July fireworks

Can I pour you another cup of coffee? How about another plate of carbs, or maybe something sugary to keep you going? You’ll definitely need more than the usual oomph and sustenance to get through July, which should have been specially named for restaurateurs. National Eye Poke Appreciation Month, perhaps.

This, after all, is a stretch when the industry will experience more firsts than the freshman class at Party U. If only it were to be as much fun. Or even in the same range as a wolverine attack. Instead, the industry can look forward to unprecedented bans, mandates, cost hikes and marketing experiments.

Start with the first-ever ban of trans fats in restaurant baked goods, which takes effect as of 12:01 a.m. tomorrow in New York City, or, as the local board of health is determined to rechristen it, San Francisco-East. Folks in that famous West Coast pit of activism now look at the Big Apple and mutter, “Whoa, those folks are crazy. Where’d they come up with these laws?”

New York actually banned trans fat some time ago, but provided a grace period for baked goods because of the logistical problems. Some chefs say it’s hard to deliver the light, flakey quality you want in pie crusts or pastries without using trans-fat-rich shortening. If they haven’t figured out how to do it by now, they’ll hear about it from the health department starting tomorrow, though fines won’t be levied until October. It’s the city’s version of double-secret probation.

By that time, getting fined could have lost its novelty for New York’s chain restaurants. About 2,000 of them will be subject to financial penalties as of July 19 for failing to comply with the city’s calorie-disclosure requirement, another first-in-the-nation distinction. Early assessments of compliance levels suggest a lot of restaurants will be writing checks.

Of course, restaurants everywhere will be punching up the checks they cut on payday. On July 24, the federal minimum wage rises to $6.55 an hour, from the current $5.85.

That may be the most universal of the changes. Perhaps the most limited is the virtually overlooked menu-labeling requirement that takes effect tomorrow in Mississippi, which is to catfish what Iowa is to corn. Starting at midnight, restaurants with catfish on their menus will be required to let patrons know the origin of the fish. If it comes from Mississippi, the place can meet the requirement by erecting a sign or placard on the premises. But if it’s imported, that fact has to be pointed out on the menu, in the same font and type size as everything else.

Feature Mississippi catfish, and you have to post a sign. Feature another nation’s, and you have to reprint your menu. The impression of the state’s school system may be about to change.

Carbon footprints on restaurateurs’ backs

This just in from the Wile E. Coyote Falling Anvil Alert Service: Stay inside. The well-intentioned forces that hope to make the world a better place for chipmunks and koala bears are about to drop some serious (and no doubt recycled) iron on the restaurant industry.

You might even spot some casual-dining operators atop the cliff with them, though they could end up victims as much as supporters. Their curbside takeaway business would no doubt benefit if the ecologically-minded put the brakes on quick-service drive-thrus, as a number of activists are already vowing because of pollution concerns. The proponents of bans on drive-thrus or car idling could probably live with casual dining’s system of running an order out to patrons’ SUVs or hybrids as soon as they pull into designated parking spots.

It’s the drive-thru that has the Dark Greens stomping their Birkenstocks. Isn’t wasteful idling as much a part of that experience as yelling into a microphone? And isn’t that both contributing to global warming and wasting precious gas? Why not ban it?

And that’s exactly what Minneapolis did a little over two weeks ago. Cars that sit still outside of traffic for more than three minutes have to shut down their engines or risk getting ticketed.

Other areas, like Madison, Wis., are weighing the possibility of banning new drive-thrus. And interest in that method of cutting auto emissions is approaching a national crusade in Canada, with at least nine major cities considering a prohibition on the drive-up.

But the casual restaurant operators may soon have their own sustainable fish to fry. Conservationists hoping to stigmatize bottled water on ecological grounds succeeded last week in recruiting the Klingon Empire to their cause. After hearing that San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom had outlawed his city’s purchase of bottled water, the U.S. Conference of Mayors passed a resolution that obliges the 250 members to look into a similar rule within their respective jurisdictions. Already, the tribal leaders of Ann Arbor, Mich., have agreed not to allow bottled water to be served at city events.

So far, restaurants have only been pressured by the pro-tap forces to stop selling bottled water, instead of being forced by law. But certainly that insistence they forego the high-margin item is going to grow much, much stronger. Indeed, the industry is even hearing it from its own members. At the trade’s big convention last month in Chicago, some attendees groused that the panel of speakers at one event was provided with single-serving bottles of water, instead of a pitcher and glasses. It probably didn’t help that the green movement was going to be one of the topics discussed.

So what’s an industry to do? For one thing, catch up with Road Runner of public opinion. When I mention the possibility of a drive-thru or idling ban, restaurateurs always shoot me that same look they’d direct at a deranged street person. It reminds me of the bemused look they used to get when the topic of menu labeling came up at the beginning of the decade.

Secondly, the debates have largely been waged thus far on the basis of emotion, not fact. How much pollution do cars in a drive-thru actually contribute, and how does that compare with the emissions generated by parking, or stopping and starting the engine?

And what is the carbon glass print, so to speak, for water that comes from a bottle rather than a tap? How much energy is needed to wash pitchers or glasses for the stuff that comes out of a pipe in the kitchen? And how much of an impact did that pipe have? What about the effect on reservoirs that have already dwindled below the high-water mark?

Some hardcore research is clearly needed. Just try to avoid a provider that goes by the name of Acme. Its products have proven time and again to be ineffective, especially if they have a fuse.

Daydream believers

I was trading air-guitar licks the other day with Bluto Pilkbean, the imaginary childhood friend who helped me invent the flying car and a way of extracting super-human strength from Twizzlers. He’s recently made a name for himself in the fanciful field that’s filled many a restaurateur’s daydreams of late, the silver bullet.

“Pilkbean,” I said after we’d decided not to take the Sports Illustrated swimsuit models to dinner, “do you really buy this malarkey? So many things are stacked against the industry that all the experts are calling this a perfect storm. An operation is going to soar out of hell just by adding sliders or upgrading its coffee?”

“This from the person who believed he could obliterate all homework by electrifying Silly Putty,” he retorted. “Besides, you’re forgetting that most adapters combine the magic pills. McDonald’s is focusing on breakfast and beverages. Taco Bell is embracing cheap-o deals and new drinks and breakfast. Applebee’s is not only touting sliders and bargain-rate lunches, but also inviting customers to submit videos for a new campaign. It’s a matter of mucho mojo, mi compadre.” Pilkbean had never been quite the same since the trip to Tijuana.

