A10 WEDNESDAY, MARCH 18, 2020 LATIMES.COM
CORONAVIRUS
remain open for takeout and
delivery, and will start sell-
ing produce boxes for $40 on
Wednesday.)
Other restaurants that
initially tried their hand at
takeout but also reversed
course in a matter of days:
Bon Temps, Lincoln Car-
son’s downtown restaurant,
which announced Monday
evening that it would “be
ceasing all operations in-
definitely”; and Otium, Tim
Hollingsworth’s restaurant
nearby, which said it would
keep paying employees’
health insurance “for as long
as we’re able.”
Meanwhile, Minh Phan
decided to completely tran-
sition Porridge + Puffs,
her Historic Filipinotown
restaurant, into a “collabo-
rative provision shop” that is
set to open Thursday. Cus-
tomers will be able to pick up
items from the store or have
them delivered; an online
store is also in the works.
Products will include most
of Porridge + Puffs’ menu, as
well as packaged foods and
self-care products.
“I cried a lot today,” Phan
said in an email on Sunday
night. “I crunched numbers
a zillion ways. With my per-
sonal savings, I will pay our
team as long as I can or as
long as it takes for us to crea-
tively turn this ship around.”
Clark Street Bread is also
touting retail offerings. Thewill test the resilience of
chefs in unprecedented
ways. Those who are able to
pivot quickly and creatively
will have the best chance of
survival.
“Necessity is the mother
of invention,” said Adam
Weisblatt, owner of restau-
rant consulting company
Last Word Hospitality and
co-owner of Found Oyster in
East Hollywood and Same
Same in Silver Lake. “You
have a creative industry fac-
ing a very unique challenge.
And that is spurring a lot of
people to come up with ideas
and approaches that they
would never otherwise con-
sider.”
Chefs are used to stress-
ful situations: long hours, ra-
zor-thin margins and the
changing whims of the din-
ing public. In the last few
days, they’ve rallied: heavily
pushing delivery and take-
out as an obvious first step
but also developing meal
kits and taco “survival
packs,” encouraging people
to buy gift cards and
branded merchandise, box-
ing up unused inventory for
sale, offering no-contact
curbside pickup and flipping
restaurant spaces to be-
come retail shops.
“In an attempt to be re-
sponsible and proactive, we
are offering new delivery
packages of heat-and-serve
dishes,” chef Josef Centeno
said on Instagram last week.
On Tuesday, he released a
to-go menu with items from
his downtown restaurants
Baco Mercat, Orsa & Win-
ston and Bar Ama and said
he would soon sell sweat-
shirts that he was personally
hand-dyeing.
“I’m trying to figure out
how to keep my chefs and
managers working,” he
wrote. “They all have taken a
pay cut, and we have figured
out an amount that can have
them hopefully at least cover
rent and buy basics while we
get through this.”
Many chefs, noticing that
consumers are loading up at
local markets, have begun
selling kitchen essentials.
“The grocery stores are
empty, so we’re packaging
our pastas and bread to take
home,” M. Georgina, the
new downtown L.A. restau-
rant by Melissa Perello, said
in a post along with pricing
for dried mafaldine, spa-
ghetti, casarecce and a
house levain loaf.
Jeremy Fox launched
“The Sundries,” a line of
pantry staples that will be
sold out of his Santa Monica
restaurant Birdie G’s, in-
cluding ketchup, barbecue
sauce, honey mustard and
chicken stock; the chef said
he would soon announce a
full menu of prepared
dishes, with curbside pick-
up available.
Wes Avila of Guerrilla Ta-
cos has even thrown in four
rolls of toilet paper with his
$150 “emergency taco kit,”
which also includes 5
pounds each of carne asada
and roasted chicken, a quart
each of red and green salsa,
tortillas and 30 eggs. He
called it a “true Angeleno
survival pack” for “crazy and
uncertain” times.
Given just four hours’ no-
tice of the impending shut-
down, restaurant owners
now find themselves with a
surplus of inventory. At All
Day Baby, which recently
opened in Silver Lake, man-
aging partner Lien Ta spent
Monday organizing a “bo-
dega” inside the restaurant
to sell off unused product;
the one-day fire sale on
Tuesday included smoked
meats, flats of eggs, bread,
sauces, brownies, straw-
berries and “tons of other
produce,” and “wine, all the
bottles.” Will it be enough? A
lot depends on how long the
shutdown lasts, and how
consumers respond.
“It’s hard to know how
these moves will go,” Weis-
blatt said. “So much is up in
the air.”
And changing rapidly.
