Googling food safety

Plug “E. coli” into Google’s news search feature and you’ll pull up the latest on an outbreak in Canada, where officials are trying to verify that contaminated lettuce is what sickened more than 50 people. You’ll also be getting a test drive of what could become a powerful but controversial new tool in promoting food safety: The Google search itself.

The New York Times reported last week that a philanthropic arm of the internet powerhouse is experimenting with a new service designed to help U.S. health officials detect a flu outbreak at least a week before the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention typically spots a cluster. The premise of the program is that sufferers or their families will search for symptoms of the illness via Google in hopes of determining what ails them. The search engine notes the spike in queries and pinpoints where they’re arising, thereby flagging an outbreak. See it for yourself at www.google.org/flutrends.

Right now, the only incarnation of the service is Google Flu Trends. But the same concept would presumably work with such food-related illnesses as norovirus or E. coli. “From a technological perspective, it is the beginning,” Google CEO Eric E. Schmidt told the Times.

The capability would seem like a no-brainer of a breakthrough. But it’s already stirred up controversy as well as hopes. The Times’ popular technology blog Bits has aired the fears of some groups that the detection function could lead to breaches of privacy. Google has issued assurances that disease-related search results would be aggregated rather than recorded by searcher, but public advocates are worried the capability could be misused to identity persons coming down with a particular ailment.

Potential risks aside, what’s the pay-off for such a system? In tests, Google Flu Trends spotted an East Coast flu outbreak a full 14 days before the incidences were collated by the CDC. That news came to light as health authorities in Canada were looking at reports of diarrhea and other potential signs of E. coli poisoning from a school in North Bay, the town where a Harvey’s family restaurant was implicated as the source of the lettuce-related outbreak.

Fortunately, it looks as if the school children were afflicted with the flu, not ailments caused by the potentially deadly bacteria. But if the Google system had been in place there (right now it’s only used domestically), and the agent was indeed E. coli 0157:H7, health officials might’ve gotten a jump that could’ve saved lives.

With a benefit that important, it seems like a service worth adopting, especially if reasonable privacy safeguards are put in place.

Putting a face on food safety

You have to appreciate the above-and-beyond efforts of the food-safety specialists attending the Food Safety Symposium this weekend in Charlotte, N.C. They could’ve kicked back last night with an extra hot chocolate, or maybe declared it a wild night because they had the three-custard dessert at the local hotspot where we had dinner. Instead, they insisted on demonstrating the germ-killing capabilities of alcoholic beverages. Again and again and again.

I, too, had a few drinks at the post-dinner party, presented by our hosts, Ecolab. But that doesn’t change the impact of today’s event, a look at how the restaurant industry is trying to protect guests more effectively from foodborne disease. The first session of our two-day conference was crammed with practical advice on safeguarding the food supply. But what really sticks with me is how the effort to avert foodborne disease was personified.

Instead of talking in stark scientific terms about bacteria and viruses, speaker after speaker put a human face on the issue. Dave Theno, our keynote speaker, explained that he was driven to push for food-safety improvements by memories of a six-year-old girl who died during the E. coli catastrophe that almost destroyed Jack in the Box in the early 1990s. He characterized the girl, the first child to die in the epidemic, as “the angel” who inspires him to keep driving for greater safeguards.

“I think of my 2-year-old and my 9-year-old. They’re my 6-year-old,” said Angel Sanford of the McAlister’s fast-casual chain. “Quality is something I take very, very personally.”

Kathy Means of the Produce Marketing Association showed pictures of Kyle Algood and Ruby Trautz, two victims of the spinach contamination of three years ago. Dr. Bruce Chords of Ecolab mentioned how his grandchildren had brought home a norovirus infection—which he then caught. My NRN colleague, Robin Allen, mentioned that her daughter had been hospitalized with the pathogen. Patrick Sterling of Texas Roadhouse recounted how he called all 150 victims of a norovirus outbreak that was believed to be connected with one of that chain’s restaurants.

Clearly, despite all the problems they've seen or noted, attendees regard the victims of a contagion as people, not statistics.

Attendees also heard terms like virons, lateral flow immunosensors and bacteriophages. But they and presenters never let the meeting drift too far from the sensibility that they are protecting people in restaurants, not working with petri dishes in some lab.

