Let's not mince words. It has been a strange, unpredictable, disorienting, challenging time. Actually, there aren't enough words to adequately express what's happening. Small businesses are all feeling the pinch; some have rebooted, others may go under altogether. Good restaurants thrive on interactions among and between people. Since very little of that has been happening in the traditional space known as a restaurant, these businesses are acutely feeling it.
Restaurants and bars serve as what sociologists call “the third place,” the spot we seek out that's not work or home. Well, these days, you might call them the second place, since many people have been working from home—or at the very least, have been more homebound in ways that they haven't before. We've lost our second and third places and, with them, the rooted tethering that a sense of community can provide.
For The Trapp Door Gastropub, that means, for the last few months, you couldn't sit in their rustic space, including the bar that's central to the room, meet your friends there (or make new ones) and order some food that's really easy to eat—the burgers! the pierogis!—but harder to forget.
“We are the kind of place that focuses on the whole experience—we don't have televisions. We want people to disconnect from everything else and enjoy the company of people around them, the food and the service,” says Jennifer Funk, who runs The Trapp Door with her partner Lee Reinhard.
Funk says they had “only positive support” from customers when they shifted to a curbside/pick-up model several months ago.
Everyone's been so understanding about the unpredictability of doing business during a pandemic, what with food delivery irregularities and expenses shifting seemingly overnight. She's touched by how much, in general, customers are concerned, and asking questions such as, “Are you guys OK?”(Which really translates into the thinly veiled panic of “Are you going to close?”).
It's one thing to order some favorites you might be missing, such as The Trapp Door's beloved Cuban sandwich with smoked pork shoulder and ham, or the pastrami pierogis. Or maybe tapas-style appetizers for dinner is more your simplified speed right now, with a charcuterie plate to take out for a picnic in the park. If you're fancy and want to splurge, entrées are available, too, whether it's the house gnocchi or a gorgeous pan-seared duck breast sitting on a fennel purée with some roasted potatoes. But it's more than just getting some dinner, or filling a growler from their taps or casks. Placing an order is a testament of faith in a time like this—it directs money back into the community in the most palpable way possible.
Adjustments, of course, have been made. The Trapp Door's menu has been a bit simplified given the constraints—gone are the bivalves, for example (mussels and clams; they're just too risky in a number of ways). There are fewer soup and salad options, but they still appear on the menu. Don't worry, though; the kitchen isn't cutting any corners. The ketchup is still homemade. The pork shoulder is still cooked sous vide, the trout is still house smoked. They still serve something called flame raisins on their charcuterie board. (They're not on fire—they're just oversized and super sweet!)
It's definitely not the same experience as dining in and having a beer with friends, but it does evoke it. And that's partly what fans of the restaurant are craving right now by ordering curbside. It's some semblance of normal.
The rest of what customers are especially missing? That human connection, Funk says.
That's why The Trapp Door provides people with the option to either come inside to pick up the order, or grab their order curbside. If you come in, masked and ready, for a fleeting moment there's a sense of normalcy as you take in a familiar space where perhaps you've spent time at the bar, talking to others, the bartenders, and so forth. Instead, this time it's quiet, and you're chatting with Funk. And the tables are all pushed to the sides. It's not the same, but then again, nothing is right now.
“For some people, though, that level of human interaction may be all they get all day, if they're working from home. People want to see a face,” she says.
These days, she's definitely the ever-present face of the business, along with Reinhard and chef Nate Thatcher, while most of the staff has been furloughed. When you're down to a staff of two or three, you do things you don't normally do.
“I am getting to know our regulars in a whole new way. Normally, our bartenders and servers would have that level of interaction with our guests,” she says. “Our connections are deeper with them now. At the end of the day, you just feel good.”
There are all kinds of proverbial silver linings that come out of any challenge, and COVID-19 is no exception. The reboot that's being forced upon many of us, regardless of whether we are in the restaurant business, resonates. We're starting to see some innovation; the proverbial silver linings will emerge. Even if it doesn't look like it. Even if it's not clear what the way forward might be the next day—everything is uncertain. Funk talks extensively about working among such uncertainty. In many ways, it's like a start-up, except the restaurant is kind of starting over.
“It reminds me of when we started, and what we built to get to this point, the sacrifices; we basically hit the ground running,” she says.
The analogy is apt. There's even the shifting menu—that's a pretty common occurrence in the early days of a restaurant. Funk and her team have been offering a feature every other week. It's a way to do something fun, make the best of the situation, and build up some anticipation. The only difference? It's advisable to pre-order your meal, because they will typically sell out, and it helps the restaurant avoid waste. “We've done barbecue, we've done gourmet hot dogs, a Mexican night—all our way. But the most popular one we've done is ramen. People just go crazy for that,” she says. (In case you're wondering: the broth is packaged separately from the other ingredients.) If Thatcher is making Tonkotsu 18 ramen, don't miss it—it's a pork-forward broth that takes 18 hours, with pork belly, soft egg, scallion and other delicious bits.
There are so many invisible factors that contribute to what a diner sees, eats and experiences at a restaurant on a good day.
The choices a restaurant makes in a pandemic are guided by cost, without a doubt, but also availability and what feels non-negotiable to its identity. (The Trapp Door will always, for example, have pierogis, a Cuban and a burger.) It's a delicate dance, determining which menu items to put on, which to take off, and how to tweak them as needed so they present and travel well, but still taste and look great. It's determined by a supply chain that's been interrupted by what foods are easily available and what aren't, and skyrocketing prices of meat, for example. COVID-19 has exposed the flaws in the distribution system and reinforced for many restaurants (and consumers) the advantages of sourcing locally. The Trapp Door has from its inception espoused such an ethos, when possible (Nello's meats, Beets Workin', Primordia mushrooms, Wild Fox Farm, etc.), but a gastropub's burgers, for example, will always need a tomato regardless of the season. And people really want their burgers and fries—perhaps the epitome of takeout comfort food—during a pandemic.
What dining looks like right now, tomorrow and by the time this article is published, no one knows. We have already become acutely aware of the fact that you can't predict many things. However, you can predict that many people will, more than ever, gravitate toward their favorite food and drink places and spaces for comfort and a sense of normalcy. And you can also predict that someone is going to discover The Trapp Door for the first time, even in the middle of a pandemic.
Funk tells a heartwarming story of a couple, brand-new to the restaurant, who ordered takeout. “They had their date night in the parking lot, with their food,” she says. “They had heard so much about the place, and wanted to try it, so that they could help keep us going and come back and eat inside when this is all over.”
The world is a messy, challenging place at times, but the power of food to transcend boundaries and bring people together in so many unforeseen yet unsurprising ways cannot be underestimated.
“I don't think I've said ‘thank you' as much as I have in the past two months as I did in the past five years we've been open,” Funk says. “Even if someone shares something we post on Facebook, that is huge. It gives someone else the opportunity to know about us, and come in.”
The Trapp Door Gastropub
4226 Chestnut St., Emmaus | 610.965.5225 | thetrappdoorgastropub.com
*Please check their website and/or social media for current operating hours and procedures.
How to Order:
Phone and e-mail; if the latter, wait for a phone call to confirm your order and settle the details.
What to Order:
The pierogis are a must. They put those frozen ones to shame and are filled with their own pastrami, and served with house-made coleslaw. The burgers are also a sure bet, but the Cuban sandwich will satisfy even the most ravenous appetite and then some.
Specials:
The Trapp Door is running specials about once every two weeks. One of the most popular one so far? Ramen. Don't miss.