“Who cares if you offer five or 50?,” I responded. “What does it get you other than one turn of consumers’ heads?”

“A point of differentiation.”

“For how long? If these killer plays do anything, everyone and their cousin copycats ‘em. It’ll be curbside takeaway or the Bloomin’ Onion all over again.” I looked to see if he was reaching for his combination death ray pistol/Pez dispenser, because I had him now.

“There’s always something new,” he noted calmly.

“Such as?”

“Well, right now some fast-casual chains are adding table service. All kinds of concepts are giving away food to bolster traffic. Eat ‘n Park and Chipotle are supposedly looking to use more local ingredients. Red Lobster just announced that it’ll give space on the menu to a dish created during one of those cooking-contest shows.”

“Isn’t that exactly what Friday’s did?”

“Well…maybe. But there’s talk of going even farther afield. Some concepts are talking about radical steps like upgrading service, renovating dining rooms, or”—he actually shivered at this point—“trying to hire and retain the best employees. Gives you goose bumps, doesn’t it?”

“You’re an idiot,” I assured. “Now let’s get back to work on our Red Sox immobilization spray.”

(Jolly old) BK sliders

Even with the U.K.’s love of all things royal, the Burger King may never have enjoyed a reception quite like he’s getting these days across the pond. The blogosphere is rippling with British-accented talk of the wooden-faced icon’s latest European menu addition, a product that seems likely to jump back home at some point. After all, what do Brits know about sliders?

Yet that’s what BK added to the menu of its British operations in late May. Not that this is your conventional mini-burger, a la what you’d get at White Castle, Krystal or any number of chains or fine-dining restaurants these days in the States. Indeed, BK’s new Angus 6 Pack is actually an oversized, scallop-edged burger that’s served with what could best be described as a modular bun. The patty is actually meant to be six small, interconnected burgers. The top and bottom of the bun are similarly styled. Patrons are urged to pull the item apart to form six minis—two topped just with catsup, two with catsup and cheese, and two with bacon added to those garnishes.

If the Angus 6 Pack is indeed added to the menus of stores in the U.S., it wouldn’t be the first time that Burger King featured sliders. In the 1980s, the chain added a multi-pack of minis called Burger Buddies. The product was indeed to be purchased as a snack. But franchisees yelped about the item because the little patties would slide through the grill of the concept’s signature chain broiler.

The use of a bigger, six-in-one patty would alleviate that problem.

Applebee's to try a chill pill?

Consumers may soon be spying a stockpile of thermometers behind the bar of their nearest Applebee’s. The new parent of the troubled casual-dining brand is looking to put more fizz into alcoholic beverage sales, and one of the means it’s considering is the schtick used by a franchisee in Ohio. The operator touts his beer as the coldest beer in town, and proves it by putting a thermometer into each glass when he serves it.

Julia Stewart, chairman and chief executive of DineEquity Inc., the clunky new moniker of IHOP Corp., told investors last week that Applebee’s new executive team will likely check out the gimmick for possibly wider adoption. “Don’t laugh—there’s probably a notion there that I want to exemplify [sic] and test,” she said at the Goldman Sachs Investor Conference.

During the Q&A session following her presentation, Stewart noted that Applebee’s is already one of the nation’s highest-volume beer sellers, but observed that wine could represent an opportunity.

She also repeated an earlier avowal to avoid the prior administration’s mistake of trying to make Applebee’s menu more sophisticated than patrons would like. She indicated that the brand should stay within its niche with she characterized as finger-food-type items. But she also noted that the bill of fare needed an update. Deep-fried mozzarella sticks were cited in particular as a tired nod to yesteryear.

'There goes the free Starbucks'

The worst part about getting fired from the CEO’s job at Starbucks is having to tell your mother, according to Jim Donald, who found that out for himself in January. Four months later, he was willing to talk about that day with a Fortune magazine editor, who convinced him to join two other victims of high-profile sackings for a joint soul baring of what they’d learned.

But it was far from a pity party. “This is what happens in the big leagues,” Donald remarked during the four-party Q&A with Fortune’s Patricia Sellers. He and his fellow boardroom casualties—JetBlue founder David Neeleman and former Motorola CEO Ed Zander—offered a dry-eyed assessment of why they were deposed.

Donald, for instance, said he should’ve pushed for faster international development. “The international markets don’t have as quick returns as the U.S.,” h said. “But if I’d known the U.S. economy was going to crash, I would have invested earlier.” His replacement as CEO, board chairman and former head bean Howard Schultz, has pledged to accelerate Starbucks’ development overseas while shutting weak U.S. outlets.

It was Schultz, Donald said, who actually wielded the axe, and he did it after giving his one-time protégé a hug. “It was on a Sunday evening, at Howard’s house,” Donald told Sellers and his fellow topple-ees. A greeting was followed by an embrace, then the news that Starbucks’ board had decided to make a change. Donald made it sound as if he didn’t have time to put his latte down.

The 54-year old said he headed home, where his wife expressed surprise that he’d was back already. “Laura said, ‘Wow, that was a quick meeting. Did you lose your job?’ I said, ‘As a matter of fact, I did.’”

The one-time head of Wal-Mart’s grocery operations said the most painful part of the experience was calling his mother the next day. Indeed, he said, that experience “probably” made it “the toughest day I’d ever faced, ever. Ever, ever, ever!” But, he indicated, she took it well.

Donald expressed no resentment about what happened to him. Nor did he speak of Schultz in anything but a neutral tone. Sellers asked Donald if he’d ever work again for a company’s founder, as he did at Schultz (a nit-picking point: Schultz founded Starbucks Corp., but not the Starbucks brand).

“Founders have a way of being engaged in the business, being emotionally connected to that brand or to that product,” he responded. “So would I work for a founder? Yes, absolutely.”

Web watchdogs can definitely bite

The Wall Street Journal outed several chains this weekend for switching to smaller beer glasses without adjusting prices or otherwise letting on. You’d think that’d trigger a fit of spin-doctoring from the likes of Hooters, GameWorks, Damon’s and Romano’s Macaroni Grill, but they wisely offered nothing more than the few qualifiers and no-comment that were included in the article. Even then, they came within a maraschino cherry stem of being sentenced to eternal avoidance by the modern-day equivalent of vigilantes: Web habitués who share a fanatical cause. In the era of the keyboard-empowered consumer, reckless indeed is the consumer brand that tries to pull one over on patrons, especially when it comes to value.

