Merrimack Valley Magazine

The New Standard – Local Restaurants Raising Safety Protocols

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The impact of COVID-19 on local restaurants has caused many to adapt to CDC guidelines as well as the wishes of their customers. As the warm weather began to give way to the cold last fall, restaurants that had promoted and even expanded their outdoor dining spaces had to close them. For Scott Plath, co-owner of the Stones Hospitality Group (Cobblestones of Lowell, Moonstones of Chelmsford and Stones #1 Social of Nashua), wiping down surfaces with disinfectants and having his staff wear masks wasn’t enough. Plath, who puts the safety of his staff and customers above anything else, installed three high-efficiency air particulate filtration systems in all his restaurants to combat airborne germs.

As the pandemic forced many restaurants to create an even safer environment for indoor dining, Kim Costello of the 1640 Hart House in Ipswich faced a unique challenge. Costello needed to transform a nearly 400-year-old establishment into a place where customers could dine safely while still enjoy the centuries old ambiance. With $20,000 worth of air filtration systems installed in her restaurant as well as distanced tables, Costello is confident in the 1640 Hart House’s safety. But she says it’s the hard work of staff and support of customers that has attributed to success amid the pandemic, “Our customers have been beyond supportive and extremely generous to staff.” Costello’s staff, whom she calls her “greatest asset,” have reciprocated their guests’ generosity with, she notes, safe and outstanding service.

A yearlong pandemic has caused unrelenting stress for local restaurant owners and their staff. Yet, many of them have shown their resilience and adaptability and have garnered great success despite the setbacks. Pat Lee, owner of The Horseshoe Grille in North Reading has nothing but praise for his staff who helped create a safe environment at his family restaurant. “We’re all trying to make the guests feel comfortable and confident that they’re in a safe environment,” says Lee, whose COVID-19 precautions range from an ionization filtration system to temporary menus. Lee believes that creating a healthy environment for his guests is just “part of our DNA” and he has no plans to relax his standards anytime soon.

restaurant safety
Top of page: Pat Lee, owner of The Horseshoe Grille in North Reading. Left: Scott Plath, co-owner of the Stones Hospitality Group. Right: Stones #1 Social of Nashua

The Mightiest Mollusk

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Oysters Bring Sophistication, and a Taste of the Wild, to Area Restaurants

Restaurateur Scott Plath was sitting at end of the Cobblestones bar when he noticed something peculiar on the chalkboard. Written on it were all the types of oysters the restaurant carried, with check marks next to the ones they were serving that day, as well as the location of where the oysters were farmed.

Plath, the owner of Cobblestones and Moonstones in Lowell and Chelmsford, respectively, studied the list and then turned to his chef, who had taken up the barstool next to him.

“Hey, Pauly,” he said. “Let me ask you a question. How come there are no West Coast oysters on the board? You’re never featuring any West Coast oysters. It’s all East Coast.”

Pauly cocked his head. “You’re f—ing kidding, right?” he said in his signature gravelly voice.

Plath gave him a puzzled look. “No. Do you see any West Coast oysters up there? They’re all East Coast.”

“You are freakin’ pulling my leg right now.”

“Really, I’m not joking with you right now. Explain it to me. I’m missing the joke.”

“You don’t remember telling me six months ago, ‘With all the great oysters on the East Coast, why would we just ship them across the country from the West Coast?’ ”

Plath patted him on the back. “Ah, I was just makin’ sure you were listening, Pauly.”

 

The conversation between the two men attests to the loyalty New Englanders have for local seafood. Despite the appeal of sweet-tasting West Coast oysters like the Kumamoto and Baynes Sound, the briny and salty taste of East Coast oysters like Crassotrea virginica, commonly called the Eastern oyster, dominate the landscape here.

Taste is only one dimension of these beloved bivalves. Oysters are also one of the most environmentally friendly organisms in the ocean.

“The bottom line is that oysters eat microscopic and nonmicroscopic algae,” said Alex Hay, co-owner of Mac’s Seafood and the Wellfleet Shellfish Co. “Algae needs nitrogen to survive, and so basically oysters are used in a well-balanced ecological setting to control the amount of algae that grows and the speed in which it grows by filtering the water.”