On Monday, Los Angeles
County followed the city’s
lead by ordering the tempo-
rary closure of all restau-
rants and bars. Chefs said
the sudden shifts mean con-
stant reevaluation and ad-
justments; many have al-
ready thrown in the towel on
takeout and delivery, finding
it not financially feasible.
Last week, Kismet began
making its regular menu
available for takeout along
with containers of chicken
broth and house-made lab-
neh. By Monday afternoon,
the Los Feliz restaurant an-
nounced it would temporari-
ly close. (Its sister restau-
rant, Kismet Rotisserie, willbakery set up an e-com-
merce section of its website
on Monday to sell sweat-
shirts, T-shirts and gift
cards — “other ways to help
your small local businesses.”
Some chefs worry that
those efforts, no matter how
innovative or aggressive,
won’t come close to offset-
ting lost revenue.
“A lot of restaurants ar-
en’t financially prepared for
this: We’re prepared to work
harder, we’re prepared to get
through hard times, but
we’re not prepared for noth-
ing,” said Genevieve Gergis,
co-owner of Bestia and
Bavel. Even before the clo-
sures, the two perpetually
packed downtown restau-
rants hadn’t “made profits
for a week.”
“We’re scrambling with
numbers to see how far we
can stretch it,” she said. “All
our overhead is a huge ex-
pense. Across both restau-
rants we serve 1,000 people a
day. Our health insurance is
$60,000 per month for our
employees. That’s for real.
And we also have our rent.
“There’s no creative ad-
justment with this; there’s
no creative challenge,” Ger-
gis added. “It’s just unknown
and scary.”Times staff writers
Genevieve Ko and Ben
Mims contributed to this
report.THE USUALLY BUSTLINGGrand Central Market downtown is a much different sight with every one of its
food stalls, like all Los Angeles restaurants, either open only for takeout and delivery or temporarily closed.
Irfan KhanLos Angeles TimesChefs cook up strategies
to keep businesses afloat
ALL DAY BABY, which recently opened in Silver Lake, held a sale Tuesday to
offload its surplus inventory, including lots of produce, eggs, biscuits and wine.Mariah TaugerLos Angeles TimesRESTAURATEURSsuch as Norm Langer, right, with his Langer’s Deli and
Restaurant staff, have to think about their businesses’ and employees’ finances.Irfan KhanLos Angeles Times[Chefs,from A1]
NEW ORLEANS — Over
the last 180 years, the family
that runs Antoine’s, a bas-
tion of the French Quarter,
managed to keep the restau-
rant open despite the Civil
War, two World Wars, Pro-
hibition, the Great Depres-
sion and Hurricane Katrina
— but not the coronavirus.
With four deaths and 196
coronavirus cases statewide
as of Tuesday night, most in
the New Orleans area, Loui-
siana’s governor closed bars
and restricted restaurants
to takeout orders until April
13 to prevent the disease’s
spread. Antoine’s shut in-
definitely.
“Who’s going to come and
get a Pompano Pontchar-
train takeout?” owner Lisa
Blount said as she sipped
her last wine Monday night.
“I can’t give you Antoine’s on
Grubhub.”
Few U.S. cities are as de-
pendent on fine dining and
drinking to drive tourism
and the local economy as is
New Orleans. The co-
ronavirus arrived during
peak spring tourist season,
forcing the postponement of
a slew of events including the
French Quarter Festival and
leaving the fate of others
such as Jazz Fest in doubt.
And this week’s sudden clo-
sures are a likely preview of
what’s to come for other
cities, imperiling culinary in-
stitutions and leaving hun-
dreds of chefs, bartenders,
waiters and kitchen staff
adrift.
Blount and her husband
had to temporarily lay off
most of their 165 staff mem-
bers, including entire fam-
ilies who have served up oys-
ters Rockefeller for decades.
None of them was pre-
pared for the restaurant to
close so quickly, including
the Blounts.
“I still had good things on
the books, mega parties for
St. Patrick’s Day,” Blount
said wistfully. “And this
weekend, that started to fall
apart.”
Late Sunday, Mayor La-
Toya Cantrell limited
restaurant and bar hours,
and cut capacity in half.
Waiters at Café du Monde
kept tables empty to create
social distance between
powdered beignets and
steaming cups of café au lait.
Lucky Dog hot dog vendors
placed hand sanitizer and
Lysol atop their carts. The
Natchez riverboat set sail as
usual from the French Quar-
ter with loads of tourists.
Cruise ships continued to
dock nearby, dropping off
scores of travelers.
There was only so much
staff could do at Pat O’Bri-
en’s bar, home to the hurri-
cane cocktail since the 1940s,
as crowds filled their court-
yard and nearby Bourbon
Street. By nightfall, police
had descended, dispersing
crowds, drawing ire and
spawning videos viewed by
millions.
