Friday, April 22, 2011
The (so-called) Cougareat
When I was a kid and came to BYU during family vacations, it was still more of a cafeteria type place. I loved the food at the time, but even if it wasn't haute cuisine at least it was unique-ish to BYU. In other words, it was something at BYU that could be found nowhere else in the world.
Fast forward to today, and it's mostly filled with generic chain fast food places. Taco Bell, Subway, blah blah blah. Sure, these places aren't bad, but they're nothing to write home about. There are a few unique places (Sugar and Spice, for instance), but for the most part the place feels like it could be anywhere. Actually, no that's not true. It feels like it could be in any suburban mall. And I can think of no greater insult. (I heard students in the 90s actually wanted the Cougareat to be based on a mall food court. WTF.)
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Neon Trees
If it wasn't clear by now, I'm pretty biased in favor of the band, but that's largely because I've had a series of positive experiences with them. I've written about them for Rhombus, and the Daily Herald, twice. So go check them out and be one of the first people to listen to an awesome band.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
In-N-Out is a Typical Chain Resturant

More specifically, In-N-Out, as a chain, works against local communities in a number of ways. Most obviously, it siphons profits back to its California headquarters. Though it reportedly pays its employees well and ranks high in customer satisfaction, the bottom line is that the people getting the richest are concentrated in one central location. In my case, that location also happens to be hundreds of miles away.
In addition, the company competes with and undercuts more unique businesses that are based in the community. Someone will probably read this and complain that if those businesses can't compete they deserve to go under, but what options are available to them when confronted with the billions of dollars and virtually unlimited resources of a huge company? Without any real advertising budget or marketing strategists, it might take years for a local burger joint to achieve profitability. If In-N-Out decides to open a store nearby, they're immediately out of time to win over new customers. Entrepreneurial vigor obviously wilts and with it creativity and diversity. Because of the chain's clout and name recognition, then, consumers don't really have a chance to make informed decisions.
There are lots of reasons that In-N-Out, like all chains, is destructive to local communities, but the point here is that it isn't extraordinarily cool, unique, or better than other companies that are frequently lampooned as "evil corporations" in popular culture. It surely siphons less profits back to its corporate headquartes than McDonalds, but it still does it.
What is so surprising about this debate, however, is how thoroughly people believe in the image that In-N-Out is selling. Much like Apple Computers (which I use and love), In-N-Out has marketed an ethos of coolness, underdog values, and small-time business. Increasingly, however, the image is simply the result of slick corporate packaging. Compared to local businesses, the company merely puts a facade on a bloated profit-machine. They've essentially duped the consumer into thinking they're better than other chains, when in reality, they're the same.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Writing Negative Reviews
This week I went back and read Electron Deception’s negative show review from April (sorry, I'm not linking to that). I was really trying to see if any of our efforts to drive it down in the Google search results had worked (they hadn’t), but it got me thinking about the purpose of reviewing things, especially local things.
Ultimately, as I’ve considered this topic, I believe that writers who decide to cover local events should actually avoid giving negative reviews, at least initially. If communities are going to thrive and produce things (arts, restaurants, etc.) people have to actually go out and support those things; negative reviews, on the other hand, prompt people to avoid local activities and can contribute to increased isolation. Taken to their extreme, they also eventually kill off local endeavors and leave people with few options other than chain restaurants, generic music, and mediocre art.
I’m not suggesting here that writers simply lie and say that everything local is good. Instead, I would hope that when covering a community, they focus on the positive. If a restaurant, musician, etc. isn’t great, simply chose to cover something else. If at some point something becomes so big and so ubiquitous that members of the community have begun weighing on it with various opinions, then it might be time to start writing honest, hard-hitting reviews. I know that’s a nebulous distinction to make, but the vast majority of local entrepreneurs and artists aren’t becoming rich, famous, and powerful. Instead, they’re struggling to make ends meet and a single negative review can sometimes force them out of business.