The situation is nearly a perfect homily as to why. The Journal, after all, was merely a messenger, relaying the lynch-mob talk that the chains and other beer-serving establishments had frothed up by switching from true pint glasses, capable of holding roughly 16 ounces of brew, to variations with a thicker glass bottom that leaves room for only 14 ounces. The motivation is obvious: With grain prices driving up the cost of beer, cagy operators are holding the price of their standard tap serving while slyly providing less beer.

As the article noted, consumers are catching on, and fast. Seven months months ago, a college researcher with a blog called Beervana started what he dubbed The Honest Pint Project, whereby he’d push for a full 16-ounce tap beer by publishing the names of drinking establishments in his native Portland, Ore., that offer a serving of at least that volume.

The parent of the Honest Pint Project, identified in the Journal article as Jeff Alworth, has raised his ambitions since then. “I will support a statutory change if it comes to that—and maybe it should,” he wrote in a blog installment posted today.

Yet Alworth sounds like an aggravated PTA member compared with the hops panthers who offered their comments, suggestions and assessments on beeradvocate.com. “So if there’s a beer bar on this site that has recently adopted this practice, can we call them out?,” asks a poster identified as guzzle211, who joked that he was already lighting a torch.

“What would it take to get legislation passed with regard to this? How did they do it in other countries?,” asks Josquin.

It goes without saying that establishments switching to what a Journal source dubbed “falsies” shouldn’t try to deceive patrons about the change (for the record: GameWorks said a mistake in glassware was made at a single unit, only franchised Hooters units offered the smaller glasses, Damon’s does not deny the change, and Romano’s had no comment). Risking the alienation of longstanding customers over two ounces of tap beer is crazy enough. Amplify that by the speed of gripe on the internet and there’s no doubt about the glass being half-empty.

A turn for the worse on menu labeling

One of the industry’s key defenses against menu labeling has been rendered useless by a recent court filing that could also break up the trade’s Hail Mary play for softening the impact of nutrition-disclosure mandates. The actions, little-noticed outside of the regulatory and legal worlds, came not from the restaurant business’ usual adversaries on diet-related matters, but from the hoped-for ally known as the U.S. Food & Drug Administration.

The development was the latest in the prolonged legal effort by the New York State Restaurant Association to overturn a New York City requirement that local chain units post calorie counts on menu boards, regular bills of fare and drink menus. The association filed a lawsuit in federal court that asserts the city does not have the authority to regulate nutrition disclosure, since that power resides exclusively with the FDA.

Not so, the FDA itself said in a friend-of-the-court brief that was filed on May 29. The agency, which has been expressly granted the right to specify and police what nutritional information is printed on grocery-store items, told the court that it doesn’t have a hammerlock on menu disclosure. Only if a restaurant makes a health-related claim—such as pronouncing an item life-prolonging or cholesterol-reducing—do FDA rules pre-empt state or local regulations, the agency said.

The take-away for state and local jurisdictions that want to require restaurants on their turf to divulge nutrition information for all menu items: Knock yourself out.

The filing by the FDA, which had been requested by the 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals, in effect scuttles the pre-emption challenge that a number of restaurant groups have either eyed or actually tried in their efforts to fend off labeling mandates. But the damage to the industry’s defense strategies could go farther than that.

As I’ve mentioned in a column, there’s a growing sensibility within the restaurant industry that menu-labeling requirements are going to be a new reality, no matter how unpleasant the trade might find them. It’s a tide that the business may simply not be able to hold back. Some broad-minded thinkers are proposing behind closed doors that the industry temper the effects by suggesting the federal government take the lead on menu disclosure.

That way, the proponents argue, chains would have to meet only one set of disclosure standards from coast to coast, instead of a hodgepodge of obligations that could vary from town to town. Chains that operate in both Seattle and New York, for instance, will be required to provide one set of info on the West Coast, and another type on the East. Branches in the two cities will almost certainly end up with different types of menus and menu boards, which may be still different from the ones required for Santa Clara or San Francisco Counties in California.

But now the FDA has said that Congress didn’t want it to regulate restaurants, so states, counties and municipalities are the ones to fill the void. I’m certainly no lobbyist, but it seems that the industry would have to push legislation through Congress that would call for menu regulation by the agency. It could be one of the smartest things the industry has ever done. But a firefight will almost certainly erupt as rank-and-file operators balk at the notion of asking for government regulation. In the minds of those who are still thinking in yesterday’s terms, it’d be like pushing for a tax increase.

And then there’s the wild card that was dealt to the industry just this past week. A group of consumers has sued Applebee’s and Brinker International for allegedly misstating the nutritional information they voluntarily post on their menus. The class action suits allege that Applebee’s understated the fat content of its Weight Watchers-branded selections, and that Brinker similarly bent the truth the same on Chili’s Guiltless Grill section.

Those brands voluntarily disclosed information and ended up getting sued. When chain after chain after chain is posting analytical data to meet disclosure requirements, won’t the industry become the barrel where litigation-minded lawyers and consumers can draw a bead on the next fat tuna they’d like to fillet in court?

If the industry does proceed with its efforts to legislate federal labeling regulation, it would be well served to also incorporate some defenses against bounty-hunting of that nature.

Politics as unusual

The public’s interest in politics has been honed to a keen edge by the uncertainty over who’ll be sitting in the Oval Office next February. But the restaurant industry has been doing less handicapping than hedging. Indeed, the trade’s main lobbying forces have been quietly seeking insurance of sorts to protect the trade’s political interests regardless of who prevails in the November election.

That was evident during last month’s board meeting of the National Restaurant Association. As we reported at the time, the group voted to pursue an initiative whereby restaurateurs would be solicited to work in the campaigns of whichever candidate drew their support. The objective was to have a member of the business inside the tents of what were then the three main candidates. “When they win, we want friends who were friends [to them] before they won,” explained Bob Leonard, the IHOP franchisee who heads the NRA’s Political Action Committee.

That effort to curry favor with Democrats as well as Republicans has been seen in other actions by the group, large and small. For instance, as was noted earlier in this space, the association lined up John McCain to deliver a keynote address at its annual mega-convention in Chicago. I and apparently others chided the NRA for always selecting a speaker from the more sympathetic side of the aisle instead of taking a nonpartisan approach to booking presenters. In press releases issued after McCain appeared, the association noted that Sens. Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama had been invited to appear as well but had declined. It didn’t sound like the same NRA that had once boasted about its insider status with the Republican White House. It was as if it quietly removed that elephant pin from its lapel.

