Why 95% of US Restaurants Suck and How We Learn Not to Notice

JAY’S NOTE, January 2009: This was our first serious post addressing the death-grip that the industrial food complex has on our lives. In the years since it was written, we at the Linkery have drastically changed the way we source our ingredients, to bring them much more in line with how all of us ultimately want to eat (and need to eat).

We haven’t used a broadline distributor since I wrote this. More importantly, the thought of us serving farmed salmon or commodity veal or duck is amazing to me now — we’ve gotten to a point where we just don’t work from thpse parts of the food chain, and by now I’ve mostly forgotten that we once did. Without dissing our 2006 selves, or anyone who chooses to eat or serve commodity meats, I am happy that those ingredients are only distant memories to us.

Additionally, we’ve learned a lot since this post about farming, distribution, local economies and operating a restaurant. You’ll find much more depth in more recent posts on this blog. But this post remains here as a document of where we were, and of the depth of our dismay in trying to feed people real food, when we were desperate to learn how we could procure more ingredients with integrity.

When I first traveled to Australia, and was blown away by the quality of the food there — even at corner shops and cafes — I couldn’t understand why we in the US couldn’t, or didn’t, have food of this quality at all prices (as opposed to just at the finest restaurants). Yes, I sensed that Oz’s agriculture is more local, and that due to their smallish population and huge land area, they were simply going to have more rural land and better food. But it’s still possible to get good ingredients in the US — why didn’t most restaurants do this?

After a year and a half of us working to create a restaurant with food of that quality, I know a lot more about the obstacles to doing so.

To my surprise — though it shouldn’t have been a surprise — the leading obstacle to flavorful, affordable restaurant food is the success of a cooperative effort between big factory food producers (like, say, Tyson) and big distributors like Sysco and US Foodservice. These organizations, along with complicit groups like the National Restaurant Association are furthering their financial interests by changing the world so that it comprises:

  1. A homogenous mass market of indistinguishable food consumers, who know and care nothing about the flavor, quality or history of their food. That’s what they need you to be, so that you won’t notice or care that the steaks at Outback taste the same as the steaks at Applebee’s (or where-ever), except for the proprietary spice mix they shower everything with at Outback.
  2. Food production facilities that output 100% standardized meat and processed foods, with maximum productivity and minimum cost to the business (regardless of the cost to their workers, their neighbors, or our environment). This food is bland, cheap, and often genetically bred to contain the most “useful” size and composition for these industrial (restaurant) customers.
  3. Producers and distributors working together to serve as corporate food aggregators, who together handle every element of food production, processing, preparation and cooking up until the final stage of heating the item for somebody’s actual consumption. In other words, the idea is that Tyson and Sysco do all the work of creating chickens and pigs, turning them into meat cuts, flavoring, packaging, and sometimes cooking these meat cuts, and delivering them portioned and prepackaged to restaurants. The restaurant’s job in this model is to “market” a “concept”, develop an appropriate menu of these “food servings”, and “cook” and serve these products as part of a “completely integrated guest experience.”

Yeah, that’s why I don’t eat out much. And why, when I do eat out, I’d rather eat at an unassuming place like, say, Apertivo, instead of at many of the more well-publicized restaurants that have great ambience but basically buy into the above model. You can taste it.

The two big distributors are Sysco and USFoods. As far as I can tell, they’re the Hertz and Avis of the industry, respectively. (Not the Windows and Linux, by any means.) Sysco is so ubiquitous, and Sysco reps are so overbearing, that we’ve just refused to deal with them for anything. Some perfectly good restaurants use Sysco (and we might have to use Sysco some day, too), but a lot of really bad ones use Sysco to buy everything. As in, everything on the menu comes in from Sysco prepackaged and frozen, and the restaurant just fries, sautees, or heats up the stuff, puts it on a plate, and serves it. These restaurants of course are Sysco’s version of Shangri-La, and Sysco works night and day to make sure all restaurants are like this.

USFoods people are, in our experience, a little more human. I assume they have to be nicer ‘cause they aren’t as big as Sysco, and hope to pick up businesses (like us) that just can’t bear to deal with Sysco. But ultimately USFoods wants to be just as big and strong as Sysco, and would like every restaurant to serve the same bland and branded “food”. Just with a different brand.