Of course, negative reviews may prompt people to improve whatever it is they’re trying to sell. When Electron Deception got our scathing review we genuinely tried to address some of it’s more legitimate points. On the other hand, most of our efforts have never been heard by anyone; our shows often don’t have huge attendance and the review has certainly not done anything to improve that. In fact, despite our efforts, we think the negative review may have caused some people to not come see us, even after we’ve changed our sound considerably. If the people who wrote the review had wanted to improve the music scene they could simply given their suggestions to us privately, let us work on them, and waited to see what had happened. If they had done that we would have been happier of course, but local venues might have made more money when we played there (because more people would have wanted to come out) and parties would have been livelier (for the same reason). However, as it was, the negative review only dampened the music scene across the board.
Electron Deception is just one small band and few people will probably remember us, but I think this incident is illustrative of the anti-community effects of negative reviews generally. If a writer, blogger, or journalist decides to condemn a local theater production or restaurant, for example, people will go elsewhere. If you live in New York where there are hundreds (or thousands) of local performances and food establishments all the time this probably isn’t as big a deal. However, if you live in a mid-sized town (like Provo, Utah, for example) people don’t necessarily have other options. A scathing review of a single local theater production can thusly put an end to all or most of local theater generally. A bad review of a local restaurant can drive people to chains (which typically serve terrible food). In both situations innovation is stifled, local economies suffer, and people interact less with each other.
Journalists certainly don’t have the responsibility to advertise for local businesses and events. Journalistic integrity is important and should be defended. (I would argue, however, that that doesn’t apply to the blogosphere, where many local reviews take place. A negative review on a blog seems closer to cyberbulling than journalistic honesty to me.) Still, if we want to live in vibrant places where diversity and creativity abound, it’s important to ask ourselves if what we’re writing is going to bolster that community, or stifle it.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Local Location in Review: Muse Music Café
For a while now I’ve wanted to write up a review of Muse Music. As a member of Electron Deception now, as well as previous bands in the past, I’ve spent a handful of nights on the stage at Muse. More importantly, however, I keep going back as an audience member and café patron. The atmosphere is gritty and rock and roll, and the people who work there are among the coolest members of the local music scene. There’s also really good food and innovative community events. In other words, Muse Music is one of Provo’s most valuable treasures.
Food: Muse Music has been a staple of Provo’s music scene for a long time, but in recent years owners Jake and Melissa Haws converted the front half of the space from a record store to a full fledged café. The menu fluctuates somewhat: there used to be soups and other assorted items, but today they mostly just serve sandwiches and snacks. Still, the current offerings illustrate well the old cliché “only the strong will survive.” I’d recommend the Ultimate Grilled Cheese. I know, you can make a grilled cheese sandwich at your house, but you can’t make this sandwich at your house. I was skeptical at first too but now I’m hooked. The Turkey Pesto is a close second. There’s also a wide array of Italian Sodas. I’m not actually a huge fan of Italian Soda generally, but these ones are as good as any I’ve tried elsewhere, so if that’s your thing, go for it.
Atmosphere: One of the best parts about Muse Music is the way they’ve partitioned their space. You can treat it as a restaurant, a music venue, or some combination of both. If you’re not into local bands go pick up some food in the early evening and there’ll be a quiet cafe ambiance; if you want to feel like your in the thick of things, go later (they’re usually open late because of shows). One of my favorite things to do is to go see a band I like but when it gets too loud move to the café where I can still hear the music but it’s quiet enough to have a conversation. Also, check the calendar for special events. All summer they’ve been doing movie screenings on Monday nights and there are frequently acoustic nights, jazz nights, and free open mic nights. (Keep in mind that if you go to something free at Muse Music, it doesn’t hurt to buy a drink or something. That’s how they stay in business and pay the rent. Don’t mooch, it’s lame and if people don’t buy stuff obviously businesses go away.)