Fast forward to earlier this week, when the association and its longtime ally, the National Council of Chain Restaurants, formally praised a new law that aims to protect restaurants from being sued for printing credit card expiration dates on charge receipts. Obviously the two groups had pushed for the measure. They succeeded in part by working with Rep. Barney Frank, the liberal Democrat from Massachusetts, and Sen. Chuck Schumer, a party standard-bearer from New York. These are not the industry’s usual allies.

The NRA and its usual cohorts haven’t switched allegiances, to be sure. The group reportedly spent $200,000 last week alone to help one of its own, former chairman Ed Tinsley, win the Republican nomination for a U.S. House of Representatives seat from New Mexico. The association has very expressly indicated that it wants a member of the industry inside the Capitol, watching out for the business and presumably working closely with it to promote favorable measures. It’s hardly standing on the sidelines in that contest, and the party it favors is no secret, at least in that Congressional race.

But clearly its striving to work with the party that’s quite possibly going to control both the White House and the Capitol next year.

Every time restaurateurs are surveyed about what they regard as their biggest concerns, burdensome politics and regulation rank high on the list. If the industry slipped into a partisan mode in the current environment, that concern may move even higher.

Instead the NRA and the NCCR are taking a more pragmatic course. And it could prove a smart one indeed.

Goody's no gum drop

Here, completely free of charge, is my suggestion for how McDonald’s should advertise the under-sung health move that it made today: As a camera pulls back, viewers see shadows starkly playing against a wall. It’s clear what the two people out of range are doing to make the images dance across the backdrop, even if they can’t be seen. Elbows are swung, holds are attempted and broken, a body is lifted and slammed to the ground. Grunts and outcries of pain are interrupted by taunts of “No trans fat to slow me down now, huh?,” “What, not enough niacin?” and “Oh, too few calories to keep going, Buttercup?” The frame pulls back to reveal Cindy Goody, the quick-service chain’s new U.S. director of nutrition, sitting atop a prone Marion Nestle, the famed nutrition gadfly, her arms firmly pinned to the ground. “Well,” says Goody, “I guess we know who’s going to be doing the talking about McDonald’s nutritional values from here on in.” Cue the “I’m lovin’ it” theme music.

A tad extreme, admittedly, but it does get across the point that McDonald’s USA has fortified itself with a well-known, highly respected new authority on family nutrition. Indeed, it’ll be harder for the diet activists to throw mud at the chain with Goody lending her reputation to Big Mac. This, after all, is the Ph.D holder who once crafted an article called “Snack Attack! Over 150 Guilt-free Treats for Healthy Munching.” And we’re not talking about a story in “Family Circle.” She wrote it for a professional journal called “The Diabetes Educator.” It’s just one of what appears to be a number of instances where Goody melded a scholarly and a popular approach to nutrition. If she manages to similarly synthesize those sensibilities for McDonald’s, she could be a formidable addition indeed: Nutritional science in a wrapper of plainspoken, sensible language.

Skeptics will no doubt disparage the hiring as a sop to the nutritional whiners. Nestle and her ilk carping again about too much fat or way too many calories? Quick, trot out Goody and a plate of Apple Dippers.

McDonald’s would deserve a skewering if that proves to be the case. But if it actually does tap Goody’s expertise to develop more healthful choices and teach the public some fundamentals about eating right, the development will be a goodie indeed.

Surgical scars from cutting costs?

The only thing that could make commodity costs any scarier is having your distributor sales rep show up in a hockey mask. No wonder restaurateurs are going to extremes to bring down their expenses. It should be even less of a surprise that some are now realizing they’ve gone too far.

The Le Madeleine bakery-café chain found that barrier last week, as it acknowledged to its hometown paper, The Dallas Morning News. As officials explained, local customers let the chain know loud and clear that they weren’t going to pay for bread they formerly got for free. The charge came to only 50 cents for two slices of the sourdough bread, and that was levied only if the patron didn’t buy an entrée, soup or salad. What’s more, the shift had been tested in other locations, reportedly with no fallout.

Not so in Dallas, where the chain has been a favorite for two decades. After receiving hundreds of e-mailed complaints, the chain discontinued the cost-cutting measure. “We made a mistake and we adjusted," CEO Mike Shumsky told the News.

A similar public admittance came Sunday from Eric Kozlowski, a co-owner of the Primanti’s restaurants in south Florida. When a moonshot in cheese and flour prices cost the Italian eateries an extra $2,400 a week in food purchases, the company switched to lower-quality flour for its pizzas, Kozlowski told The Miami Herald. Patrons couldn’t discern the change from the menu, but they could certainly taste it, according to Kozlowski. “I was saving money, but I was potentially chasing away some of my customers who are really pizza connoisseurs,” he told the Herald.

He and his partners reportedly switched back to the higher-grade flour and then raised the price of a large pie by $2.

According to the article, sales jumped 10 percent.

Judging the elasticity of consumer tastes may not be that easy. Recent days also brought an acknowledgement from Miller Brewing that consumers are trading down from premium brews to bargain-priced beers, which presumably would also cost restaurants less.

Who wants a CEO's job? Not some CEOs

This has been a day of eerie coincidences. Bombshell developments required us to change the top story on our website three times in roughly eight hours. In each instance, a big-name restaurant chief was leaving a sizable multi-chain company, to the gape-mouthed surprise of everyone else in the business. Russ Bendel from Cheesecake Factory, Ken Keymer from the parent company of Village Inn and Bakers Square, Clay Dover from Bennigan’s operator Metromedia Restaurant Group—each seemed firmly entrenched in the job, if for no other reason than the ink on his business cards had barely dried. The longest-serving among them (Keymer) had logged a mere 13 months in the job; the most recent to stake out the corner office (Dover) had been there just six months. (Bendel, for the record, had only nine months’ of wear on his office chair).

All persevered for far less than the three to four years that studies have pegged as the average time of service for a corporate top executive. It’d be easy to attribute the simultaneous changeovers at three radically different companies to sunspots, global warming or the behind-the-scenes meddling of mutant Steinbrenner offspring, were it not for another trend emerging in restaurant-executive employment.