The science behind the oysters works like this: When algae blooms in the ocean, the green sludge creates a congestion that affects the ability of a fish to inhabit that environment. Oysters feed on algae while filtering up to 50 gallons of water per day. Feeding on algae helps keep the reefs alive and prevents the ocean floor from turning into a swampy nightmare. With the reefs alive, a habitat is maintained for smaller fish, which bring in bigger fish. It may be a drop in the ocean (pun, sadly, intended), but the oysters’ sustainability efforts are heralded. 

“[Oysters are] a huge benefit,” says Hay, who also serves on the Wellfleet Wastewater Committee, but makes clear that they’re not a silver bullet when it comes to controlling excess nitrogen levels in the estuaries. 

Unlike other types of farmed animals, oyster farming still takes place “in the wild.” All along the coast, oysters in cages feed in the same water as wild oysters. This allows the farmed oysters to deliver the same flavor as their wild cohorts, but also helps filter the water. Hay attests that the farmed oysters benefit the wild oysters because of their role in improving the water quality in their habitats.

Despite the potentially polarizing politics of aquaculture, farmed oysters far exceed wild oysters in restaurant sales.

Like the mollusk they’re serving, the purveyors of the oysters also try to do their part to help the environment by reducing their carbon footprint in oyster sales.

For Jim Dietz, the owner of Joe Fish in North Andover and North Reading, choosing to stick with East Coast oysters was less about taste and more about economics.

“Because there’s so much more transportation, the prices are higher [for West Coast oysters],” he said. “It’s not because they’re a better species, it’s because of the price.”

Before Joe Fish, Dietz cut his teeth in the seafood trade while working at Legal Sea Foods, the Massachusetts-based restaurant chain. He said his role allowed him to learn about the different species of fish, how they’re caught, why they’re caught, and how they’re stored.

Dietz learned from the farms how to buy and handle oysters, as well as how to clean them properly.

Left: Oysters can be both sophisticated and wild. Scott Plath, owner Cobblestones and Moonstones. Right: “Whenever I get an oyster,
I always taste it with nothing on it first…” Jim Dietz, owner Joe Fish.

Dietz and Plath both focused on seafood in their restaurants for the simple reason that there is a paucity of seafood options in Merrimack Valley.

Oysters can be the ticket to more foot traffic on weeknights. For many seafood restaurants buck-a-shuck promotions can turn a Monday or Tuesday night into one of the most successful nights of the week.

“Mondays, we’re doing the same amount of sales as a Friday,” Plath said.

“We call [buck-a-shuck] a loss leader,” he said. You break even or you even lose money to get people to flock [to your restaurant], but then we make money somewhere else, like at the bar.”

Oysters are unlike any appetizer. Imagine going on a date, ordering a glass of your favorite wine or beer, and asking your server, “What did you get shipped in for pickles today?”

Oysters are multidimensional. With different sizes, textures and salinity levels, the experience is customizable by the consumer. In Plath’s and Dietz’s restaurants, there are always different varieties of oysters to choose from. 

After inquiring about varieties, “The next question they ask is ‘which is the biggest’ or ‘which is the smallest,’” Plath said, noting that some consumers think that a larger oyster is a better value.

Typical garnishes for oysters include lemon juice, cocktail sauce, horseradish and Tabasco. But for the restaurant owners, the way to truly experience an oyster and its environment is by eating it naked.

“Whenever I get an oyster, I always taste it with nothing on it first,” Dietz said. “That way I can say it’s a very briny oyster, and I can tell if I like it.”

The culture of oysters is classy, sexy and palatable for foodies and first-timers to shellfish. 

“They’re hand-shucked, still alive, they’re glistening; they’re usually served on a bed of cracked ice, and then you’ve got the bright lemon and the bright cocktail sauce,” Plath said. “Oysters can be both sophisticated and wild.”   

Cobblestones
Lowell
(978) 970-2282
CobblestonesOfLowell.com

Joe Fish
North Andover and North Reading
(978) 685-3663 and (978) 207-0357
JoeFish.net

Moonstones
Chelmsford
(978) 256-7777
Moonstones110.com

[Please note that at the time of publication, the restaurants noted above were offering special services in response to the COVID-19 pandemic. Please call or visit their websites for updates.]

