When Pasadena’s restaurants shut down everything but delivery and takeout one year ago, some owners thought they’d be hunkering down for three weeks of inconvenience.
Few predicted a year of regulatory whiplash that would force eateries to reinvent the way they did business over and over again, reshaping the city’s dining landscape in the process.
While many industries were battered by the pandemic, particularly those reliant on foot traffic such as retail shops and exercise studios, few had to deal with the everchanging slew of regulations like restaurants and their staffs.
And no business is more eager for a comeback. The restaurants that made it though the crisis will be allowed to kickstart indoor dining on Monday, as Los Angeles County moved into the less-restrictive red pandemic tier.
During the past year, employees were let go, only to get their jobs back a few weeks later — just to be furloughed or laid off weeks or days later when the rules would change again. It was a cycle, restaurant owners say, repeating itself every time infection rates swelled and dwindled.
A dearth of customers dealt a crushing blow to many establishments, particularly small ones without access to ample outdoor space — that is, after al fresco dining gave some a much-needed lifeline over the summer. But even bigger restaurants with plenty of patio space felt the squeeze, too.
Most are still doing a fraction of their normal business; some may face mounting deferred rent payments that could prove fatal. A number have closed up shop for good, while others — particularly some that closed in the early weeks of the pandemic — are looking to reopen.
As vaccination rates increase and infection rates fall, restaurateurs are seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, especially with the return of indoor dining. But they’re not out of the woods yet and some fear new surges could lead to new shutdowns.
‘No one knew how bad it would get.’
When the Great Maple shuttered its Pasadena location last March, spokeswoman Jen Cook thought it would be closed for three weeks.
“It just got exponentially worse every day,” Cook said.
Faced with higher infection rates, health officials in Los Angeles County and Pasadena were more restrictive than their counterparts in San Diego and Orange.
Even though the Great Maple dealt with a chaotic regulatory landscape in those locales, she said it was still more feasible to keep those restaurants open. The restrictions were looser and customers were more relaxed.
Not so much in Pasadena.
“It was heartbreaking for us and the staff,” she continued. “Nobody wants to get laid off. And nobody thought they were going to be laid off for an entire year, either. Nobody knew how bad it was going to get.”
They’d only start to look at reopening nearly a year later, Cook said, now eyeing March 22.
Among many restaurants, employees were hurt the worst — some forced to find other work when their owners closed up last year. A fraction returned for outdoor dining, but it was limited.
“They were only going to give me a few hours a week. And they paid okay, but how do you feed yourself, how do you feed a family, on $100 a week? It’s not easy,” said Armando Perez, a former waiter.
He declined to say where he previously worked, but said he was laid off in March and asked to come back in July.
By then, he started delivering food. Alongside coronavirus-related assistance, he was earning more money than he could have made with limited hours at the restaurant. But when the assistance ended, the math stopped making sense.
He started looking to wait tables again, but hasn’t been able to find a job. Most restaurants can’t afford too many staff members right now, he said, hopeful that indoor dining might open up more opportunities.
‘Patriotic duty’
While their livelihoods weren’t at stake, the city’s foodies felt the sting of closures, too.
“It’s silly to say now but when everything first closed up, it all just felt so dangerous,” Pasadena resident Monique Gonzales said in an interview. “We didn’t know anything. We were wiping down our grocery bags, we weren’t going nowhere. … Then we started seeing what was happening to these restaurants, these people, and getting takeout became something like a patriotic duty. … That’s how we justified it.”
Gonzales said her family used to eat out once a week or so, but pandemic exhaustion led to more and more spending on takeout. They were ordering out three or four times a week at some points.
“It got expensive,” she said, laughing. “We were totally addicted. But it felt like the only thing we could do to break up the days. And we were helping them stay in business.”
When Pasadena introduced outdoor dining, cordoning off swaths of Colorado Boulevard and other restaurant-centric thoroughfares, Gonzales said she waited a week or two before she thought it was safe enough and started going out with her partner.
“It was weirdly normal after so much abnormal,” she said.
Still, it was anything but normal for restaurateurs who had to buy everything from heat lamps to plexiglass dividers for tables. They built and decorated new patios; some bought tents to turn private parking lots into open air dining rooms.
It was an expensive proposition after months of depressed revenue, but it may have saved some businesses.