“Large groups of people
are prohibited from congre-
gating!” officers can be
heard shouting in the vide-
os. “Your actions are jeop-
ardizing public health and
we are directing you to clear
the streets!”
On Monday, smaller
crowds returned to the
French Quarter. So did po-
lice, although they remained
on the periphery until after
dark, when they started go-
ing door to door, enforcing
restaurant and bar closures.
“How do we keep going
and keep the experience of
Antoine’s?” Blount won-
dered aloud, surrounded by
empty tables and walls cov-
ered with Mardi Gras regalia
from generations past.
Chris Shaw, an attorney
and self-described foodie
from Albuquerque, had driv-
en to New Orleans with his
wife to celebrate his 60th
birthday this week after can-
celing a trip to Morocco due
to coronavirus travel restric-
tions.
They had reservations to
dine at Commander’s Pal-
ace in the city’s Garden Dis-
trict, drawn by its history ofnoted chefs.
“You can’t do takeout at
Commander’s Palace — you
have to wear a suit jacket.
That’s where Emeril La-
gasse got his start,” Shaw
said as he finished his coffee
at Café du Monde on Mon-
day.
They had planned to see
Charmaine Neville — Aaron
Neville’s niece — sing at
Snug Harbor Jazz Bistro on
Frenchmen Street this
week. But that, too, was can-
celed. They tried Tipitina’s
jazz club — also closed.
“We went to a stall in the
French Market and asked if
they would be open and she
said, ‘They’re closing down
the whole city,’” said his wife,
Susannah Abbey, 51. “The
number of Louisiana people
who have it has just ex-
ploded.”
Dr. Geoffrey Konye was
visiting from Los Angeles
with several friends to cele-
brate his 40th birthday on
Bourbon Street.
“When we left California,
everything was OK in New
Orleans,” said Konye, who
works at an emergency room
at Garfield Medical Center
in Monterey Park.
The group was resigned
to the disease’s spread and
said closing bars and restau-
rants wouldn’t make much
of a difference.
“Either way, we’re going
to face it,” Konye said.
One of his friends, a nurse
from Sacramento, had been
exposed to a potential
coronavirus patient, got
tested and was still awaiting
the results.
Nearby, waiters and dish-
washers stood smoking and
chatting in the streets, un-
able to believe they could be
out of a job even as tourists
searched for places to eat.
“This is a party city,” said
Shawn Shorts, one of seven
dishwashers at the Gumbo
Shop who were laid off Mon-
day.
Shorts, 44, had just
started work last week for
$10 an hour, meaning he
won’t be eligible for unem-
ployment benefits.
Kenneth Sexton, a hotel
worker and dishwasher at
Felix’s Oyster Bar off Bour-
bon Street, said his friend’s
uncle was among those who
died from the coronavirus in
Louisiana, so he under-
stands the threat. But he
also worried about how serv-
ice workers could protect
themselves without jobs.
“It’s destroying the econ-
omy,” said Sexton, 35. “It’s
stopping us from making the
money to provide for our
families.” The state edict
forced the owners of Pat
O’Brien’s to place more than
300 employees on unpaid
leave, some of whom had
worked at the bar for 50
years.
“We knew we wouldn’t be
spared,” manager Spencer
Theard said. “What can we
do? Safety comes first.”
As the bar’s courtyard
filled before last call Mon-
day, Theard was optimistic.
“We’ve been through 9/11, ”
he said. “We’ve been through
Katrina. People always
come back.”
But an eerie quiet envel-
oped Bourbon Street
shortly before midnight as
bars emptied and police cars
rolled past.
A handful of locals gath-
ered with their dogs outside
Toulouse Dive Bar, one of
the few to stay open until the
bitter end. Regulars were
welcome, including street
performers from Jackson
Square who showed up
dressed as zombies. Those
seeking tourist drinks such
as hurricanes and hand
grenades were turned away.
As last call approached,
neighbors huddled on the
bar’s doorstep and debated
the unthinkable over plastic
cups of red wine and tap
beer: Would the highways
close like they did during
Hurricane Katrina? Was
now the time to hunker
down, or leave? Could the
government impose martial
law?
“We’re just all kind of
hanging on day to day,” said
Sarah Stelly, 39, who works
at a nearby shoe store.
They knew how to navi-
gate a hurricane, but not
this.
“Last call!” shouted the
bartender.
By midnight, Bourbon
Street had closed.Party’s over in
New Orleans
after virus hits
Louisiana forces bars
and eateries to close,
leaving many unsure
when they’ll reopen.
By Molly
Hennessy-Fiske