Last week, we reported that Phil Hickey, the former CEO of LongHorn and Capital Grille parent Rare Hospitality, had bought the four-unit Jocks and Jills sports bar chain. Phil has the sort of resume that would make every headhunter in the country want to have him on speed-dial, regardless of the industry they served. And when Rare was sold to Darden last year, securities filings indicated that Hickey recieved enough of a payout to make work an option, not a requirement. Yet what does he do? He opts for something entrepreneurial.

Similarly, David Goronkin resigned last December as CEO of the Famous Dave’s barbecue chain to take the top day-to-day management job at Redstone American Grill, a start-up from the same concept creator who hatched Champps.

Perhaps not coincidentally, Bendel told Nation’s Restaurant News that he resigned as president and COO of Cheesecake’s restaurant division to pursue “an entrepreneurial opportunity.” He wouldn’t say what it was, but noted that he’ll be switching to the new undertaking in a matter of weeks.

Against that backdrop, it’s easy to understand why executives might stay in a top restaurant job for a shorter stretch than they did in the past. Metromedia’s Dover, for instance, readily acknowledged that he opted to leave because of disagreements with the company’s owners. The times are grueling, investor patience seems to have shortened, stakeholders insist on an active management role, and we’ve reached the age of the plug-in executive, where a chief may be brought in for a very specific task. Vicorp stressed that it chose Harem Ouf to succeed Keymer because of the newcomer’s experience in bringing companies out of Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection, where it slid during Keymer’s watch. (Keymer, for the record, said he would retire at the end of the week).

Restaurant executives can be ground up and spat out in no time in an environment like the present one. The job is so grueling that it's hard not to be dissatisfied--with the individual who's trying to fulfill it, or with the situation itself. No wonder so many seasoned pros are assessing the task of running a big public restaurant company and deciding it’s not for them. They’ve decided to forego the pressure, lessen the hassles, and get back to doing what they enjoyed. Why waste your fruitful years dodging bullets?

Regardless of which party opts for a CEO or president’s exit, there’s little doubt that the foodservice revolving door is going to spin a little faster in the months to come. We were actually investigating reports today that a top executive had left a fourth well-known restaurant company, but couldn’t get a confirmation from the concern itself. But stay tuned. He's likely to be one in a parade of executives who find themselves arising from a hot seat in the near future. By their employer's choice, or theirs.

'No-match'? How about 'no-sense'?

In another sign the donkey from “Shrek” is really running the country, a much-respected restaurant operator in Minneapolis is reportedly being picketed, petitioned, denied business, flayed on the internet and possibly left short-staffed, all because it followed the White House’s rules for countering illegal immigration. Straight from the files of Ripley‘s is this account of a company getting caught in a disastrous tug-of-war. And if that’s not enough of a sideshow draw, consider the really amazing part: It could be a preview of what’s in store for other restaurateurs if the government makes good on a pledge to drop more no-match letters into the mail within the next few weeks.

The tale began last fall when the D’Amico & Sons chain received a batch of the letters from the Social Security Administration. The letters, if you’ve strangely never had the experience of receiving one, alerts employers that the Social Security numbers provided by an employee don’t match the information in the agency’s data banks. Perhaps the numbers were assigned to someone with a different name, or the number just doesn’t exist. Or perhaps the new hire was recently married or divorced and is now using a different surname.

Regardless, the employer is given the heads-up that the discrepancy has to be reconciled. Otherwise, the Bush Administration would like the employees to be canned because they could be illegal immigrants using bogus I.D.s. It tried without success late last year to make that preference an obligation, but was thwarted by the courts.

In any case, D’Amico dutifully alerted the 15 or so employees of the no-match notices. According to reports by media ranging from Minneapolis Public Radio to the Twin Cities Daily Planet, the employees were given seven months to rectify the mismatches of information. Initially, according to the reports, the staffers were told to write the Administration. Later, D’Amico execs advised them to go visit agency and clear up the problems in person.

Only one employee apparently followed the counsel. The rest did not settle anything with Social Security. So D’Amico fired them at the end of March.

The company acknowledged that no-match letters aren’t yet grounds for firing people. But it also argued that some employers have been accused of helping illegal immigrants break the law because the companies had unresolved no-match letters in their files. The unheeded communications were taken as signs of complicity.

According to the MPR report, D’Amico said it terminated the employees, including several with more than a dozen years of tenure, because they didn’t follow the company’s directives.

The weeks since have made D’Amico the targets of such big-name dvocacy groups as the Students for a Democratic Society, the Industrial Workers of the World (better known as the Wobblies), and the sanctimonious-sounding Workers Interfaith Network. The discharged workers have also turned for assistance to the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, alleging that they were the victims of prejudice since all were Latinos.

Meanwhile, petitions have reportedly been drafted, and Minneapolis-based bulletin boards carry consumers’ accounts of seeing picket lines outside the restaurants they’ve known as customers. Some delivery trucks apparently refused to cross the pickets. The Wobblies claim that some D’Amico employees staged an impromptu sit-down at one restaurant.

“I went to D’Amicos often and loved their food and ambiance,” said one poster on the Daily Planet’s website. “I will be boycotting the company from now on.”

MPR said in its report that a banquet customer cancelled its booking with D’Amico because of the situation.

Meanwhile, the federal government apparently hasn’t commented on the situation, much less clarified the obligations and rights of both parties in the matter. Instead, it’s silently leaving D’Amico as its proxy.

After a court struck down the Bush administration’s efforts to require employers to fire staffers who can’t fix a no-match situation, officials from the Department of Homeland Security expressed confidence they’d eventually prevail in their efforts. It indicated at the time that it would address the objections that prompted a federal court in San Francisco to strike down the fix-it-or-nix-it aspect of the law. Among the flaws that were cited by the court was the mere 90 days that was granted to fix a mismatch in Social Security info. That and other concerns prompted the court to bar the Social Security Administration from sending out letters that threatened penalties. The SSA said it didn’t have time to fix the content and resume sending the no-match letters, and suspended the practice.

But the agency said it planned to address a court directive and resume sending no-match letters again in the spring of 2008. The season ends on June 19, or about three weeks from now.

Tales of the talks

Sit long enough in one spot at the NRA show and you’re likely to witness either an awards ceremony or a speech. Yet, my fellow sore-footed conventioneers, where was the event that tied the two together? Honors were bestowed for standout performances in any number of areas, from culinary-school academics to menu making. Similarly, I listened to more than 50 presentations from a podium during my four days at the show. Some of them clearly deserved the distinction of a prize. So here, to plug an obvious hole in the book-sized list of convention activities, is the inaugural presentation of the Outstanding Oratory Achievement Awards, popularly known as the Oo-Aahs.

