Toronto Restaurant Patios: Pack it Up. It’s Not Another April Fools’—It’s No Laughing Matter
This Easter weekend would have marked a hallmark event for restaurant sales and customer engagement — but it’s a year-round presence that’s truly priceless
Fool me once, shame on you — but fool me twice, shame on me? It’s a punchline many Toronto restaurant business owners will find themselves reluctantly muttering this Easter weekend.
And rightly so: After having to learn at the last minute of new lockdown measures that will see patio tables and chairs collapsed in the same abruptness of their very set-up — signalling the end of just two weeks of offering outdoor dining service.
Yet as Ontario Premier Doug Ford pulls the “emergency brake” on the current modified lockdown, taking effect as of 12:01 a.m. on Saturday for an expected 28 days — or more — it spells further heartbreak and hardship for restaurants.
And it could rather mean pulling the plug for some already struggling restaurants that have had to endure an operational slow burn into 2021.
As, first and foremost, someone who loves food with all of their heart and stomach, and secondly as a customer, I know very well that it’s never just about satisfying the taste buds when it comes to eating out. It’s about capturing the experience.
Let alone, what’s at stake with yet another closure to the dining room. And yet, it’s the said experience that restaurants live for — 24/7 and 365 days a year — only to once again be put on hold.
Even as the patio season seemed to have blossomed early, albeit to much excitement and hard work, businesses must now stick with delivery and takeaway only, as mainstays of their “pandemic diet” — leaving the streets empty of curious wafts and echoing laughs.
And the staff who courageously muster a smile behind their mask, bringing love, comfort, and warmth to the addition of space heaters and blankets, all in spite of the trying times that they clearly face.
It’s these places that are containers of memories.
While the closures are a collective sigh and sulk across the province of Ontario for industry stakeholders, as the stop-and-go dance to the playlist of confusing lockdown orders shuffles, it’s just another traumatic experience for those still involved.
It’s the people who truly only know of the hospitality industry, and what it means to them as their livelihood, life, and partnership. Moreover, as restauranteurs, chefs, and servers who do not have the transferable skills and experience to change jobs.
What is further compromised is their mental well-being, income security, and overall safety, which now largely rests in the hands of the government during this pandemic — in particular, with how lockdowns are now managed, or rather mismanaged, by them.
As restaurants demand compensation as Ontario enters a new lockdown — with some even insisting that the Premier foot the bill for spoiled inventory — Dan Kelly, President and CEO of the Canadian Federation of Independent Business (CFIB), cites a gutwrenching 300 days of closure to the dining room since the start of the pandemic.
For businesses that were yet able to remain open in the face of absolute adversity — even if ever so slightly softened by government financial support — a consecutive closure quickly voids new hiring, inventory, and special purchases made for the new health regulations and patio bylaws.
And with hopes and dreams in tow.
It’s an even more troubling reality — or veritable nightmare — for restauranteurs who do not have the luxury of additional businesses to their name. In more dire terms, all eggs are nestled into one basket.
And it’s not one big, beautiful Easter basket this year; in the absence, there isn’t then any wiggle room to shuffle and shutter at discretion.
Without a portfolio of different restaurants, customers, by the same token, cannot even simply opt for a comparable favourite menu item made available at another location.
But besides a blow to cash flow, team morale, and the movement of goods — alcohol and perishables in anticipation of guests — it’s important to look at the restaurant hustle as one that transcends a transactional matter and, for that matter, the broader economy.
Beyond the scope of 64,000 workers to the sum of $3.2 billion dollars in annual wages, restaurants are vital organs of the city, and their significance — DNA — is lost in the cloud of listings accessed through a food delivery app.
Even if it is takeout or delivery from a preferred spot that offers the best-barbecued meats in town, sharing the utmost optimism and support for them — whether with or without a side of controversy — is a meal that just won’t taste the same.
Because it’s without the punchy, palate-pleasing platter of tacos shared with a loved one, followed by the bill as they disappear to the bathroom; watching orders dance around the restaurant, sometimes to hit the floor in a breakdance; or overhearing the feature of the day, only to learn that the kitchen has just run out of the main ingredient.
It’s the human touch — the missing seasoning.
Let’s not also forget about how it feels to be taken care of. As someone who lives alone, now joined by the rest of the world in isolation, it is special to be able to feel loved by food and the care of others — and food is the perfect vehicle through which care is given and received.
From the quiet neighbourhood fixture, serving up warm and reassuring fish and chips to a few tables, to the bustling bravado of the fine dining scene once frequented by the 9–5 crowd, it’s these places that are containers of memories.
And now they’re empty and plastic, awaiting the next food delivery service provider.
Related: Table for Two: Celebrate Valentine’s Day at Toronto’s Flagship Fine Dining Restaurants
