What happened to hospitality?

“We are not a hospitality industry right now - we’re a service industry.

There is no pride. Chefs cook for stars. Bartenders compete. Sommeliers clamour to be on TV. Farmers and winemakers have become celebrities.

We are simply taking orders and bringing food to customers.”

Kasra Khorramnejad, Wine Director, Mimi’s Chinese, Toronto

The dictionary defines hospitality as “The act or practice of one who is hospitable; reception and entertainment of strangers or guests without reward, or with liberality and kindness.” When was the last time you were treated this way when dining out?

Upon moving to Toronto, I naively anticipated greener pastures - the cultural desert of my hometown, Kelowna, deemed subpar to the premium experiences and restaurants awaiting me in the “center of the universe”.

Yet, it was the exact opposite that my partner, Andreas, and I encountered on far too regular a basis.

Snide remarks, snotty quips in reference to the too-cheap-bottle ordered, a nonexistent interest to engage, a bartender’s turned back upon making eye contact as we walked through the door, water glasses left empty for the duration of meals, and an almost sinister like pleasure in treating us with a callous, adolescent like attitude, as though our mere presence was a burden. Did I mention these were the award winning, “must visit” restaurants endlessly praised in the media?

I started to wonder if we weren’t the only ones experiencing this widespread death of hospitality - surely there were still places out there that espoused traditional values - but where were they?

Because we weren’t interested in spending $500 each time we went out simply to ensure good service - we began to eschew mainstream spots, especially those that wielded clout - the types of purveyors generally not interested in building relationships with their guests - and instead began a quest seeking out old school, traditional joints.

Once, it was a restaurant on the Danforth that brought to mind the concept of Greek hospitality - a belief deeply embedded in ancient tradition that built an entire culture around a code of conduct preaching the tenets of generosity and courtesy to strangers - no matter their status - thus creating a genial relationship between host and guest. (Alanna Shilling, 2018)

Another time, it was a 30 plus years old Portuguese establishment with a revolving door of regulars who would greet you like an old friend, where you found yourself embracing these new connections at the end of the visit.

What these establishments lacked in polished veneer, they made up for in decorum, camaraderie and repartee. That the interior design was decades old or the hottest natural wines by the glass nonexistent, didn’t matter - they made you feel as though you were a long lost cousin, keeping your glass overflowing.

Will Guidara expresses this sentiment in his new book, Unreasonable Hospitality: The Remarkable Power of Giving People More Than They Expect , “In restaurants, we can help people celebrate some of the most important moments in their lives. Conversely, we can give them the grace to forget about the most difficult ones. We can inspire people through our attention to detail. We can make the world a much nicer place by being really, really nice to everyone who walks through our doors. If you dig deep enough, you can find incredible importance in any work, no matter the industry.”

Of course our bad experiences were sprinkled with - albeit rare - exceptional ones, a particular visit resonant when I went to BC to visit wineries in the Fraser Valley.

I’d long been a fan girl of winery, Whispering Horse, and had engaged in a digital relationship for years, finally having the opportunity to meet owners Laurent Fadanni and Melissa Giesbrecht who welcomed us with open arms into their gorgeous home in the small town of Yarrow.

The setting was stunning, and it seemed with each passing moment, were showering us with yet another platter of food that appeared as though it had been styled by the likes of Vogue. As the night wore on, Laurent would coquettishly whisk away to the cellar, excitedly return with some banger of a bottle he couldn’t wait to open, and regale its story with a childlike rapture.

It’s remained a favourite memory ever since, and has set the bar high. I reached out to the painfully chic and humble couple, asking how they achieve such a standard when hosting guests:

“it's really about welcoming people into your 'world', being yourself and sharing with them your passions, who you are, while learning about them and connecting.

Our inspiration comes from Laurent's Italian family, where hospitality is warm, alla famiiliga style, and simple. It all feels so natural and unpretentious, no performance or hiding behind facades - just real, authentic moments filled with overflowing bowls of pasta, made effortlessly by Laurent’s Aunt, bread scattered around the table, bottles of wine, cheese, prosciutto enveloped by lots of discussions, yelling, and laughing. There is a cultural art to hosting with such ease, opening your door to strangers, and warmly welcoming them like family.”

Cultural differences of course exist - but in a city like Toronto, known for its diversity and melting pot of citizens, why are the disparities so great from community to community?

A recent Twitter debate sparked a similar conversation, remarking the vast differences between customs in Sweden, where many bemoaned the lack of hospitality, versus a country like Saudi Arabia, where the local door to door census workers are invited inside for a meal, “some Swedes think feeding a guest creates a sense of obligation, and in a society that values equality and independence, people don’t want to put a burden on someone or feel like they owe someone something.”

Could it be that progressive countries are less hospitable all in the name of equality?

Western societies’ obsession with progress often overrides a need for a moral compass. Where traditions may have formerly have reigned - beacons instilling values of hospitality, common in religions like Christianity - are now replaced with the trend of repressive tolerance. Professor Rosaria Butterfield touches on this connection, observing “Hospitality that gathers others isn’t charity or kindness; rather, it takes the gospel upstream of the culture war. When we are in each other’s lives daily, we are not operating with ignorance or stereotypes about other people and their “lifestyles.” We don’t have to wonder what our unbelieving neighbor thinks about us, because he is sitting right here, passing the potatoes and telling us exactly what he thinks.”

The practice of “making room at the table” extends to cultures the world over, yet it’s a custom not common in the west, where divisiveness tends to dominate. Silk Road Explore shares the example of nomadic tribes in Kyrgystan, “The East is famous for their hospitality and treatment of guests. In Kyrgyzstan, people that excel at hospitality are the nomads that live scattered about in the Tien Shan and Pamir-Alai Mountains that blanket the country. Hospitality is a highly valued aspect of Kyrgyz culture and you will clearly see this on display when you spend time with nomads in their yurts.”

A sentiment widely shared in western culture is a lack of community support - in the pursuit of global social justice, we have neglected to take care of our neighbours. Kaleigh Jorgensen, co-proprietor of cidery Creek & Gully on the Naramata bench, routinely observes this phenomenon. Jorgensen refers to the Okanagan Valley as Disneyland for the rich, a farming community turned gig economy, rife with resource hoarding.

Jorgensen observes, “Change takes an unearthing of the Protestant work ethic, where our productivity is a reflection of our morality, that we are only worthy of resources and care by paying with our time and bodies. If I am so tired from the grind I can no longer advocate for myself and rampant individualism has alienated me from my community at large, I am demoralized as to accept that I am alone and thrown into the tide of an unchangeable system. What if I was buoyed enough to reach out, unfettered by the strain of merely trying to survive but to thrive side by side joined to others? What if my worth is that I simply exist?”

In the absence of community, it’s easy to view others as meaningless. Plagued by myopia, we’ve normalized the trend of tacky, soulless encounters.

Roger Beaudoin points out this lack of connection in Restaurant Hospitality with the observation of formerly and widely held norms that are now defunct: gas stations would wash your windshield and check your oil, and restaurants would thrive by providing exemplary service. You would be greeted at the door by name, the host would take your coat, seat you at your favorite table and the owner would make sure that every aspect of your dining experience was unforgettable. He expands, “This approach began with one singular mission: Treat every customer like they were your only customer and train each and every staff member genuinely to care about making each experience everything it could and should be.”

The answer might be all too simple, though counter intuitive. Hospitality requires a foundation of worldliness, curiosity, humility and kindness. A culture that defines itself based on a rich tapestry of diversity requires universal basics older cultures have embodied for generations. How we get there is akin to the chicken or the egg theory. Only time will tell.