown will last. And now I work in a takeaway joint instead of an atmospheric Italian restaurant. And that’s hard—very hard.
A profession in its own right
Don’t get me wrong. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with take away & delivery. Nothing is as valuable as a good takeaway or delivery joint in your neighborhood. Takeaway businesses know what they’re doing, and they do it well. What do my employers do well? Run a restaurant. Have two hundred people come through the door for an evening of good food, with front-of-house staff who make sure those two hundred people have a fantastic evening they won’t soon forget. I love my job, ‘playing restaurant’. But now my beloved job looks a lot less fun. Namely, like this:
The phone calls
The evening starts like any other hospitality evening; before my evening shift, I arrive at 4:30 p.m. for staff dinner. Instead of sitting together as a large team and discussing how many reservations and drinks receptions we have that evening, and whether the private dining room has been rented out, we talk about coronavirus. One and a half meters apart.
There’s no other subject of conversation. All our pizza makers have family in Italy; fortunately, their families are healthy. I eat my pasta and, right on cue at 5:00 p.m., the first phone call comes in. This is looking good! This is the second day people can pick up pizzas from us or have them delivered at home by Uber Eats, and the first day was a huge success. The phone kept ringing and there was a constant stream of couriers. Today is different.
Empty, dark and quiet
After the first few quick calls and Uber orders, things gradually get quieter and quieter. The orders stop coming in and it starts to look increasingly bleak. The few lights we have are on, but our restaurant is normally lit mainly by cozy candles. Lighting 50 candles just for myself and the pizza makers seems unnecessary, but as a result, it looks rather gloomy in here. The opposite of what we normally are: full, atmospheric and loud. Now it’s empty, dark and quiet. The only lively part of the business is the kitchen, with its singing pizza makers, but they too gradually grow quieter.
Is it worth it?
From restaurant to takeaway joint—is it worth it? The first evening was a success, the second evening much less so. Tonight we’re going into our third evening, and we hope things pick up a little again. But should we actually want that? So far, it was a logical story. Our refrigerators were still full, so we could nicely empty them through deliveries to prevent waste. But is it wise to do new shopping next week? Amsterdammers can’t afford to have food delivered every evening. Besides, there’s a huge amount of competition.
NOW scheme
The government is doing its best to limit the damage. For example, it introduced the NOW scheme: Emergency Measure Bridging for Job Retention. If you expect a loss of turnover of at least 20%, you may be eligible. For three months, the government will then cover 90% of wage costs. However, there are some caveats. That 90% only applies if 100% of your turnover disappears. Since we are generating turnover, that doesn’t apply to us. Will it be worth selling a few pizzas and then receiving a smaller percentage toward our wage costs? It’s a difficult consideration. Moreover, the government calculates turnover declines from March 1. The hospitality shutdown only came into effect on March 15. We didn’t experience any decline in turnover in the weeks before that. What about those first two weeks of March?
Hang in there a little longer
This is how things are going for us and many other hospitality businesses right now. Uncertainly, looking from day to day at what happens and how best to respond. Our refrigerators are almost empty, we don’t know when this shutdown will be lifted, and everything is uncertain. The empty dining room is a sad sight. The photos we see on Instagram of people at home with our pizzas make it somewhat enjoyable. But my goodness, how I miss our full restaurant. Hopefully it won’t last long. Until then: support the hospitality industry, pick up food, have it delivered. Doing your groceries? Then do it at the greengrocer and artisan bakery instead of panic-buying at the local supermarket or wholesaler. We need you!
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