There are other smaller players in the industry, of course. We tried to do business with one of them, Vistar, but they wouldn’t even take our orders. I’m guessing they need to focus on big accounts to grow to be big, at which point they’ll seek out incremental growth by dealing with small restaurants and trying to convert them to restaurants that serve only Vistar products. Go Vistar sales team.

Anyway, we had a typical problem with USFoods today. It wasn’t a big deal for a small business (though it was sure irritating). But it illustrates so well what all of us are up against, I’m inspired to write about it.

***

USFoods hates dealing with the Linkery because we don’t buy that many things from them. They want to sell us everything — that’s their business. They want to sell us the produced, processed, flavored, and sometimes precooked meats that they build their business on. This is how they make their money, and in their mind it’s a good deal for everyone — their economy of scale allows them to buy meat at a lower price, from huge producers whose scale allows them to produce meat at a lower price, via processors whose scale and scientific technology allow them to synthesize new variations and deliver them at a lower price…all totally standardized and portion-controlled for maximum cost efficiency for everyone.

Instead, we buy meat, fish, produce, and bread from local suppliers. These suppliers aren’t perfectly homogenous or perfectly consistent. They’re small businesses, cutting meat or baking bread and so forth every day. We pick these distributors and producers because they care about what they do and work hard to provide great quality stuff.

A quick digression: as a side note, the quality of what we get from smaller local places varies, usually between very good and excellent, and the size of different portions vary a lot, too (in the outside world, not every animal is exactly the same size). They and we both do our best to stay on top of it, and usually we catch anything that does make it to us that’s undersized or mediocre. Sometimes we don’t, and our guests get inadequate or mediocre meals, which is embarrassing, and then we go into crazy hyperdrive figuring out where we made a mistake and getting everything squared away. The good side of this is that we’re small enough that we have a lot of regular guests who will let us know if their meal is not up to snuff, and also that we’re small enough that we can react fairly quickly, and be knocking on our distributors’ doors the next morning. I can understand that larger places might not have those advantages, and maybe that’s why many of them use the big distributors. So maybe blandness is a natural result of size. On the other hand, we don’t have to worry about their challenges, so we won’t.

The most important reason, though, that we’ve picked our distributors is because they know there’s more to food than portion and price.

That said, there are a few products where we actually prefer to use huge national distributors. A couple of our meats (duck and veal) are only available to us frozen, and once you get into the world of frozen meats, USFoods’ stuff is as good tasting as we’ve found. Additionally, we use a couple processed foods in serious bulk — mustard and sauerkraut. (We are a sausage place, sort of.)

In both cases our favorite tasting brand (Beaver and Vienna, respectively) is only available (as far as we know) through big distributors, and other brands through smaller distributors are much more expensive. If we buy the other sauerkraut at Restaurant Depot or the local grocery store, we’ll have to raise the price of our choucroute dish by a couple bucks and it may not be as good. That doesn’t serve you well, so we accept that life entails compromise and we deal with the devil. (Oh, and our excellent linen-like paper napkins come from them, too. We love those.)

Our USFoods sales rep is, I think, actually a nice guy working for a crap company. but given how often they bully us for not ordering enough from them, I wonder why they sell to us at all. I don’t think they’re legally required to, so I guess they just have a policy that they don’t let customers go. I bet there’s a poster on a wall somewhere at USFoods HQ saying “There are only three types of people in the world: customers, former customers, and future customers.” Or something like that.

Anyway, we order from them about once a week, and they deliver in the morning. They often show up right as our morning people are arriving, about 11am, and just dump the goods and leave. Then we see that they’ve added a bunch of stuff that we haven’t ordered (and, yes, charged us for it), just to “make it worth their while to deliver.” We call our rep and complain, and he basically says that if we’re not buying all of our stuff through them, we’re lucky they even bother with us. I guess he’s right, in a way, ‘cause we keep ordering napkins, sauerkraut, and mustard from them.

***

Today at 10, I got a message from our USFoods rep, who had called at 9:30 in the morning. I was zooming around trying to make a train to San Luis Obispo and missed the call. The upshot was that their driver “didn’t have time” to come back to our place when someone was going to be there, so he was going to leave the delivery in our parking lot, and we could just get it when we got there, at 11am.

Now, this is food. Sitting in the sun for nearly two hours. And it was hot today, particularly on a black top parking lot. And of course the food was vulnerable to foraging by people and animals. I wasn’t at the shop, and couldn’t check the order, so I still don’t know exactly what was in it — but still. It’s impolite, dangerous, a violation of health codes, and most importantly, incredibly disrepectful of you, the person who’s in line to eat this food.