Return of the Herminator: With Indiana Jones and Batman making their comebacks, is it any surprise that one of the industry’s own action heroes would strut back onto the stage? Herman Cain has been out of the business for eight or 10 years, working in politics and hosting a radio show in Atlanta. But he clearly hasn’t lost his touch for rousing an industry audience. The former head of the NRA and Godfather’s Pizza, who once shot up at a town-hall meeting to out-debate a stunned President Clinton, knocked the dust off chandeliers with two booming presentations. At a luncheon that brought together hospitality-school students and industry luminaries, the one-time senatorial candidate recounted how his father worked three jobs so he could realize his dream of buying a house where Cain and his brother would each have his own bed. “Twin beds?,” Cain boomed. “We’d been sharing a cot in the kitchen. We thought we’d died and gone to heaven.”

That night, at a gala where he was awarded the lofty distinction of Diplomate by the NRA Educational Foundation, Cain sounded a more somber tone. “Some of you may have heard that I had cancer,” he said in a voice that could slip deeper than a foghorn. “I say ‘had cancer,’ because I had cancer. I’m now 100 percent cancer free.” Word that he’d beaten Stage Four colon cancer, delivered in his evangelical style, had the audience roaring.

But he was no match for his fellow award-winner, a thoughtful, a bashful by comparison chef from Washington, D.C.

Ricchi rocks the house: The Diplomate designation was also bestowed that night on Chris Ricchi, chef-proprietor of Ristorante i Ricchi in the nation’s capital. Looking more like a surfer on spring break than a working mom with two grown children, Ricchi was profiled in a video that highlighted an aspect of her life that was unfamiliar to many of us. Ricchi’s son, the tape explained, had a disability that required his enrollment in a specialized school in the D.C. area. The place sounded like a wreck, with a leaky roof, grounds that had all the warmth of a war zone, and a food service whose only recognition would likely come from health authorities. An administrator recounted how Ricchi took a look at the place and calmly informed another parent, “We can do better.” She then proceeded to raise some $4 million for a transformation.

Taking the podium, Ricchi acknowledged that she’d raised the money by turning to her peers in the restaurant business, who “all opened their checkbooks.” Then she asked her children to stand, including the son whose life had been so powerfully affected by people in that very room. The applause could’ve been heard on the space station.

“This is it,” she roared with a fire that could only come from the heart. “This is what’s important. It’s all about how we can help others. And no one does it better than this industry.”

There were more napkins dabbing eyes than you’d see at a wedding.

But Ricchi wasn’t the only speaker to prompt the sort of sniffling you might hear from first graders on Day One of school. The industry was introduced the next morning to the well-spoken young director of training for Whataburger, who pulled no punches about where she came from.

‘I had to get out.’ “I grew up in Haines City, Fla., in a neighborhood where drugs were available 24 hours a day,” Nicole Jackson recounted in the printed bio that was handed out for the NRA’s Faces of Diversity Awards. “My mom worked a lot but partied a lot, so we lived with my grandmother.”

“We lived on public assistance, and I was told I could aspire to be a janitor or a maid,” she wrote. “I knew I had to get out.”

She did, ultimately picking the restaurant industry as her path. The first step was a crew position at a McDonald’s, earning $3.35 an hour. She quickly moved up there, was hired away by Krystal, and then by Whataburger. And there she was on Sunday, winning an award from the restaurant association for showing others how to climb out of their dire circumstances.

“It may seem like an award to you,” she told the directors of the National Restaurant Association. But for her, she explained, it was validation of the good she’d found in the job—not only for herself, but for the people with whom she worked every day. “We are counselors to 16-year-olds,” she exuberantly reminded the industry greybeards. “We are supplemental income because someone was a little short that month.”

Addressing some of the biggest names in the business, Jackson summoned an extra measure of volume and enthusiasm to let them know, “You wrote the lyrics to our new song. And we will pay it forward.”

On the rack at Steak n Shake

Back in feudal times, kings merely boiled alive the serfs who failed to deliver all the wheat that was demanded of them. Today we have the far more gruesome ritual of the quarterly conference call. Expensive suits clearly fail to protect public-company officials from being grilled by disgruntled portfolio managers. And seldom has the sizzle been louder than it was during the recent confab between analysts and the executives of Steak n Shake. When the company’s co-founder dials in to deliver her can of whup ass, you know it’s going to be a tough Q&A session for the folks from headquarters.

Not that they were snapping on the “Applause” sign for the company’s performance. “Unacceptable,” spat acting president Jeffrey Blade. “We remain dissatisfied.” That “we” presumably refers to the whole executive team, though Blade might have been speaking only for himself. In addition to holding the job of interim president, he’s also serving as chief financial officer, chief administrative officer and executive vice president. And, of course, spokesman during conference calls.

At least he’s not responsible for finding a permanent CEO. That task is being shouldered by the interim holder of the title, who’s also filling in as chairman. Here, in full, is an update on the search from that point person, Wayne L. Kelley: “Since beginning the search process back in February, we have seen several well-qualified and enthusiastic candidates and we remain optimistic that this process of obtaining our new CEO will be concluded in the near future.” The decision to hire a new CEO was made in August, by the way. The sort of search that Kelley detailed apparently takes a few months to get rolling.

That wasn’t okay with one of the callers. Sue Aramian is little known outside of Steak n Shake, but she should be hailed as an industry pioneer, along the lines of Jackie Trujillo or Gretchen Mathers. Long before there was a Women’s Foodservice Forum, she was blazing a trail that led to what may well be the first vice-chairmanship in the industry to held by a woman. Aramian quietly oversaw a company called Consolidated Products, known today as The Steak n Shake Co.

“My name is Sue Armanian,” she said during the Q&A portion of the call. “I have been asked many, many times to comment upon the company that I co-founded with E.W. Kelley in 1981. I have refused every request until this statement that I am making to you.”

According to a transcript provided by Seeking Alpha, the online financial-information clearing house, Aramian proceeded to take Blade and another Kelley to task. She cited a “vacuum of leadership” and the “intolerable manner” in which shareholders’ values have dropped.

“You have operated with the same team doing the same thing get the same results,” she asserted, describing the status quo as “undesired.”

Noting that employees have voiced similar concerns to her, she told the officials, “it all stems from lack of good leadership and an understanding and appreciation of the basic concept.”