Come Together

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“Start Me Up.” The Rolling Stones. “Spirit in the Night.” Springsteen. “Stir It Up.” Bob Marley. Not more than a few weeks ago, we were rolling into Nashua, N.H., ready to rock a new restaurant while seeking song titles that would best embody our vibe — a bit more hip and socially dynamic version of our first two Stones.  

In painting the above picture, I was rallying our leadership team while off-loading some of the adrenaline that was pumping through my veins, every minute of every day. The opening of Stones Social was to occur nearly 12 years after Moonstones of Chelmsford, which arrived 14 years after Cobblestones of Lowell. I’m not what you might call “impulsive.” 

Yet here we were, discussing how we had launched our flagship with just three key holders. By the time we opened Moonstones, we were eight.  Now we were a team of 19 strong — leaders whom we entrusted with “our babies” — evidence of the proportionally greater opportunity and growth that comes with expansion.

Let the good times roll!

But less than a month after that euphoria, I painfully chronicle the results of this debilitating crisis — a pain that grows more acute with each word I type, laying bare our collective nightmare — all 80 of our employees laid off in the blink of an eye. Imagine. Having just one choice, and that being to force 100% of your beloved workforce into joblessness and fear. I cried that day.

 

Like millions of others, we are struggling mightily. Every minute of every day. The newly hired single mother who immediately sought our assistance for her baby, to the 25-year general manager who never before envisioned her career at risk. Many have no time to struggle with the why — they have mouths to feed.*

We are fraught with how to survive. With the redeployment of a courageous few, we have attempted to morph our hospitality-rich environment to batch cooking and packaging for pickup, maintaining a whole new level of safe practices while also our reputation for remarkable food. Our new normal — this business model formed to battle the mounting debt, fear and doubt that loom simultaneously, like a devil’s prong.

We are struggling, too, to understand. Commiserating recently over beers — properly spaced in case you are wondering — we grappled with the reality that none of us knows anyone who is sick. Not a family member, neighbor or friend. We see the news and are imperiled daily by the specter of the big picture — menaced by how we are now living. Healthy yet scared. Bored. Desperate. Shuttered. Uncertain. Bankrupt. And without hugs.

As a small group, we are currently doing what we do. We innovate and problem solve. Restaurant people are epic warriors. We protect each other’s families and our guests, as both are accustomed to relying on us for more than sustenance, but for care and comfort — a home away from home. Quite often we are the port in someone’s storm. But never quite like this. Not after Cobblestones’ fire of 2001 nor the Great Recession several years later. Back then, there was a level of certainty — a map of sorts where strategy had us moving toward a distant beacon, a glimpse that better days lay ahead. This feels different. 

Amidst it all, we are considered “essential,” permitted to drive to work each day upon empty roads. Like in those postapocalyptic movies — a lifeless wasteland — the lack of traffic the faintest of light in days otherwise filled with dread. Can we can save our businesses? Can we reemploy our people? Will relief and aid “bail” us out like the banks and the carmakers and the Wall Street folk of before. Or will we be offered only more debt? How essential are we really? Our political lobby is small. Despite our national workforce of 15.6 million people, or the billions we produce in taxes, we tremble on behalf of our industry and the many who live paycheck to paycheck.  

A friend and fellow business owner said to me early on in this mess how he had “never worked so hard for so little.” I smiled while comprehending how much we were factually working for. All of it — the whole damn thing, man. We are fighting to avoid the loss of a lifetime’s worth of dedication, effort, sacrifice and success.

Our lyrics today are a lot less emboldened, the beat less zippy — this titanic gulf from yesterday, when all our troubles seemed so far away. We preach that together we will pull through, hoping that a “minimum” of lives will be lost and that maybe proactive societal change will occur in respecting the science and heeding the warnings. Before the “next time.” Before it’s too late.   

*Should you be in a position to contribute to our suffering workforce, the Stones Hospitality Employee Relief Fund can be accessed by clicking here. Please stay safe.

A View from the Kitchen – Work Hard, Play Harder

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Not being a hypocrite can be hard.

Take this column, for example. Feeling overwhelmed on Martha’s Vineyard (I know, poor me), failing to relax on our annual family vacation, I text-requested my magazine boss to let me have this issue off — perhaps instead posting: Plath’s Gone Fishing. I need a vacation, I may have whined — he quickly reminding me that my last column was about, well, me actually having gone fishing.  

