Hotels, restaurants and consumers: what to look for on review websites

by Tom Johansmeyer on

Have you ever gotten mad after a hotel stay and, in the heat of the moment, dashed off a nasty review on TripAdvisor or Yelp? I was talking to some friends about this recently, and it seems the natural human reaction is to give feedback after a negative experience and to stay relatively silent when all has gone well.

Almost all of us have been there.

After all, there’s nothing quite like the feeling that your hard-earned cash has been sunk into an unsatisfying experience to get the blood boiling. When you get bad service or have a room that just doesn’t measure up – especially if you’ve spent hundreds (or even thousands) of bucks on your hotel stay, meal or flight – you need an outlet for your disappointment or anger. You may feel like you’re doing a service to the next traveler who’s thinking about following in your footsteps.
Well, it’s this situation that’s hit the news recently, with hotels and restaurants planning to sue TripAdvisor over the reviews left by its users. In Detroit, according to Slate, 24grille, a Detroit restaurant, tried to go after TripAdvisor over one anonymous comment, before giving up:

The suit went nowhere, as 24grille’s lawyers realized that the Communications Decency Act of 1996 gives sites like TripAdvisor immunity from being held liable for user comments, and they dropped the claim. (TripAdvisor, which screens reviews and reserves the right to remove any it deems dubious, did eventually delete the comment in question.)

At stake for all sectors of the hospitality industry is reputation, which comprises a large part of their brands. And, let’s be realistic: brand is what makes the sale in this industry. So, it pays to protect it at all costs … but in the right way.

The Slate article ponders the effectiveness of litigation, with the author “convinced these lawsuits are a terrible idea,” because it won’t provide sufficient brand or financial performance protection. Rather, the smarter move is to look for patterns to see if there are any ongoing or systemic problems that need to be addressed.

This makes perfect sense.

When I read a review – on Yelp, TripAdvisor or even from a professional critic – I take the extremes with a grain of salt. Further, I take the time to look at all the available feedback. One bad experience can be caused by anything from a bad day for the service provider (yes, entire companies can have bad days) to unrealistic expectations on the part of the reviewer. I’ve talked to a number of hospitality consumers who approach reviews with the same care and skepticism.

This thinking would work for hotels and restaurants, as well. Slate continues:

When we scan reviews online, we aren’t looking for gothchas-outlandish, one-off tales of awful experiences. Instead, we look for patterns. We make judgments based on the themes that emerge from many reviews, not from the crazy charges that appear in one or two. As such, there’s an obvious way for businesses to improve their online standings. Rather than trying to suppress a few negative reviews, they ought to work like mad to offer the kind of service that inspires a whole bunch of positive reviews.

When there is something worth noting, hotels and restaurants would be wise to pay attention. TripAdvisor, Yelp and other user-contributed review sites represent another channel by which guests can provide feedback, and ignoring them is tantamount to turning your back while a customer – disgruntled or not – is speaking.

The goal, therefore, is to sift through the anger and find the information that really matters – for management and guests. Look for trends, and use that to make a decision.

[photo by espensorvik via Flickr]

Eat like a Boston local at Santarpio’s

by Tom Johansmeyer on

I was almost disoriented when I stepped out of the Maverick Square subway station in East Boston. I hadn’t been back since moving to New York in 2004, and it was different – new and improved, as they say. Many of the same businesses surrounded the square, but I couldn’t get over the subway station. As I ambled down Chelsea Street, the East Boston with which I was familiar came back, but only briefly. Once I stepped into my favorite pizzeria, Santarpio’s, I was once again assaulted by change.

Before the smoking ban hit Boston, it wasn’t unusual to see guests and staff puffing away occasionally in this local joint. Aside from walls full of celebrity photos – the usual chest-beating of small, local restaurants – there wasn’t much in the way of aesthetic effort. Santarpio’s looked rundown, tired. Nonetheless, the staff was always highly motivated, and the rather meager menu was always fulfilled with ruthless efficiency.

