Want to dine out but have COVID misgivings? TNT food writer Kristine Sherred offers advice

Barely three months into my role as the food reporter for The News Tribune, COVID-19 upended the industry I moved here to cover.

The weeks leading up to the state-mandated closing of bars and restaurants tore at my heartstrings — not only because it is my job to visit them but also because I believe they are the soul of a society.

I was not prepared for that fateful Sunday in March when the doors I love to walk through began to close. Who was?

Governors’ orders to close restaurants and bars came down in Ohio and Illinois. With Washington home to one of the first known U.S. cases of COVID-19, I knew we were next.

I scrambled to connect with Tacoma’s restaurant owners to understand how they would handle this unknown. My colleague Drew Perine ran over to Doyle’s Pub that Monday — the last day of normalcy before an eventual 80-day stretch of an alternate reality — where owner Russ Heaton and chef Ben Marcus graciously agreed to spill their guts on camera. I cried.

Takeout is just not the same. I adore the interactions of dining in, the real plates and glass glassware, cold beer from the tap.

Cocktails to-go are cool, sure, but I’d rather watch the bartender stir gracefully than pour it into an Ikea cup at home, in the same kitchen I’ve stared at every day for the past three-and-a-half months.

So when June arrived and our time was clearly nigh, I wondered, “Do I want to go back?” Because it’s my job to guide you, I wondered if I should tell you to go back. Is a cold beer or a hot fry worth it?

Ultimately, I cannot make that decision for you. I will tell you that, of course, I have returned to restaurants and taprooms, always masked. Some are safer than others. Some are approaching the situation sincerely, others with reticence.

Frankly, how fellow customers treat themselves, each other and the staff who serve them is largely out of your control. What you can control is where you go and how you act.

Here is what I look for when I walk through that door.

SIGNAGE

An entrance without any recognition of coronavirus rules, whether straightforward (“Due to state regulations, all customers must wear a mask when not seated at their table) or pithy (“Wear a damn mask!”), should give you pause. In fact, I would not enter an establishment that seemingly ignored this bizarre moment.

Look for a sign at the door laying out the ground rules, which are state-mandated by public health officials and the governor. Some restaurants have tables, set up like a host stand, that almost block you from entering without running into it. That’s a good thing.

Ideally, an employee is tasked with manning the door, both to greet customers and explain the rules but also to ensure proper capacity counts. Restaurants are, however, likely to be short-staffed right now, as they are running on thinner-than-ever margins, so I would not consider an immediate greeter a deal breaker.

At one waterfront restaurant, for example, a server who happened to pass by the entrance when we arrived stopped to explain the rules verbally. That works, too.

Very few establishments seem to offer the customer log. It was originally mandatory for contact tracing purposes under the governor’s industry guidelines, but following backlash, customers can now choose whether to share their information. Chances are no one will ask.

SANITIZER

There should be sanitizer near the door and at high-touch points like bathrooms. After initial shortages, it seems we have figured out the sanitizer game. Use it upon entering and exiting and when returning from the restroom.

Pay attention to how and where employees are washing their hands and when they use hand sanitizer themselves.

Some people might feel comforted by gloves, but I don’t trust people to use them properly. Before restaurants closed in March, I visited one where management was requiring staff to wear disposable gloves. I watched a bartender clear glasses and dishes from the bar, remove clean glasses from the dishwasher and pass fresh food to a customer, hand over a checkbook, run a credit card, move condiment caddies, fill a water bottle — all with the same pair of gloves. I’d rather she wash her hands and sanitize.

Employees also should be sanitizing tables, chairs and other surfaces frequently. If done so within view of the customer, all the better.

“When you walk into the restaurant, everybody should be doing that,” said Dr. Anthony Fauci, director of the National Institute and Infectious Diseases, in conversation with chef and anti-hunger activist José Andrés, live-streamed on Instagram in May. “Your staff should do it until you’re tired of it.”

