• Alex Springer

After a year of eating exclusively takeout, I'm getting ready to get back out there and visit restaurants again. Yep, this time next week, my second dose of Pfizer will have fully kicked in, which means bidding adieu to a takeout-only dining experience. It's been hard to wrap my head around this readjustment; in the past year, I only ate on-site twice. Also, far too many of my favorite restaurants closed up shop, which means exploring our dining scene will be unfamiliar and new in many ways.

The responsibility of tackling Utah's post-pandemic restaurant scene is not lost on me. I'm definitely going to continue masking up and take full advantage of the warm weather's patio dining options, but there's a hell of a lot to cover. Will the creative minds that were forced to shutter their operations find a fertilized dining ecosystem in which to replant and thrive? Or will we simply have to cope with the gaping wounds that COVID-19 inflicted upon our hospitality industry? This is what I'm hoping to explore as I venture out into Utah's dining scene this year.

As I'm looking forward to the new and tasty adventures that await, I can't help but look back on the places that pivoted to meet the pandemic-driven demands. I, like the rest of the world, had a difficult time processing the events of 2020. Yes, the toilet paper famine and Tiger King oversaturation took their respective tolls, but the apparent erosion of human decency that played out every second of every moment on social media just wrung me out from time to time. It was in these moments I would reflect on how hospitality workers endured that exact same media barrage—not to mention real-life assholes giving them shit about wearing masks—yet got up, went to work and made good food and drinks anyway.

I need to give a shout out to OAK Wood Fire Kitchen (715 E. 12300 South, Draper, 801-996-8155, oakwoodfirekitchen.com), whose spaghetti-and-meatball family meal helped me and my family get through the first month of the pandemic. Something about those oversized bucatini noodles slathered in marinara, paired with meteoric meatballs, created a bubble of comfort in a world that very much felt out of control. I remember writing about this place early in the pandemic, and its family-style offerings helped me figure out my approach to writing about food when dining in had to be removed from the equation.

Now that I'm digging through these early-stage pandemic memories, I would be remiss if I didn't mention Elizabeth's Catering (1645 W. 2200 South, 801-359-7184, eccgrocery.com). Not only did their take-and-bake lasagna come through in a pinch, but they leveraged their position as a caterer to secure staples like flour, sugar, rice and even toilet paper for the general public when they were having a tough time finding these items in stores. This early answer to curbside grocery pickup saved our bacon once we ran out of a few basics, and that lasagna was a hearty, soulful dish that fed us for a week.

As my family and I moved from those stages of uncertainty to that shaky territory that everyone decided to call "the new normal," takeout became more about support than anything else. I read about local restaurants closing down, and all these great grassroots movements to put more money back into the hospitality industry's coffers, so dining out or buying gift cards to local places seemed like a good way to help. I snagged a gift card to The Copper Onion (111 E. Broadway, Ste. 170, 801-355-3282, thecopperonion.com) that I'm looking forward to cashing in as soon as the right kind of arthouse horror movie rears its ugly head at The Broadway. Scarfing down a bit of Wagyu bone marrow is the best way to prep for two hours of visually-arresting carnage at the theater.

I also stumbled upon two of my new favorites during the "grim acceptance" phase of the pandemic. Paik's Noodle / Hong Kong Banjum (3513 Constitution Boulevard, Ste. 100, 385-900-8607, hongkongbanjumwestvalleyutah.business.site) and Brick's Corner (1465 S. 700 East, 801-953-0636, brickscornerslc.com) both opened their doors in the midst of 2020's pandemic, giving me hope for the post-COVID future that I hope is rapidly approaching. The jajangmyeon at Hong Kong Banjum is pinnacle noodle-craft for me. The savory-sweet black bean sauce that clings to a host of homemade noodles creates a flavor that you feel in your bones. And Brick's Corner brought Detroit-style pizza to the Salt Lake Valley, which I feel is a milestone in its own right. This thick-crust pie packed to the edge with toppings like grilled Spam, braised beef and barbecue pork is a pizza lover's dream come true.

Though my space is limited, I'd like to throw a gigantic "thank you" from the bottom of my heart to those frontline workers who kept right on filling orders, mixing drinks, supporting local farmers and just doing their damnedest to keep the local hospitality industry from imploding. Here's hoping that the light at the end of the tunnel will keep getting brighter.