When I got the message I immediately called our rep and left a message that we’d be throwing out all the perishables and not paying for them. So there’s no harm from the incident other than just the lack of respect to the food (and, by extension, all of us, as people who eat the food).

I reckon that, sooner or later, we’d have been fired as their customer and have to find a new provider of sauerkraut and mustard. After today, we’ll just end up firing them first.

And there will possibly be a few of more of our guests’ favorite things we’re unable to get.

This has happened before — that’s why we can’t get Morehouse’s great-tasting dijon mustard — and it will continue to happen. I hope that folks will be understanding if we have to switch to a lesser quality napkin, just because we want to carry meat from a local meatcutter/distributor.

It’s a wacky world in the “foodservice” (that’s what they call it, which pretty much says it all) business.

***

If you know of any good suppliers who aren’t in the Sysco/Vistar/USFoods mold, I’d love to hear about them. We tried switching to Tarantino’s distribution service, but even though they’re local we were too small to be of interest to them. Which is a shame, because we actually don’t mind paying a premium to deal with real people who will work with us in getting us the goods we need, if we can find people like that.

If there’s no distributor out there who cares about good food, maybe we’ll end up starting one. That would make it easier for small restaurants that want to serve quality stuff, which would be good for everyone. We don’t know anything about that business, of course, but I’m convinced amateurism is usually an asset. We’ll add that to our “possible project” list. We often find the most satisfying solution to these problems is just to DIY.

Excitingly, Mars has started to make some of our own mustards — the real DIY solution — though we’re not yet able to produce enough to meet all of our needs. And sauerkraut is a bit of a different story.

And if we can’t live without the great napkins, Sysco might just sell them to us. I might just poke my own eyes out with a hot poker, though, it’s a hard call.

***

Back to my trip to Oz. While I think these problems are most prominent in the US, when I was back in Australia in March I saw that Sysco and lousy food were gaining a foothold in places I hadn’t noticed them before, like some nicer neighborhood pubs.

Watch out world! As usual, it looks like we in the US are not totally exceptional – we’re merely on the leading edge of industrializing and dehumanizing everything. Eventually these economics will prove hard to resist for your local, too.

***

If you’d like to help save real food so you can eat it at restaurants, some of the best things you can do are:

  1. Find out who your restaurants buy their food from, and patronize places that buy fresh food from real people.
  2. Be understanding if that great little café or sandwich shop near your house doesn’t carry a certain mass-market product you really like. Coca-cola Distributing has a 15 case minimum order. US Foods won’t take an order less than $500 (and even then they’ll leave it to rot in the parking lot if it’s not big enough.) A lot of small places can’t make orders like that, and so they can’t carry big-market goods.
  3. Make an effort to really taste your food when you eat out. Paticularly do this if the restaurant has a great reputation, a stellar concept, great ambience, fancy food presentation (particularly with nifty garnishes) and/or lots of attractive people working and eating there. Are you being distracted so you won’t notice that the food is the same flavorless stuff you get most other places? A lot of high-end places use heavy sauces, sweet glazes and marinades, and/or butter and garlic to disguise the fact that their principal ingredients are useless. Midrange places often do this with a fryer.
  4. If you’re eating at a place that cares about their food, and you get a subpar meal, let ‘em know (politely, of course). Because this restaurant’s food is not mass produced, they have more variation in their products and have to work harder to make it all excellent. They’re happy to do it, but you can help them by calling attention to mistakes. Rest assured, they appreciate it.
  5. Pay a little more for real food. You’re paying to help keep these businesses viable that are working outside of the mainstream channels. If these businesses go away then we’ll only be left with flavorless, nutrutrionless food, and we’ll all have no choice but to be fat, unhealthy, and unsatisfied.
  6. On the other hand, don’t pay a lot more. Companies that charge a fortune for the real stuff are basically just exploiting the situation the same as the bland-food purveyors, and don’t want anything to change. Everyone should be able to eat real food, not just affluent folks who purchase it as a luxury brand.

Wow – this is a bit longer than I intended when I started out. Good thing it’s a long train ride to SLO. By the way, did you know that the Burbank airport is named after Bob Hope? Or maybe just the train station next to the Burbank airport. I’m not sure.