Independent.ie

Paying a hefty bill for the rip-off years

Restaurant critic Aingeala Flannery digests the recent claim that one in three Irish restaurants is now facing closure

I read with mixed feelings the news this week that one in three Irish restaurants is facing closure. Obviously I hoped that my favourite troughs weren't among the doomed, but it also struck me that one-third of the restaurants I review are disappointing on some level: food, value, service, decor, ambience, originality ... I could go on.

Would it really be such a tragedy if the cold, icy winds of recession separated the wheat from the chaff? I poured myself another cup of homemade coffee -- because I've had to cut my take-out cappuccino costs -- and I decided it would not.

Still, it made for a hot little headline: 21,000 jobs in jeopardy! And I suppose you can't blame the Restaurants Association of Ireland for trying.

In the run-up to the Budget, lobbyists representing everyone from artists to farmers have been hammering on the door of the Department of Finance and shouting "NOT ME!" through the letterbox.

So why not throw your lot in with the rest of them and type up a manifesto? A 10-point plan for salvation. Personally, I'd have whittled it down to three, but heck, if you can come up with 10 salient points that will save your hide without pilfering the public purse, then go for it.

So what has the RAI got in mind? Well, for starters (if you'll pardon the pun) they want to reduce the minimum wage from €8.65 to €7.65 an hour. This translates into a gross weekly wage of €306 -- before the 2pc income levy and PRSI are deducted.

What, pray tell, is the incentive for an individual on this wage to stay off the dole? Tips, I hear you say. But not everybody who works in a restaurant benefits from tips, and those who do often complain about gratuities being withheld by owners, particularly on credit cards.

Tips are a perk, not a wage, and they have (I'm reliably informed) fallen dramatically in line with the number of people eating out, and with the amount of money they, in turn, are willing to leave as a tip.

More reasonable demands include a reduction in local authority charges and introducing capital allowances for restaurant fit-outs. But then come two proposals which frankly beggar belief.

The first is a scheme allowing companies to claim back all the VAT they pay on corporate dining. Doesn't the RAI know that the good times are over -- not just for the restaurant industry, but for everybody?

Corporate dining has been packed away in a Louis Vuitton trunk, along with holiday homes and sports utility vehicles. It set sail last April, down the Swanee, in the direction of the economy.

If companies can't afford to pay their rent, their rates and their employees, what makes restaurant owners think they'll cough up for steak and Barolo?

Which brings us an idea with the potential to make Joe Duffy's switchboard explode: free public transport for all tourists over the age of 65. Why not give them medical cards and personal security devices while we're at it?

Maybe Santa would consider leaving his sleigh at home this year, and make his deliveries on Bus Eireann. So what if kids in Donegal don't get their toys until January?

Might I respectfully suggest an alternative? Take the money the tourist bus pass would cost and restore the Christmas bonus for Irish pensioners who can't afford to buy gifts for their grandchildren this Christmas.

It goes on ... and on ... and what it amounts to is a virtuoso performance at playing the poor mouth. There is, of course, a less palatable explanation as to why one-third of Irish restaurants are on the way out. And this is it: people have less money and they are more discerning about how they spend it.

In the boom years, restaurants sprang up like mushrooms around a cow pat, many run by people who would just as readily have sold you a jacuzzi or a trampoline.

But they saw there was money to be made in food; you could call it gastro-economical greed -- it was one of the least appealing features of the Celtic Tiger economy and I experienced it on a regular basis.

Lest you have forgotten, let me remind you how the water you were offered never came from a tap, it was sparkling or still, and it invariably cost a fortune. How often were you told you could have a table at seven o'clock, or at nine o'clock, but under no circumstances could you hang onto a table for the night?

And what about the elusive prix-fixe menu that nobody (except reviewers) had the nerve to ask for, in case they looked mean, or even worse -- poor?

Then at the end of it all, you'd get your bill and a gratuity would be included in the price, which you didn't notice in the dim light, after a bottle of wine, so you tipped anyway and nobody bothered to point out that you had added 25pc to the cost of your meal.

And then there was the mediocrity of the food. Basic pasta dishes commanding prices of up to €20, or you could be charged a tenner for a sandwich, so long as it was termed a panini and it came with some wilted lollo rosso and a fistful of "kettle chips".

Do we even need to discuss the wholesale fleecing we endured in the name of coffee? As much as €5 depending on how many short and skinny prefixes you ordered with it.

So rather than look for PRSI rebates in return for training staff -- who should be trained anyway -- it's time for restaurants to up their game. The ones who are serious about what they do, already have, and this is joyous news for the dining public.

While the Restaurants Association is claiming things have never been so grim, from my experience over the past few months, service and value have never been so good in Irish restaurants.

Set price menus are the norm, waiters are professionals and genuine chefs still strive to do their best, because that's how they're built.

Inevitably the recession will claim a few scalps -- not all of them deserved. But, generally speaking, good businesses can survive bad times and sometimes even thrive.

The fact that several excellent restaurants have opened in recent months casts doubt on the RAI's doom laden prognosis.

Restaurateurs, like the rest of us, are entitled to their pre-budget whinge, even if it does ring hollow.

Instead of begging for small mercies on Kildare Street, they should get back behind the stove and cut their tablecloths to measure.