I can’t count how many times I ran down to Santarpio’s when I lived in Eastie, either to eat there or pick something up to take back to my Maverick Street apartment. It was often enough that I had clear expectations upon my return six years later. I was ready to see a dive impervious to progress, a small corner of Boston that was exactly as I had left it.

I was simultaneously disappointed and not when I took my seat.

%Gallery-105678%Much was different. A fresh coat of paint found its way onto the walls, and the menu was longer. You could actually get garlic or sausage on your pizza! And, there seemed to be a few more beer choices in play. But, wine was served in the only glass size available (the same used for soda, water and beer), and the menu remained short, even if expanded. A neon, electronic jukebox hung on the wall. There were signs of progress all over the place.

In terms of what truly matters, though, I learned that nothing had changed. Even in a crowded restaurant – I went on a Saturday night – the waitress got to my table quickly, served the beer promptly and took the order … with the same ruthless efficiency I had experienced more than half a decade before. Amid all this, the service was friendly without letting smiles and pleasantries get in the way of speed and accuracy. You get what you order. You get it fast, and you get it hot.

Inside the kitchen, the only thing that changed was the faces, though even they may be the same (c’mon, it was six years ago!). The pizza-making process has not changed a bit, as reflected in the first bite I took. As soon as the cheese sauce and dough of this thin-crust delicacy hit my tongue, I was taken back in time. The taste of a Santarpio’s pizza is nearly ineffable, with the corn meal on the crust (in abundance) defining an aspect of the pie that’s usually relegated to obscurity, except in regards to thickness.

Given the texture of a Santarpio’s pizza, it is tempting to cut into it with a knife and eat it with a fork – the crust is that thin. Fight the urge! Pick it up, fold it and stuff it in your mouth. There’s no other way to make the experience complete.

Despite the initial shock I felt upon returning to my old neighborhood, I quickly realized that progress does not have to destroy tradition. Maverick Square did need a new subway station … as Santarpio’s did a new layer of paint on the walls. And, the “expanded” menu, I’ll concede, was a good idea. After all, I did get a pie with homemade sausage on it and absolutely loved it.

What I learned, walking back to the shiny subway stop down the street from where I used to live, was that advancement can shroud tradition protectively, preserving history by keeping the past from being obliterated completely. This cultural coating is how we can balance moving into the future with allowing what has shaped our trajectory to persist.

[photos by Laurie DePrete]

Pyongyang burger joint opens to wide popularity

by Tom Johansmeyer on

Pyongyang has its first hamburger joint, and the locals who can afford it are flocking to the place. With a name rooted firmly in propaganda – not exactly surprising – the restaurant serves distinctly American fare, though I doubt there’s a disclaimer on the menu.

Samtaesung, the name of the fast-food spot, translates to “Three Huge Stars,” an obvious reference to current leader Kim Jong-il, his father Kim Il-sung and the first dictator’s first wife, Kim Jong-suk.

Like the cuisine – and unlike the name – there is a distinctly capitalist flavor to this undertaking. The profits, such a loathsome term in a Communist regime, are going right to Kim Kyong-hui, the Dear Leader’s younger sister. The Korea Times reports:

“Samtaesung (Food) and Cool Beverages is Kim Kyong Hui’s personal operation. It is run by Light Industry Vice Minister and member of Kim Kyong Hui’s inner circle Kim Kyeong Oak, who is in charge of all operations of the hamburger joint, from management to overseas fund transfers,” the official said.

To pick up a burger at Pyongyang‘s Samtaesung, the crowds have made reservations necessary; you have to place your order a day in advance to grab some grub between 6 AM and 11 PM. You can’t make a reservation after 1 PM, because of the long lines that still pressure the 24-hour stand. In a further nod to the regime’s pride, North Korea has not adopted the word “hamburger,” as its neighbor’s to the south have. Rather, they call it “minced meat and bread, reports the Korea Times. Waffles, also on the menu, carry the appellation “baked dough.” Most people do use the term “hamburger,” though.