Service: The service at Muse Music is what I’d call “local.” That means that you might have to wait for the person taking concert admission money to finish and come make your sandwich, and that nothing operates with the slick efficiency of a franchise business. I think these things actually make the place more personable and charming, but if you’re expecting generic fast food (or if you’re just a jerk), you might be let down. In the end, the up side of “local” service is that if you go in a bunch, you’ll be remembered; if your friendly, you might have an interesting conversation with the person on the other side of the counter; if you hang out for a bit you might see some cool art or discover a new local band. Ultimately, Jake and Melissa are among the nicest, coolest people I’ve met and it seems like they hire people who take after them.
Whether you’re into local music or not, Muse Music is a great place to hang out, eat, and participate in local culture. It provides (much needed) continuity to the rapidly changing downtown area and, if you aren’t careful, it might make you start to fall in love with Provo.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The Golden Corral Hates Your Town
I’m no fan of chain restaurants, but The Golden Corral has recently crossed the line from an irritating big business to a malignant antagonist of local eateries.
In a TV commercial the chain is currently airing a man orders a number of normally expensive items from a local restaurant. The waiter is accommodating until the man says he wants everything for under ten dollars (or something close to it, I’m not sure about the exact value), at which point the waiter seemingly panics. The thesis of this ad is that while you can get the same menu items from local restaurants, The Golden Corral will undercut their local competitors and give your cheaper food. (I saw this commercial on TV and couldn't find it online anywhere. If anyone can I'd love to link to it.)
Like many commercials, this one was probably supposed to be funny and like many it also utterly fails in that regard. What’s more problematic however, is that the ad characterizes local restaurants as inept, buffoonish establishments that can’t compete with chains. This attitude brings the march of generic, mediocre food to our doorsteps as it tries to wipe out not only competing corporate restaurants, but local ones as well.
In reality, local restaurants are better than chains in nearly every way. They offer better food and usually competitive prices. (When they’re more expensive it’s usually because they serve better food.) On the other hand, chains like The Golden Corral have banal menus written in office suites. How that is a good thing I'll never know.
If this recent ad campaign were to completely accomplish its objective, no one would visit local restaurants any more. In turn, local restaurants would go out of business. Money would be siphoned away from local economies and there would be less innovation in the market place. I don’t necessarily think The Golden Corral intended for their ad to be as malicious as it is, but then again not many people who do bad things started off trying to be bad.
The ultimate result of this commercial is that The Golden Corral has cast itself as a corporate bully pushing around smaller businesses. There’s no reason to support that behavior. There’s no reason to endorse a company whose objectives also happen to be destructive to our communities. In the end, there’s no reason to eat at this restaurant.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Chain Restaurants/Don’t Go There
From time to time on this blog I’ve reviewed local restaurants. I hope to keep up that trend but right now I’d like to look at the operative word in that first sentence: local.
By and large I believe that, if you have the choice, it’s better to eat at a local restaurant. There’s a few reasons I believe this. First, there is the distinct possibility that the food will be better at a local place, and if it’s not it will still probably be unique. If you want a sandwich, for example, and decide to go to Subway, you know what you’re going to get. On the other hand, a local sandwich shop has the freedom to experiment with its menu and try new things. Those experiements may be delicious, but even if they aren’t better than Subway (which by the way isn’t bad), they’ll offer a one-of-a-kind eating experience. This idea seems to apply across the board; whether its local Italian verses The Olive Garden and Macaroni Grill, or the neighborhood diner verses McDonalds, Carl’s Jr., etc., my experience is that in each case the smarter culinary choice is to avoid the chains.
Besides the potential for better food, local restaurants almost always have a better environment. I always laugh/cringe when I walk into a Chili’s, Applebees, Red Robin, TGIFridays, take-your-pick-of-generic-Americana; they all look exactly the same (both from location to location, as well as from company to company). I remember ending up at one of these restaurants on my first visit to New York and wondering why it would be decorated exactly the same there as it was on the West Coast. How can there be so many restaurants filling the same bland niche? (Of course, the food at these places isn’t necessarily bad, they just tend to offer so much less in the way of environment than most local places. Also, the food at these restaurants isn’t particularly memorable.) Local restaurants, however, often have quirky environments that, if varying in their success at creating a desired ambiance, are usually much more stimulating than the props chosen by corporate headquarters to decorate chain restaurants.