Asked if special air filters were necessary, Fauci said expecting restaurants to install those expensive systems was impractical, which brings me to my next point.

MASKS

Must I explain?

Employees should absolutely be wearing masks. Not only is it now a state mandate for everyone in public spaces, restaurant employees were already required to wear masks to reopen during Phase 2.

You, too, must now wear a mask when in public and unable to socially distance, and businesses must now refuse service to unmasked customers. As you walk into the restaurant, when you go to the bathroom, or any time you are not seated: wear a mask. (Exceptions to mask-wearing are few, according to officials, and alleged health claims to the contrary are generally false, experts say.)

Tables are spaced awkwardly six or more feet apart because the virus is far less likely to travel that distance. Do not put the staff serving you at risk. And please, for the love of restaurants, wear the mask in the bathroom stall. Privacy of toilet does not mean you have left a shared public space.

“A simple mask ... would be sufficient to overcome the concern you have,” Dr. Fauci told chef Andrés.

At one restaurant, a server said she enjoyed checking on tables outside because she didn’t have to keep her mask on. Sigh. At another, the server, who was the only front-of-house employee at the time, asked if we wanted him to wear a mask. Double sigh.

OUTDOOR SEATING

From my hometown to Florida, Arizona and Texas, bars and restaurants have been opened for weeks, barely a shutdown in sight. Yet the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention continues to consider takeout the lowest risk choice with COVID-19 circulating in our communities.

Adding onsite dining, even just outdoors, with reduced capacity and tables properly spaced increases risk, the CDC says. Indoor seating with the same restrictions means “even more risk.”

As Dr. Keith Jerome, who leads the University of Washington’s virology division, told The News Tribune’s Craig Sailor in May, “If you sit around the dinner table all night, even if people aren’t coughing, that little bit of virus coming out over time starts to become a larger and larger virus threat. You don’t get infected by one viral particle.”

The virus has been shown to survive for minutes rather than hours or days when exposed to heat, but scientists warn to cautiously approach the notion that summer will drastically slow down the spread of COVID-19.

Nonetheless, it’s appropriate to feel more comfortable outside.

I have prioritized establishments that offer outdoor seating. When available and weather-permitting, that’s where I sit, even when no one else is out there. (TNT Diner’s running list of reopened bars and restaurants denotes outdoor seating.) It’s more likely that tables are well-spaced on patios, and interactions with staff tend to be short and sweet.

Have I walked out of a restaurant I deemed too crowded indoors and either did not offer or did not have available outdoor seating at the time? Yes and yes.

TIME & SPACE

While I long to linger, sipping an espresso with dessert, or saying yes to another beer, now is not the time. The less time spent inside, or in the same place in public with other people, the better off you — and everyone else — will be.

Most restaurants I have visited these past few weeks have clearly taken the six-foot rule to heart. A foot here and a foot there doesn’t get me riled up, but you might feel differently. Don’t hesitate to ask to sit at another table or to ask if staff can move your table farther from your neighbor.

Whatever you do, do not move chairs and tables around right now. I am forever irked by people who think they can drag a chair across a dining room in normal times. In the COVID era, staff should, rightfully, chastise you for the attempt.

I’ve also seen some lamenting of establishments appearing to flout capacity restrictions. While impossible to tell offhand, don’t stay if you feel the place is more dense than it should be. A half-full restaurant, where tables are properly spaced more than six feet apart and the bar has no stools, sounds weird because it is.

SO, SHOULD I GO TO RESTAURANTS?

Despite the occasional misgivings, I have mostly relished this return to normalcy, but I have yet to reach any semblance of my pre-COVID going-out life, either professionally or personally.

I go in part because I must, but mostly I am going out because I love restaurants and the people who build them and keep them humming day after day, late night after early morning.

They need you right now, and in the mind of this food writer, we need them, too.

Be safe. Keep others safe. Do not be afraid, but do be cautious, and please, be kind.