A burger will set you back around $2 at Samtaesung, making it an unattainable luxury to the average North Korean citizen. The fact that you can make your purchase in U.S. dollars, euros or Chinese yuan – in addition to North Korean won – further indicates the exclusive nature of this establishment.

Curiosity brought the traffic initially, but the locals have developed a taste or “minced meat and bread.” According to the Korea Times, “The third time you eat a hamburger, you really get to appreciate it. By the time you’ve had your fifth, you’re already addicted to the taste,” he said.

Crif Dogs: The Top Hotdogs in New York City

by Tom Johansmeyer on

The various hotdog-and-papaya joints scattered across Manhattan are great for a quick fix, but if you want to truly experience a hotdog’s potential, you have to schlep down to the East Village. Tucked away on St. Mark’s Place, just in from Avenue A, you’ll find Crif Dogs, an establishment that redefines what many consider to be the worst form of meat.

The small, dark restaurant has committed itself to the hotdog in a way like no place I’ve ever been. A few old arcade games greet you at the door, and the décor will not strike you as carefully planned. Linger at the cash register for a moment, and you’ll see a “Wicked Girl” action figure (if you don’t know that that is, leave a comment, and I’ll help you out). And, there are even a few secrets to be found around Crif … if you know where to look.

An expansive menu hangs above the counter, and it is littered with creations that even my lust for unhealthy eating didn’t equip me to fathom. The “Good Morning,” for example, is festooned with cheese, bacon and a fried egg. Bacon, in fact, features prominently on several Crif hotdogs, including the Chihuahua, which comes with guacamole and sour cream (these two are my favorites by far – the bacon is a big part of the reason why). There are other menu items, such as French fries and burgers, but I tend to skip them, preferring to order an extra dog rather than fill the limited space in my stomach with something else.

What Crif Dogs serves is among the best I’ve ever had, with the only competition coming from Popo’s in Swmascott, Massachusetts and a small stand just off Camp Casey in Tong Du Chon, South Korea (which may not even exist anymore – it’s been a dozen years since I last “dined” there). The dogs are hot, they snap and they are packed with flavor in a way that keeps the toppings from masking it. To call a Crif Dog a superior hotdog would be an understatement. And you won’t have any problems with the bun. Though it isn’t toasted (take this as a suggestion, Crif), it’s firm and dry.

Crif Dogs is a bit out of the way if you’re sticking to the usual tourist spots when visiting New York City, but it’s worth a subway hike (and then a walk) to sink your teeth into one of Crif’s creations. The experience is worth it.

[Thanks to @welshwonder for putting a few dogs back with me on my last trip to Crif]

The hidden danger of restaurant kitchens

by Sean McLachlan on

It’s often the dirtiest thing in the kitchen. Infrequently changed, always moist and often with raw food stuck to it, it’s a breeding ground for bacteria, yet it’s the very thing that diligent kitchen workers use to wipe their food preparation surfaces “clean.”

What is it? The dishcloth or sponge.

A new survey by the UK’s Health Protection Agency has found that a large percentage of dishcloths in restaurant kitchens contain potentially harmful bacteria. The HPA visited 120 kitchens and examined 133 cloths. They found that 86 cloths contained fecal bacteria, 21 had E. coli, 6 had Staphylococcus aureus, and 5 had Listeria. Even worse, 24 had been used both on preparation surfaces for raw meat and ready-to-eat foods.

The HPA warns that even restaurants that disinfect their cloths regularly aren’t doing enough, because simply soaking a cloth in bleach doesn’t remove the tiny food particles that attract bacteria. As soon as the cloth is taken out of the disinfectant, the bacteria start coming back.

So next time you’re in a restaurant, or your own kitchen for that matter, don’t ask how fresh the fish is, ask how fresh the dishcloth is.

[Image courtesy Anna Sacheri]