TIME: Almanac 1990/1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso/time/091889/09188900.068

Text File | 1990-09-17 | 4KB | 71 lines

FOOD, Page 96

A Dashing Way to Dine

Services deliver restaurant meals to couch-bound gourmets


    Drat! It's raining outside. Let's order in. Pizza again?
Chinese? Just for a change, my dear, let's try a pate de foie de
canard, an oyster salad, quail with grapes and, oh, let's be
daring, a tarte aux framboises.

    Time was, when you wanted such a meal, you had to go to a fancy
restaurant. No longer. In major cities from San Francisco to New
Orleans to New York City, home-delivery services are springing up
to rush gourmet fare from restaurants to the couch-bound affluent.
In addition, many top-of-the-line restaurants are delivering their
own plastic-packaged food, largely to combat the still lingering
drop in business since the 1987 market crash. As a result,
according to the Lempert Report, a food-industry newsletter, U.S.
restaurants expect to sell more than $10 billion worth of
home-delivered food in 1990, up from $2.6 billion in 1985.

    Typical of the trend is New York City's Dial-A-Dinner. Its
clients order by telephone from the menu of one of the 30
restaurants on its list. About an hour later, a tuxedo-clad waiter
appears, bearing large shopping bags full of plastic containers and
a bill -- usually well over $100 -- payable by credit card. "I'm
known as the doctor of delivery," declares David Blum, 31, the
entrepreneur who started Dial-A-Dinner 18 months ago. Now he has
22 people, 15 cars and six vans, all radio equipped, hurtling about
200 dinners a night across Manhattan. Among Blum's culinary
suppliers are Petrossian Paris, the famous caviar emporium, and
Shun Lee Palace, where the Peking duck costs $35.

    The Grand Bay Hotel in Coconut Grove, Fla., makes its own
deliveries by limousine. Its dishes -- ranging from lobster to
souffle -- arrive in plastic containers, although a full china
service and other accessories are sent on request. The average bill
for two, including tip: $100. Why are so many prepared to pay so
much for the thrill of eating in their own homes? "People want
convenience," says Jack Kellman of Chicago, who last year launched
a company called Room Service Delivery. "There's no baby sitter,
no parking and no coat check."

    San Francisco's Waiters on Wheels service, which opened for
business 18 months ago, delivers some 200 meals each night. Most
of its customers are two-income families whose idea of a swell
evening is dining in front of the VCR. Says the company's
president, Constantine Stathopoulos: "It's all about economics and
time. We give them more time to relax." Waiters on Wheels usually
gets a 20% to 30% discount from the restaurants, then charges
clients the regular restaurant prices. Other delivery services make
their money directly from the clients, charging a fee of 20% of the
menu prices.

    Since delivery time can be ruinous to certain dishes, some
chefs refuse to send out such items as fried chicken and
fresh-shucked oysters and clams. Manhattan's Water Club restaurant
stopped delivering food on a regular basis after a one-month trial
because, says owner Michael O'Keeffe, "fine meals have to be served
a few moments after being cooked." Other restaurateurs have devised
special techniques to deal with the time lag. Some chefs undercook
fish, for example, allowing it to continue heating in delivery
trucks' warming ovens. Pierre Saint-Denis, chef-owner of
Manhattan's Le Refuge, stabilizes his butter sauce with cream so
it doesn't resemble a stagnant pool by the time it reaches the
plate.

    Few customers, however, complain about curdled sauces or
curling asparagus tips. "It's always delivered just right," says
Manhattan investment banker Harry Ozawa. He treats himself to
home-delivered delicacies two or three times a week. Why? Because,
explains Ozawa, it's so much nicer than eating pizza every night.
At $125 or so a pop, it should be.