How did we go into this Covid thing without our mommies and daddies telling us as kids, “Now, someday there is going to be an evil pandemic and you will need to be emotionally and fiscally prepared because if you think high school detention is a bummer, just wait until your first pandemic.”
Seriously, it’s Friday night at 7:59 pm and I’m writing from home to tell you about Brunch and Outdoor seating as if my life depends upon it. Truth be told, my life doesn’t depend on it (yet) because my wife is much smarter than I am. But through this waning wave of covid, I’m still spending every minute like my last because being forcibly shut down for 5 of the last 12 months wasn’t in my business plan and, let’s face it: who the heck knows what tomorrow will bring?
I don’t know how you’re doing, but I hope you’re doing alright. I hope the onset of optimism-fueled “reopenings” fills your head and heart with happiness, and that you are dreaming of a bigger year after a shrunken one. I am. I’m dreaming big. I don’t know if I’m too shellshocked about the past or too afraid to get my hopes up to start making plans yet, but my engines are revving and begging me to throw them into gear. Silver Lining #1: Lust for life.
I saw a few people do some cowardly, heartbreakingly selfish stuff during the pandemic (mostly from afar), but up close, I saw everyone around me do good. Non-stop, selfless, communal good. I wrote you all a mushy letter at Christmas time about this, so I’ll spare you here. Silver Lining #2: Goodness.
This pandemic has been big. If “goodness” is qualitative, “bigness” is quantitative. I doubt that any one of us lucky enough to be enjoying this morning is big enough that the mental, emotional or physical wreckage brought by this virus left us directly or tangentially unscathed. But we’re here; we found a way; we’ve persevered. We’ve proven that at least thus far, we’re bigger than this pandemic. Silver Lining #3: Size Matters.
Lastly, I’m so sick of polluting your inbox with twice-per-week emails to try to convince you that all of us at Tavern are worthy of your remembrance that if you and I had a “sick of it” contest, I’d be the 5:1 odds-on favorite. Desperate people do desperate things; forgive me. I finally get to go back to running a restaurant the way we do it best: up close and in person. I’ll send you a note every once in a while and tell you what’s new, but I’m done being a semi-weekly salesman. In the first of our “reopening days,” several customers wrote notes on credit card slips telling servers things like, “Your warm smile brightened our night,” or “it’s fun to see you again doing what you obviously love.” You don’t get to see my smile. But it’s big. Silver Lining #4: What used to be “routine,” now makes us smile. Contagiously.
…should be the short answer. We are on day 30 of “seven to nine days” awaiting Tavern’s overhead tarps. The truck is on it’s way from LAX and should deliver tomorrow (Sunday) or “Monday at the latest,” so I am told.
Give us a day and we’ll keep you dry and warm. Check tavernonkruse.com Monday night to check for availability of outdoor reservations.
INDOORS: WHAT’S NEW
The new menu is amazing as (evidenced at left).
We will return to “normal” operations the minute we get the patio open. While capacity is limited by the government, things are wonky by necessity.
We’ll extend table times for reservations back to normal lengths from the 1.5-1.75 hours we have had as we try to make sense of 25% and 50% capacity.
Happy hour will return to it’s normal time (3pm-5:45pm) from it’s current (2pm-4:45pm.
We will reopen reservations for seating at the bar and the Chef’s counter.