Some big, bold chains should be lauded, not spurned
Say the words "corporate restaurant" in the company of certain restaurant-centric individuals, and chances are you'll start a chain reaction, so to speak, of militant opinions on a very touchy subject.
Among those opinions is the overriding notion that "corporate restaurants" are the Barnes & Nobleization of the restaurant industry. The invasion of the suburbs by out-of-state restaurant chains was bad enough, say indignant trend-watchers, but things worsened when Seattle, a savvy city that should know better, opened its arms to embrace the likes of California-based Cheesecake Factory and the Oceanaire Seafood Room — a slick outfit out of Minneapolis.
Diners are regularly lining up at the Cheesecake Factory (recently cloned in Bellevue Square); others are fine-dining in droves at the high-rolling Oceanaire (with sister stores in Minneapolis and D.C.). This fact has some suggesting this city has gone to hell in a sourdough-bread basket. Doomsayers claim that these, and other deep-pocketed out-of-town chains, will kill off local independent restaurants and that those who deign to eat at such outlets should be roasted to a crisp on a wood-fired rotisserie.
Well, fire up the apple wood and prepare to roast me to a succulent turn, because this restaurant critic is here to (gulp!) put in a good word for the "bad guys." To do so at a time when independent restaurants are reeling from an economic slowdown should put me in the crosshairs of guns both big and small. But I'll stand here bravely to make my point, which is this:
My heart — and much of my personal-dining budget — goes out to owner-operated restaurants whose weekly intake may mean the life or death of their business, but voicing disdain for a reputable, well-run, multi-unit operation solely on the basis of its out-of-town ownership is nothing short of snobbery.
To dismiss restaurants whose corporate offices are elsewhere is akin to the classic kindergarten rant, "Get off my property!" Do I hear anybody screaming about home-grown clones like Palomino? What about Anthony's, Red Robin or Cucina! Cucina!? Does local status grant automatic immunity?
My contention is there's room enough for a multitude of restaurants regardless of provenance. It's important to acknowledge that diners' tastes differ greatly depending on pocketbook, palate and perception.
I urge one and all to recognize that a cloned restaurant is not necessarily a "bad" restaurant and in many ways may have much to offer, not least of all the comfort of consistency and a taste of "home" for less-than-adventurous tourists.
That brings me back to the Oceanaire. A spinoff of the parent company that gave birth to the wacky Italian-American festival of food known as Buca di Beppo, the elegant Oceanaire Seafood Room runs like a well-tuned Mercedes and is overseen by Terry Ryan, a savvy 30-year restaurant vet and visionary. Ryan's operation has it all, including great seafood, great service and great energy.
Of course, one could argue (and I'm certain many will) that "having it all" is easy when Ryan, president and COO of a growing chain of highfalutin seafooderies, can fly into our fair city, turn to his Seattle staff and say: "We'll lose half a million dollars in the first six months. Lose it wisely!" But it's also easy to argue that restaurants viewed in some quarters as vampires — sucking blood from the local economy — are in fact socking money back into the economy in ways easily overlooked. Oceanaire is a good example.
Built by locally owned Sellen Construction, promoted by a Seattle PR firm and providing a staff of 80-plus employees with training and a paycheck, this "out-of-towner" was injecting money into the Seattle economy long before it opened its doors in January. Among its newly employed today are three Minneapolis transplants and an army of local talent including some of the city's best restaurant managers, servers, bartenders and busers. What do you want to bet they're happy to be working in a busy venue where customer satisfaction is Job One, where big check-averages equal big tips, and where big tips mean more cash to spend at such "local" outfits as Starbucks, Nordstrom, Eddie Bauer and QFC. (To say nothing of all those owner-operated restaurants we know and love.)
Oceanaire's kitchen staff is led by Kevin Davis, wooed to the task after a diligent search for a well-connected local chef. Davis has been given carte blanche to put his imprint on the daily-changing menu — which features, to his constant amazement, more than 30 types of fresh seafood each day. When his fish arrives, it's taken straight to a walk-in cooler kept at a consistent 35 degrees. There it's filleted at a counter and sink specially installed within the refrigerated unit to minimize health hazards and maintain pristine condition: a technical innovation (among many others in this uber-kitchen) largely unheard of elsewhere and worthy of emulation everywhere.
Given the volume of seafood sold here, scoring a wholesale account with Oceanaire is a score indeed. Trickle-down economics have reached local purveyors such as Everett's Golden Crown Bakery, which delivers between 700 and 800 loaves of bread a week to Oceanaire. "This is a very good account for us," says owner Jurgen Bettag. "From the beginning, they've increased their order and have never cut back. In terms of overall performance, that's impressive for a brand-new restaurant."
Seattle neighborhood restaurateur Jeremy Hardy earned his chops at a respected Northwest chain, McCormick & Schmick's, before opening the 31-seat Beeliner Diner with his business partner Peter Levy. In the years since, Hardy and Levy have transformed the tiny Beeliner into Jitterbug, opened (and closed) Luncheonette #1, and presently run three other successful enterprises (the 5 Spot, Coastal Kitchen and Atlas Foods). As always, they have their eye on expansion and wouldn't be above extending their mini-empire beyond the city limits.
Asked his opinion of the Big Outfits and their potential to derail the local independent operator, Hardy says, "Some chains come in with a promise that they don't live up to. Those are the ones that fail. Others come in with a promise — and deliver on that promise. For any restaurant to succeed you have to look at both sides: the craft and the business. A successful chain does that."
Hardy contends that people don't like to credit "the corporate guys" for coming up with great ideas and innovations. "We, as small restaurateurs, should learn from them," he says. "When you grow, people look at you with some element of distrust. What people don't realize is that we grow our business because we love the business."
Nancy Leson can be reached at 206-464-8838 or nleson@seattletimes.com. More columns at www.seattletimes.com/columnists.