The Red Hen incident

Recently Sarah Huckabee Sanders was kicked out of a Virginia restaurant for her role in defending Trump. This of course made all the news reports. 20 years ago when OJ Simpson was absurdly acquitted of murder there were any number of local restaurants who told him he wasn’t welcomed. And those that did allow him stay found many of their other patrons got up and left in protest.  I would have left in a heartbeat.  Very few, if any, of those incidents made it to national newscasts.

But it reminds me of a somewhat similar story about Nixon when he was president.

His western White House was an estate in San Clemente, California – a gorgeous beach community about halfway between Los Angeles and San Diego. In nearby Newport Beach there was (and still is) a fantastic funky restaurant called The Crab Cooker. Fresh grilled seafood served on paper plates. Very informal. Reasonable prices. Free breadsticks. And no reservations. But one of the few places actually worth the wait.

One day, during Nixon’s presidency when Tricky was at the western White House, the owner of the Crab Cooker got a call saying the president would like to dine there that Saturday night. The owner was delighted and suggested he come around 5:30 so he wouldn’t have to wait long. The White House rep said, “You don’t understand. The president of the United States wants to dine in YOUR restaurant.” “Yes, that’s a great honor,” said the Crab Cooker owner, “but unfortunately we don’t take reservations. Have him come at 5:30. He’ll get right in.”

The White House person said, “Reservations? No. We want you to close the entire restaurant for the night so the president and his party can attend.” “What? Oh no, we don’t do that,” Mr. Crab Cooker said. So Nixon never ate at the Crab Cooker.

The Crab Cooker did not go public with that story but word of it leaked out. And business skyrocketed as a result – much more than any publicity had the president actually eaten there. 

Sometimes the fork and spoon are mightier than the sword.

from By Ken Levine