Blade’s response, quoted here in full: “I don’t believe there was a question in that, so we’ll go on to the next question.”

Skinner to casual dining: Watch your prices

Jim Skinner, the CEO of McDonald's, offered some free advice to casual-dining executives during his keynote address yesterday afternoon at the National Restaurant Association's convention in Chicago. "If I were in casual dining, I would make sure I had an affordable menu, even if it had to hurt a little bit," he said. "That's where I'd spend my time, particularly today."

Skinner cautioned that he was speaking as a consumer, not as someone who's ever run a casual chain. Yet the readiness with which he offered that counsel in response to a question clearly indicated he'd thought about the matter from a business standpoint.

Earlier, he'd cited his own brand's offer of "everyday affordability" as the key reason for the chain's phenomenal success at a time when most chains are struggling.

"It's the most improtant thing right now with our customers, and you all know it," said Skinner.

"People like to say we benefit from a down economy. We do not," he said with considerable emphasis. He termed the chain "recession-resistant, not recession-proof."

Regardless of what type of restaurant or chain you run, he stressed, "now matter how good the experience is, if you don't have an affordable menu, you're going to have problems."

Miscellaneous stuff I learned at the NRA show

The National Restaurant Association’s annual convention abounds in educational sessions, including 14 on green issues alone. But many of the revelations come elsewhere, as these minor gems attest:

Who said restaurants don’t offer health insurance? Oh, sure, you may find an operator here or there that takes a progressive stance on benefits, and there’s always Starbucks, the exception that ostensibly proved the rule. But few people in the general public—much less those in the industry—would expect to find health coverage available from the mega-sized quick-service chains, where the size, turnover and young age of the workforce presumably pushed the benefit beyond the point of feasibility. Not so, McDonald’s CEO Jim Skinner revealed in his address to convention attendees this afternoon. All 9,000 of the franchisor’s company-operated restaurants now provide employees with access to coverage. But, Skinner acknowledged in one of several surprising flashes of candor, “it’s available, but not necessarily affordable.” He seemed to suggest that affordable health coverage is one of the goals the industry should pursue in collaboration, instead of each operation scrabbling in isolation. More on that in a later post.

New fruits are ready to drop on the U.S. market. You never know who you’ll see or hear among the tens of thousands who attend the restaurant show. Who, for instance, would have expected to catch a cameo appearance by New Zealand’s ambassador to the United States at the NRA’s board meeting? Yet there was Roy Ferguson (are you supposed to put an “Honorable” or something before his name?), talking about the efforts underway in his country to provide American restaurants with delectable new choices. Among the bunch, Ferguson said, are new fruits like the kiwi berry, a kiwi that could be eaten without being peeled.

But that’s not the only new fruit heading to the States. Tonight a group of us from Nation’s Restaurant News visited the Chicago outpost of Sushi Samba, the popular fusion-cuisine concept from New York. The concept’s Joanna Cisowska mentioned that the restaurant is participating in a Brazilian food festival, a first-of-its-kind event in the city that was scheduled to coincide with the convention. The festival is aimed not at consumers but at American restaurateurs who are visiting Chicago for the show. The government of Brazil hopes to promote the foods of that nation to restaurateurs from all over our country. Among the items they’ll be invited to sample is a fruit called cupacu, which Cisowska described as a new “super-fruit” that could be as warmly embraced by the health-conscious as acai. At the end of the meal, we were surprised with desserts that were made with cupacu, a purple puree that contrasted beautifully with the tapioca below it. Apparently it’s hardly a novelty in its native land.

Pasta prices are hard to hedge. Bakers can try to temper the spike in wheat costs by locking into long-term contracts or otherwise striving to hedge against the inflation. Not so with duram wheat, the sort that’s by pasta makers, a supplier explained. The market for that variation is purely transactional—buy what’s available at whatever price you can, without the benefit of long-term deals. He also revealed that the price of the wheat appears to have topped out.

James Brown has a following on the NRA board. Association director and Golden Corral chief executive Ted Fowler once described the board as “stale, male and pale,” Multicultural Outreach Committee chairman Daniel Halpern revealed to his fellow directors in explaining why his committee had been launched several years ago. Now, Halpern said, the diversification push is bringing results, though the board can’t let up in that effort. The situation, he said, brings to mind the words of “the poet James Brown: ‘I’m not asking you to give me anything. Just open the door and I’ll get it on my own.’” Get down, y’all.

Vegas hookers will run you $250 an hour. That nugget was overheard on the hotel shuttle bus from the convention hall. The speaker was apparently enlightening a less-worldly compatriot who mistakenly thought Sin City was all about gambling, shows, and eating the food of famous chefs. The forced listener looked as if he’d have paid $250 at that moment for a can of Lysol. Given the look of the speaker, he must have had a coupon to get the rate he cited.

Elephant & Castle has the best meatloaf in Chicago. Overheard during that same bus trip.

Curtain rises on Chicago restaurant show

The restaurant industry did its part today for Dr. Scholl’s and the trophy industry, converging on Chicago for its annual epic march through the aisles of McCormick Place, then rousing itself to cheer through a marathon of awards presentations. Yet the usual epidemic of blisters and vocal-chord strains were darkened this year by the whispered laments of business conditions. Operators started off cheerily, then slid into grim assessments of customer-traffic and food-cost trends. And suppliers glumly speculated that booth traffic would be tempered as operators cut back on the number of people they brought to the show, if they budgeted to come at all. Nor, they pointed out, are their ingredients costs any better than restaurateurs’.

Yet the aisles were crowded today at McCormick, with a healthy showing of red badges, that all-important sign of the operator. Trying to navigate my way through the nibblers, tire-kickers and serious shoppers, I spied a McDonald’s director, a top executive of Auntie Anne’s, a large contingent from White Castle, a number of onsite feeders, and more than a smattering of independents. It was hardly a scientific assessment. But equally casual assessments in past years found far fewer of those red badges.

In the way of trends, clearly the green movement is gaining share of tongue. It was a standard add-on to dialogues, as in, “and it’s sustainable, too, because….” Or, “how about the environmental impact?” I was sorry to miss a discussion this morning between culinary educators, students and industry officials, about what’s being taught to restaurant and hospitality students about ecological practices.