“… Don’t let that mindless thing get the best of you,” responded Mr. Sensitivity.

He asked whether it was a time challenge or the lack of an idea that was troubling me. I’m pretty sure he knew it wasn’t the idea thing — I can fire off 500 words about almost anything with my eyes closed. In fact, I often wake up with a story streaming through my mind, eyes opening at first light … seeking my at-the-ready bedside pen! (No typing into the phone from bed. No phone in my safe place. Just sayin’.)

The fact was, I had already begun a piece about the fun aspects of restaurants and bars, beyond the food, beverage and hospitality —thus far having failed to dedicate the time it deserved, between negotiations, new restaurant initiatives, planning for the immense Lowell Folk Festival and, oh yeah, packing for our post-festival vacation.

“So then …” according to Peggy McFarland, a fellow writer and my GM at Moonstones, “… he out-Plathed Plath?” (She reveled in that concept, by the way.)

Peggy knows all too well, as I have preached for many years, that there is no such excuse as “not enough time.” I rail on: “If you slept last night, there was time. You made a choice.”  

(Now, I’m guessing I maybe know what you’re thinking at this moment, and I feel safe in saying you’re not wrong.)  

But if not today, then tomorrow. That’s my general skew. The struggle for me personally is less about time and more about focus — it’s whether, in the time I do have, my mind can get my mind under control! (Queue Dave Matthews: “My head won’t leave my head alone…”) Also, I get distracted. I like shiny things. In general, I say yes. When Johnny jumped off the bridge, you bet I jumped, too. It’s now called “fomo.”

In this particular moment of weakness, “tomorrow” would include an early morning tee time at the stunning Farm Neck Golf Club in Oak Bluffs, followed by an impromptu and glorious midday nap — sheets and shades drawn tightly with the cabin AC on full blast. That blissful snooze would precede an afternoon drive “up island” to the serenity of Aquinnah, aka Gay Head, and the clay cliffs — the most beautiful beach I have ever been on. Following two hours of relentless sea, sand and waning light, we’d be making the pink-sky drive a few miles along the shimmering, boat and stone wall-speckled coast to the tiny fishing village of Menemsha for the sunset and our annual end-of-vacation lobster dinner at nostalgic Home Port Restaurant. 

If you, like Peggy, are thinking, “Hmm, sounds like he surely has the time,” once again, you’d be right. Choices. There’s always tomorrow then, yet each one repeatedly managing to obscure my deadline!

With this year’s vacation cut short by a blooming love, farmers in fact, we were hopping an early ferry that next day to begin the three-hour trip back to Lowell for a two-hour stopover — to swap beach clothes for mountain-slash-wedding attire and fire off a few emails, my life’s copilot also squeezing in the mani-pedi-hair appointment hat trick as I high-stepped through each restaurant gleefully chirping my presence and positivity: “Hello, how are you, hiya, I’m Scott, everything looks great” … while also reloading the cooler. (Ownership has its privileges!)

Then, it was back in the car for another two-hour drive to Waterville Valley, destined for yet another destination wedding — this welcome trend a column for another day. (Mountains, farms, barns, lodges, bonfires, log cabins, cows in the meadow, seating assignments stuck into apples. … So happy to say so long to windowless function rooms and baked stuffed chicken!)

Did I mention that my clever magazine boss suggested I write about the benefits of being busy: “You’re always busy doing something, be it playing hard or working hard, so that’s no excuse.” Thanks Capt. Obvious. Sigh.

After two late nights of matrimonial-related celebration, trying to keep pace with “da yewts,” my wife and I made the sleepy drive home, so ready for our own bed. Along the way, we stopped at the popular Tilt’n Diner for some comfort-based sustenance and Cracker Barrel-like kitsch.

At the front of the line, Hula-Hoops hung from the host stand, inviting guests to give one a try while waiting for a table. Fun,
I thought, while wondering whether gyrating my substantial body in the lobby would get me seated quicker. This might actually make the next column … time permitting, of course.  


Scott Plath, along with his wife Kathleen, owns Cobblestones of Lowell and moonstones, in Chelmsford, Mass. Scott possesses a deep well of humorous and insightful stories, which are available on this website.

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