My point here isn’t to argue for the complete elimination of chain restaurants but rather to suggest that when considering where to eat, thinking local should be the first response. Obviously there will be times when availability, price, or (bafflingly) even taste will lead people to choose chain restaurants. Also, most chain restaurants probably started out as local businesses and hopefully retain some of the spirit from their earlier days. Still, local eateries provide an experience that larger chains can only meagerly and unsuccessfully imitate. What’s more, eating local pumps more money into the community, which of course means more growth, opportunity, and progress locally.
Whether or not you believe in the “buy local” movements sweeping across the nation (and the world), eating at local restaurants is a way to have a rewarding culinary experience while supporting people who are probably your neighbors. I know that the next time I go out, I’ll be walking down the street to find a place instead of driving to the nearest chain.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Local Location in Review: State Street in Orem
State Street in Orem is probably one of the ugliest places on Earth. Or at least in Utah. Despite recent efforts in many Utah cities to revitalize, Orem seems to be using State Street as a way to actively drive people away.
State Street is lined with a lethal cocktail of seedy businesses, rundown buildings, and baffling congestion—all of which continue mile after mile. Things like second-hand car stereo venders, a run down used vacuum store, nameless motels, unfinished construction, and seemingly innumerable used car dealerships would probably be bad enough. Compounding the problem, however, is a massive seven lane road (including the center turn lane) with lights that have apparently been synchronized to ensure that people hit every red. It’s almost as if the city was trying to flaunt their lack of interest in beautification.
I’ve seen many ugly streets before, but what’s most troubling about State Street is the fact that it just keeps getting worse. For years I’d been surprised at the random mix of dilapidated businesses. Then, a few years ago two enormous buildings began construction. At first I was excited by this development; if the buildings were oddly out of place, they at least represented an effort to bring something new and interesting to Orem. Their mix of residential and commercial space also hinted at an exciting experiment in New Urban-esque development. Of course, however, construction stalled and nothing has happened for well over a year. Though there is an excellent pizzeria in one of them, neither of these buildings look finished and there seems to be no sign that they ever will be. Just when I thought State Street couldn’t get any worse, it became home to two monolithic trash heaps.
While State Street actually includes a surprising number of excellent businesses (like the nationally recognized Scooter Lounge and the Orem Library) many of these places are hard to find or lost altogether in the mix of nefarious-looking stores and flashing lights. Seriously, things like huge jumbo-trons look tasteless in most places but in Orem they’re just plain trashy.
If the recent financial meltdown wasn’t enough to show us the dangers of unregulated business, State Street in Orem should provide conclusive evidence. Whatever or whoever allowed anyone to do anything they wanted on the street should be subjected to a rapid and relentless referendum (I don’t expect that to happen, but it should and I hope it does). If Orem wants to live up to its self-declaired title of “Family City U.S.A.” something needs to change. Otherwise it might be time to consider a more accurate name, like “Meth Lab City U.S.A.”
Friday, June 12, 2009
Sensuous Sandwich
For several years after I moved to Provo I’d see the wooden façade of Sensuous Sandwich on Center Street and wonder just what went on inside. I liked the alliteration in the name, but I also wasn’t sure if I’d feel comfortable going inside, or that I wouldn’t need to take a shower afterward. Fortunately I eventually got curious (and hungry) enough to try it out. Since then, and after many visits, it has slowly become my favorite sandwich shop in all of Utah.