The potential downside of buying local

We’re only one panel and one speaker into the Symposium (see the post below for some context), but already some definite themes are emerging. One, clearly, is the need for traceability, which by the consensus of presenters thus far is a particularly pointed need because of rising imports. The other, perhaps not surprisingly, is local sourcing, which has been largely cited as a food safety challenge.

Said Theno: “Many of these local suppliers do not have the sophisticated controls in place. [Yet] you need a lot of processes and process controls for food safety. Small does not necessarily mean bad;” some small players, he noted, do indeed put the necessary systems and safeguards in place. But, he suggested, a lot simply can’t afford it.

“ Sacrificing safety for the marketing aura of saying ‘locally produced’ is not wise,” he concluded.

Mike Reinert, VP of supply management, talked about the need of educating those small local suppliers, while applying the same sort of criteria that would be used for suppliers of any size: third-party audits, checking for a food-safety security plan, employee background checks.

The safeguards aren’t unique to that realm, he suggested. But the challenge is making sure that they’re applied. He indicated that Delaware North tries to do it by educating its suppliers. He also suggested that Delaware North personnel are also trained to ensure standards are met by the local players from which they buy.

Live from the NRN Food Safety Symposium

Bacteria must be high-fiving and hooting with delight. Dave Theno, the food-safety guru who was brought in by Jack in the Box in the midst of the chain’s E. coli crisis to right the situation, has just noted that he’s retiring. His presentation, on where the restaurant industry is heading food-safety-wise, underscores what an arch-nemesis the pathogens are about to lose.

Indeed, Theno has just invited the audience of 40 or so chain food-safety experts to contact him if they’re getting pushback from upper-level executives about investing in food safety.

“You got a CEO who doesn’t get it? Say, ‘I got a guy you’ve gotta talk to.’ Set it up, and I’ll call the guy,” Theno said. “And afterward, he’s going to like you a lot more, because I’m a real asshole to talk with, so you’ll look a lot better.”

Theno ended his presentation by recounting how he met a woman from Safe Tables Our Priority, whose six-year-old daughter was the first child to die in the Jack in the Box E. coli crisis in the early 1990s. Theno recounted how the woman promised her lost daughter that she would press for reforms on the girl’s behalf. Theno said he saw the girl as his “personal angel” in helping him push for safer foods.

If you know someone in food safety, tell them or give them a six-year-old. Trust me, it’ll get a lot easier.

"Take home your own six-year-old," he said.

I’m writing this from Nation’s Restaurant News’ Food Safety Symposium in Charlotte, N.C. I’ll be posting updates here throughout the conference, hopefully on a near-live basis.

So stay tuned. And contact me if you’re a chain restaurant executive who’d like to reach Theno.

Bugging out

Salmonella is haunting my social life. Lately, while dining with wife and friends, I’ll look up to find the whole table staring. Then the Simon Says starts. Peter spears a tomato wedge; everyone spears a tomato wedge. A bite of lettuce, and soon the whole party’s crunching. It’s like having dinner with a newly discovered aboriginal tribe that’s not sure what to do with a fork.

Finally, the ah-ha moment: “Peter writes about food safety,” my wife whispered across the table to a couple whose acquaintance we were just making. “He’s been covering this whole salmonella thing and what they think may be causing it.”

Suddenly, I’d become the arbiter of what’s safe to eat.

So, of course, I started messing with them.

A forkful of salad, then a loud, showy gulp of wine. “Kills the germs,” I whispered conspiratorially to my fellow diners. Soon they were knocking back the red and white like pirates on leave.

I’ve been tempted to stare at my full plate for a second, yell “oh, no,” then bolt from the table. But the situation is already too much like a Will Ferrell movie.

But dim-witted clowning might still be better from a restaurateur’s standpoint than the speculation my friends have demonstrated. Like the one who drinks warm soda because she saw a Sweeps-week news story about high bacteria counts in some restaurants’ ice. Or the college professor who hesitated, his fork in mid-air, after being served. “Tomatoes are okay now?” he asked. The only type on his plate were cherry tomatoes, which had been cleared as safe to eat virtually from Day One of the outbreak. And this was six weeks into it, when the spotlight had shifted to peppers. “And how about spinach? Wasn’t there a problem with that?” he asked.

My wife, meanwhile, piped up with her theory that the culprit is probably onions. Not once have onions been cited by authorities as a suspect. But I’m sure she also blames onions for the housing crisis, reality TV and fallen arches. It’s a longstanding antipathy.

