Carlton Fletcher: Learning to think like a foodie

Aug. 31—"There was ham and there was turkey, there was caviar. Long, tall glasses with wine up to he-yar."

— Leo Sayer

People like to eat.

No, that's not right. People love to eat. They love to talk about food, and a whole lot of them like to take pictures of the food they're about to eat and send it to friends on social media.

(Reason No. 876 not to go on social media.)

I've spent a lot of time the last few days talking to people about food, about restaurants opening up (see story on Page 1A), about restaurants closing down, about the dearth of reliable workers willing to work in restaurants (the kind who won't spit in your food if they get angry or invoke the 5-second rule), about the higher prices for a lot less food that has become a norm in the food industry.

I've never really even thought a lot about food, except every now and then when I'm craving chicken and dumplings, jambalaya, or Cuban sandwiches. Sure, I've always liked certain foods, but growing up, food was always just one of the necessities provided for sustenance. When you grow up that way, you learn not only to just tolerate bologna (yes, in our house it was baloney) and the kind of mac and cheese whose cheese is some kind of powder, you learn to like it. (And your palate remains screwed up for life.)

I've watched, in wonder at first, because it was foreign to me, cooking shows become all the rage. I always wondered why anyone would ever watch such must-not-see TV, but let you find yourself in a house where others are tuned in, and you'll start to get it. (I can now say — and I'm not exactly proud of this, but it's the truth — that I'd rather watch an episode of "Chopped" — especially one when they've got those weird ingredients that just hearing about them makes you want to hurl the baloney sandwich you just ate — than an NFL broadcast. And it's not just that pro football has become a sport of "enlightened millionaires" who forgot how much fun it is to just play the game. Sigh)

Talking to local restaurateurs — and, yes, that's what my friends B.J. and Lisa are best at, although they each can do a million other things — in the wake of the pandemic that forced many restaurants out of business is eye-opening. The ones not lucky enough to get PPP loans that kind of allowed owners to do very little and hold onto their collective food empires are some of the hardest-working people you'll find. Spend a day with one, follow them around and see what all they have to do, and you'll probably stick with your gig as a member of the bomb demolition squad ... it's less stress-inducing.

Just like every other business, you can have some really great food and offer superb customer service, but if the stars aren't exactly aligned, your restaurant is doomed to failure. As noted above, people love food. And there are no easily readable clues that assure owners what foods they need to serve to keep the customers coming in.

I hope these new restaurants in Albany do well. I hope they fill the void left when the pandemic forced a number of eating establishments out of business. I hope the restaurants that were presumed dead or dying make a comeback worthy of a five-run rally in the ninth. I hope these excited new owners — who obviously love cooking and serving good food — realize their dreams and prove the naysayers wrong. (I.e. the negative Facebook posts that take swipes at establishments before they've even opened their doors ... reason No. 877.)

Food has become the ultimate draw in popular culture, chefs the superstars who are replacing athletes as our most admired celebrities. I never thought I'd see the day. But as one who now appreciates good food — and good cooks — I can only wish us all bon appetite.