However, he didn’t notice the attention. Salume’s no celebrity; he’s a quick-service operator. He just kept looking at the neon burger with his big brown eyes and pointing at it. “I want that burger,” he said repeatedly.
After my photo shoot was completed, the sales people gave him their cards and talked about the value-added benefits of a giant neon hamburger sign. My task was completed. It was time to find another source.
“Take care, Eduardo.”
“You will have to come to my country for a Biggest burger,” he says.
Maybe I will someday.
The Young Pup
Colin Butts is rolling up a cord and stacking boxes at his booth when I show up. It was 5:31 p.m. on Monday, and the union workers were telling us to go. Butts, a baby-faced 25-year-old, is the marketing manager for Kalamazoo, Michigan-based Fabri-Kal. His company produces Greenware. I had hoped to talk to somebody at Butts’ booth for my Green Industry Practices story, and he was the only person who approached me. I must admit I brushed him off, thinking he was too young to really know anything about sustainable restaurant products. Then he spoke.
Butts tells me how the cups burn cleanly and that they’re 100-percent compostable. These cups, he says, lead to reduced fossil fuel usage and decreased landfill contamination. But he doesn’t just say these things; he passionately describes each detail as if he believed he was changing the world with his words. Politicians who don’t believe in global warming should hear Butts speak.
How could somebody so young know so much about something so new? I figure this kid to be an executive at a major restaurant-affiliated company someday. What am I saying? He’s already one position away from vice president. Look for him to be on the board of a major company in 15 years.
I snapped Butts’ photos. One day those images might be worth something.
The Passionate
My favorite experiences at the NRA Show are the private dinners at Chicago’s great restaurants. QSR Magazine hosted one of those Monday night at the Parthenon Restaurant in the Greek Town District.
I was the newbie to the group, but felt like I’d known everybody for years. The veterans ordered all sorts of epicurean appetizers, including Saganaki, Trigona, and a piece of fried “something” that I concluded was lamb shortbreads after QSR’s Greg Sanders and I each chewed on sections of the gooey organ. He didn’t like the brain; I thought it left a chalky aftertaste.
When our entrees arrived, people cut up their pork chops, lamb chops, braised lambs, and Kotopita, among other things, and put them on saucers and passed the food around the table. Can you imagine bank presidents sharing bites of their Athenian Broiled Chicken with their mid-level managers? Restaurant people want you to taste the same pleasures they’re enjoying. And on this night, there were a lot of samples to test. The food and spirits were extraordinary at moderate price points.
After dinner, a tanned black-haired man in a sports coat spoke about why he loves the food business, New Orleans—his home—and his mamma’s kitchen. He talked about the “storm,” and how the special New Orleans food and jazz music has kept the city together.
“I can go anywhere in the country and have a bowl of gumbo—that’s my taste of home,” he said. “That’s what we do in this business—we serve a bite of home.”
Indeed.