I suspect that I’ll notice a marked shift when I poke around the booths tomorrow toward the slanted. Certainly slanted tableware—a soup bowl whose bottom is slanted, so the liquid pools in the bottom for easier spooning, for instance—has been noticeable during some of my recent restaurant visits. The Gage, for instance, sells its wines-by-the-glass in small carafes that are skewed. Their bottom is flat, but the body and neck slant forward, making for a more dramatic presentation and easier pouring. More on this after I check the dishware booths in the next few days.

But undoubtedly the dominant talk of the show was about the difficulties of the time. One person cited a supplier whose costs have jumped by the scale of a moonshot because of escalating grain costs. Several recounted conversations where the participants wondered what casual-dining brands would disappear. Others speculated about what wounded brands in the market would likely be acquired, possibly for conversion.

It would have been nice to check the possibility of an acquisition with some of those brands. But it seems that several decided not to send their executives to the show this year.

The house party

A heads-up to National Restaurant Association show coordinators: There is a second political party out there, you know. The association served up a pleasant surprise Monday by announcing that John McCain is going to drop by the industry’s mega-get-together next week in Chicago, first to speak to attendees, then to powwow with industry leaders about travel and tourism. His participation will follow by two years the unscheduled appearance of President George W. Bush, one of a long line of political speakers that also includes his mother, Barbara (accompanied by her dog, Millie), Ronald Reagan (in his second post-White House public appearance), Gerald Ford and Herman Cain. In one of those uncanny coincidences that no bookmaker in Vegas could anticipate, all were Republican (though I can’t absolutely swear to Millie’s political persuasion).

It’s easy to see why. As James Carville quipped at his recent appearance at an industry event, “I’d like to say hello to all of my fellow Democrats. All eight of you.” This is a obviously a Republican industry. And the whole point of a convention is being with persons of your own calling.

It’s great that McCain will be addressing the NRA’s convention. Indeed, it’s a tribute to the association that it can land figures of that stature, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. This election is truly a race, with the outcome as uncertain as any I’ve witnessed. And you’re talking about someone who can recall listening to John F. Kennedy’s warning about some missiles in the place where Ricky Riccardo came from. A presentation by McCain could stimulating experience indeed.

But even rabid GOPers would have to acknowledge that their flag-bearer may not be the one voted into office six months from now. Nor is there any speculation about the Arizona senator’s claim to represent the team. His appearance may be more of a rah-rah event than a sobering moment of thought.

Face time with Obama or Clinton, in contrast, might have been far headier. If they’ll truly be enemies of the industry, isn’t it better to have a sit-down now, figuratively speaking? Where do they stand on industry issues like menu labeling, no-match letters or foreign tourism promotion? Inviting the trade’s adversaries might have been far more educational than a pep rally. And if the choice of the Democratic candidate has still yet to be decided, wouldn’t it be interesting to determine which one the industry would prefer to see in the race?

For all I know, the NRA did invite one or both of the Democratic contenders, and was turned down by each. Or that there might be a surprise last minute stop-by by one or both, akin to George W. Bush’s unexpected presentation in 2006.

That would be a pleasant surprise indeed, and I don’t say that because of my own political leanings. During times of political uncertainty like these, it’s better to learn what your adversaries are thinking than it is to review the points of agreement with the entrant you prefer.

The King, a spy?

Eric Schlosser, the muckraking author of “Fast Food Nation,” blew the cover this morning off a clandestine operation that explains why so many chain executives take their martinis shaken, not stirred. In an op-ed piece in the New York Times, Schlosser, about whom I have my own secrets to reveal, disclosed that Burger King has been secretly infiltrating a labor-affiliated group in Florida. Not that the group’s members work for BK, mind you. They’re students who sympathize with the workers who pick the Florida tomatoes that might end up as a Whopper garnish. BK, apparently fearing some sort of tomato-field uprising, hired a veteran spook to go undercover as a college student willing to work for the Student/Farmworker Alliance, according to Schlosser.

The best-selling author and crackerjack journalist said he was told by an unnamed BK executive that the chain had for years employed a shadowy company called Diplomatic Tactical Services for what the source termed “security-related matters.” In March, Schlosser said, those matters extended to infiltrating the Alliance, which supports the mission of the Coalition of Immokalee Workers. As we’ve often reported online, the CIW is pushing BK to pay an extra penny a pound for tomatoes, as McDonald’s and the quick-service chains of Yum! Brands have agreed. The CIW says the money would be used to improve the wages and living conditions of tomato pickers. But BK has refused, citing concerns about the legality of paying part of a wage to workers whom it doesn’t actually employ.

Schlosser doesn’t say exactly what BK hoped to accomplish if, as he alleges, the company paid someone to spy on the Alliance. But he cites the situation as another reason why safeguards against corporate surveillance should be enacted by Congress, if not written into the Constitution.

Lest you write off Schlosser as someone who warns of monsters under the bed because it sells books, consider the other reports that have come to light about BK executives’ other dealings with the CIW. The Fort Myers, Fla., News-Press reported yesterday that the franchisor is investigating Steve Grover, head of the chain’s food safety and quality control functions, for slamming the CIW in blog postings that were written under the screen name of his daughter. “Appropriate disciplinary action will be taken,” BK spokeswoman Denise Wilson was quoted as saying. In the story, she stressed that Grover acted independently, without so much as sympathy from the home office. She did not deny that Grover had written the messages, which the News-Press characterized as “derogatory.”

Yet Schlosser’s account fails to answer the question of why BK would bother to infiltrate a student group that has probably never heard of Che Guevara or Cesar Chavez. At a time of runaway food costs, sky-high construction costs and a severe slowdown in consumer spending, do farm workers or youngsters working on their behalf really pose a significant threat, never mind one that triggers covert operations? Shouldn’t BK’s operatives be trying to turn Ronald McDonald, or maybe waterboarding that pig-tailed redhead from Dublin, Ohio? At the very least it should be eavesdropping on that cue-ball-headed guy who makes commercials for Jack in the Box.

And, of course, there are my personal qualms about Schlosser’s integrity. Many years ago, sometime between “Fast Food Nation” and his subsequent book, “Reefer Madness,” he called me while I was serving as editor of an NRN competitor. He was trying to track down the source for an expert’s assertion that I’d recounted in a column. I had the source material on an audiotape, a piece of pr-MP3 technology known as a “cassette.” It was a recording of a Technomic recording from COEX, and you couldn’t readily find material of that sort in those pre-YouTube days. So he begged to borrow it, swearing he’d return it ASAP. But, alas, I’m still waiting.

Perhaps I should slag him in a blog.