Entering Sensuous Sandwich the first thing you notice is that the décor is sort of tacky-chic. On my first visit I was actually surprised at the lack of visual cohesion. The walls and tables are covered in random old comic strips, 1980s anti-drug posters (this is your brain on drugs…), and Polaroid’s of people who have eaten 24-inch sandwiches. Combined with the florescent lighting, none of these things seemed to set the mood for a particularly comfortable meal. On the other hand, the more times I visit the more I’m impressed with how much I like the ambiance. It gives you enough to look at while not trying to use nostalgia to make up for mediocre food. While lesser restaurants would suffer from doing the same, Sensuous Sandwich can afford it. The décor also stands in stark contrast to the generic, market-researched trappings of larger chains. When you go in, you feel like you’re a local in a local business. You also get the feeling that an actual person put up all the posters and comics, and that they did so because they liked them, not because they thought it would sell more product.
While the atmosphere of Sensuous Sandwich makes you feel like a local, the venue’s greatest asset is its food. Like any small restaurant, the quality of eating experience depends significantly on what you get. Obviously some sandwiches, while good, aren’t far-and-away better than what you can find elsewhere. On the other hand, I’ve never had a sub even remotely as delicious as the “Spicy Enticer.” With pastrami, pepperoni, Italian sausage, and your choice of trappings (just get everything and choose cream cheese), this sandwich may well give you coronary heart disease, but if it does you’ll never be happier about it. I usually get the four or six inch sandwich, though it’s so good I routinely wish I could pack away more. My other favorite is “The Tantalizer,” but with each sandwich there are numerous customizing options; order what you think you’ll like but don’t be afraid to experiment. For example, I don’t usually like cream cheese, but I love it on the Spicy Enticer. Like the décor the sandwiches aren’t fancy, but they’ll fill you up and, more importantly, they taste delicious. Also, one of the best things about Sensuous Sandwich is that you pay by the inch. Sandwiches start at $2.69 four inches and go up from there. Generally, with those prices Sensuous Sandwich is also one of the most economic places you can eat.
In the end Sensuous Sandwich is one of those places that make me sad I won’t always live in Provo. For now however, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that it’s one of Utah County’s best culinary treasures. It’s small, local, and gritty enough to be unique, while also offering some of the best food you can find.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Local Location in Review: The Wash Hut
For a long time I lived only in places that had either washers and dryers in the apartment, or laundromats on site. Now, however, I rent a small house in Provo, Utah, just off 9th East, and (cool as the house is) it has no laundry facilities. Accordingly, Laura and I are required to do our laundry at local laundromats. Most commonly, we patronize The Wash Hut on the corner of 5th East and 6th North.
As laundromats go, The Wash Hut is pretty decent. It costs $1.50 to do a small load of laundry, and $2.50 for a large load. Drying is $0.25 per ten minutes (usually, though there have been times when it was mysteriously more or less). Though those prices seem like a rip-off to me, they are also comparable to and competitive with other laundromats in Provo, so they’re at least fair within the community. Also, The Wash Hut is large and has enough washers and dryers that I’ve never had trouble getting my wash done, even at busy times. It's open Monday through Saturday, 7 AM -11 PM.
Where the Wash Hut really excels is in all the extras it provides. First, there is usually someone present, in the office, in case something goes wrong. I’ve been to other facilities that seem like no one has come to clean up or do repairs since the 1990s. In The Wash Hut’s case, everything is clean-ish and in working order. While that might seem like the bare minimum for a decent laundromat, The Wash Hut also provides change machines, old arcade games, and free hangers. While having some of these things (like the change machines) might seem like common sense, The Wash Hut’s strength is that they actually work.
Probably the best thing about The Wash Hut is its free wireless Internet. As I write this, for example, I am actually doing my laundry. They have a protected network, but the password is posted on the office door. Given the size and potential for relative anonymity at the facility, it might be my new favorite wi-fi hotspot. (I actually hate going to cafes and stores to connect to the Internet. It seems like they’re never big enough or don’t have a place to sit, or have a line of customers trying to read my emails out of the corners of their eyes.)
In the end, you probably don’t want to spend all day hanging out at The Wash Hut, but if you need to do your laundry, send an email, or play an arcade game, its not a bad place to be. And while I wouldn’t recommend anything from the vending machines, if you choose to do your laundry at The Wash Hut you can rest assured that you clothes are getting clean and you won’t get mugged while waiting for them.