And the confusion is equally as persistent. Someday, hopefully before the list of casualties climbs any higher, federal health officials will figure out what has sickened almost 1,100 people. But until they do, customers are going to order in accordance with their preconceptions, regardless of how off the mark they may be. And they might keep doing so even after the mystery is solved.

Customers sound off

A rose is a rose is a rose, but restaurant customers come in ever-shifting varieties. Treat them right, even in a crisis, and they can be convincing apostles for a place or a chain, as Chipotle is learning from a consumer poll that’s being conducted on its handling of a food-safety situation. But burn ‘em and they’ll turn into town criers of a far different sort, as I was reminded by an e-mail, complete with a photo documenting the transgression, that was sent this morning by a disgruntled KFC patron.

“The picture I have attached is my first, and likely the last, purchase
 of what was supposed to be KFC's new Grilled Chicken Sandwich,” wrote Chris Donaldson of Westminster, Canada. “[It was] advertised at 
the ordering kiosk in the drive-thru as having a bulging piece of grilled
 chicken layered with a generous helping of lettuce and a slice of tomato.” Instead, Donaldson said, it looked like this:



He said he contacted KFC’s corporation operations, who put him in touch with the franchisee, who offered to give him a free sandwich the next time he’s in the area. Donaldson said he lives 30 miles from the store, and a free sandwich just isn’t enough of a draw.

“I appreciate the efforts by some fast food outlets to present a good fair-
for-the- money product, but this turn in my opinion with KFC has to be done 
properly and without ripping customers off, “ he wrote. He also lamented the chain’s discontinuation of Tender Roast non-fried chicken a few years ago.

Contrast that takeaway with the impressions consumers cited in a poll that’s being conducted by Kimberly Palmer, author of U.S. News & World Reports’ Alpha Consumer blog. The survey deals with Chipotle’s handling of a norovirus outbreak that was linked to its unit in Kent, Ohio, near the campus of Kent State. About 450 people were afflicted in the incident, according to local news reports. As we reported yesterday online, Chipotle is inviting victims to submit their medical bills for reimbursement.

“Imagine this: You go to a restaurant. The food makes you sick—so sick you need to visit the doctor,” writes Palmer. “To compensate, the restaurant offers to pay your medical bills. Does that leave you a satisfied customer?”

The posting includes an instant poll that readers can take to express their opinions of Chipotle’s response. Fifty-three percent said their sentiments were best expressed by the option, “It could have happened to any restaurant, and probably won’t happen again to Chipotle.” Another 31 percent said they’d be “a bit wary” but would eventually go back to the restaurant. Only 16 percent responded, “Medical bills or not, Mexican food would nauseate me forevermore.”

Do have a cow, man

Coincidence or calculation? On Sunday, the U.S. Department of Agriculture announces the biggest beef recall in the nation’s history, citing the failure of a southern California slaughterhouse to heed a particular protection against mad cow disease. Earlier, employees at the plant had been videotaped using prods to force “downer” cows—animals unable to stand, a possible symptom of mad cow disease—to stand and be slaughtered. On Monday, Chipotle Mexican Grill announces that its restaurants in Minnesota are switching to “natural” beef from animals that were “humanely raised” and fed a purely vegetarian diet. Mixing animal matter into cattle feed has been identified as a cause of mad cow disease and hence is no longer legal in the U.S.

“Our commitment to working with like-minded suppliers who share our belief that food should be raised with respect for the environment, the animals, and the people involved is helping us make superior quality food, including naturally raised meat, accessible and affordable so everyone can eat better,” Chipotle CEO and founder Steve Ells said in the announcement.

Chipotle has been gradually buying more and more hormone-free meats to supply its 700-plus restaurants. Ditto for organic beans. Insiders say the chain would hurry up the changeover if it could secure enough of a supply at a feasible price. So today’s announcement was probably in the works for some time.

If that’s the case—and I for one presume it is—then the sequence of events underscores what a compelling point of difference Chipotle is offering the public. Consumers read in their daily newspaper that 143 million pounds of beef have been recalled because of a slight food-safety concern. When they log into FaceBook, they learn from one of the dozens of Chipotle sites in that network that the chain is lessening the chances that its patrons would be exposed to a peril like that, no matter how slight. And it’s promoting the humane treatment of animals in the process.

Is it any wonder the company posted a 70 percent leap in profit last year?