At the time, restaurateur Jack Huang, who owns Sorisso Bar-Celona and Ix Tapa Cantina in Old Pasadena, said he was making 20% of his normal revenue with just takeout and delivery.
Outdoor dining may have saved his restaurants, he said, getting his revenue up to 60% of what it once was, at least in good weather; cold and rainy days are tough on outdoor crowds.
Others, such as El Portal, are seeing half of their normal revenue with outdoor dining — up from just a quarter with takeout and delivery, owner Armando Ramirez said in an interview.
He doesn’t know if he would’ve made it through the year if the restaurant’s landlord hadn’t reduced their rent.
“It was a sad year,” he said, thinking back on the employees who would come to him crying, saying they couldn’t pay their rent. He felt useless. He couldn’t give them hours, he didn’t have enough customers. “It’s looking better now, but looking back on the year, it was just really hard.”
Winter chaos
Once they got setup outside, it was relatively smooth sailing for many restaurants with access to outdoor space. They weren’t always making a profit, but they weren’t losing nearly as much money either.
That is, until coronavirus infection rates started racing toward a precipitous peak in November.
Los Angeles County closed outdoor dining days before Thanksgiving. It was a devastating blow; many said holiday weeks were typically the most profitable of the year.
Some owners prepared their staff to be furloughed again, only to keep them on when Pasadena announced one day later it would leave outdoor dining open.
Countywide, residents flocked to the city. The money was good, relatively speaking.
It didn’t last long, however. About a week later, Gov. Gavin Newsom ordered outdoor dining closed as coronavirus cases skyrocketed.
Pasadena was forced to comply, and restaurants were kicked back to takeout and delivery. While the shutdown only lasted about a month, many started to complain about the shifting, unpredictable regulatory landscape.
Huang, owner of Sorisso, and many others worried their outdoor dining investments would be wasted.
While its Pasadena location was closed down, Cook said the Great Maple felt the whiplash in San Diego and Orange counties, too.
“What am I going to wake up to today?” Cook thought to herself every morning. “That’s how our employees, our manager, our owners were feeling.”
The return of indoor dining
For Pasadena and Los Angeles County, outdoor dining reopened in January. Now, one year after the pandemic shuttered restaurants, limited indoor dining is returning to the county.
Restaurant owners are cautiously optimistic.
“Right now, you can see on my employees’ faces, there is a little bit of cheer,” said Ramirez. “There’s a lot of sadness, yes, but now you’re seeing them smile. We’re getting busy. They have really good weekends and they’re happy to be making money again. We’re hoping to keep going.”
Indoor dining is limited to 25% of the room’s capacity, according to state, county and city regulations.
That’s not going to make a big difference for most large restaurants, owners say — maybe adding another 20% of revenue or so — but it’s just another sign that the light at the end of the tunnel is getting brighter.
Ramirez, however, isn’t putting all his eggs in one basket.
During profitable weeks, Ramirez said El Portal is putting some cash aside in case they’re forced to shutdown again.
Huang felt similarly, saying, “Nothing is guaranteed.”
He doesn’t think the indoor dining will be a big draw for customers; most will prefer to eat outside, he suspects. But it should help with revenue on cold or rainy days.
Gregg Smith, owner of Smitty’s Grill and other local haunts, agreed with Huang.
“As more people get shots in their arms, and the virus declines, we can go up to 50% or 75% (capacity), or even 100% one day,” Smith said. “All while doing it safely.”
The problem, according to Chamber of Commerce President Paul Little, is that some restaurants may not be paying all of their rent. They’re allowed to defer it for up to six months after the pandemic ends; Little is concerned that some eateries are just hanging on by a thread, but will go under when they’re forced to pay it back.
Alongside all of the restaurant owners, Little hoped the city would consider letting restaurants keep their outdoor dining setups open permanently, arguing that would help make up for lost revenues and perhaps keep some in business. The city has expressed an interest in keeping some of the structures up.
But until restaurants such as El Portal can seat as many customers as they used to, Ramirez and other owners won’t be able to bring back all of their employees.
He has half his employees back, and 25% indoor dining will let him hire two or three others — not many in the big picture. Much of his business depends on throwing private parties in one of their two private rooms.
“If you have fewer tables, maybe half the tables, you can only bring back half of the staff,” he said. “But we’re looking at getting everyone again so they can start providing for their families.”
“It’s been a long year,” he continued. “But it’s almost over, I hope.”
