Today is International Workers’ Day, as employees of the world unite in the search for equal pay, fairness, industrial and collective action, and a better quality of life, I feel it is an apt time to correlate this and stand up for independently-run restaurants across the world, and primarily our microplanet of London.
Our industry is on its knees. When the government projected that 6,000 restaurants across the UK would close this year (more than 1 in 10), a bolt of panic ran through my veins. This has been the most challenging year of my professional life, where we’ve had to survive month-on-month as I’ve had to implement wholescale changes to how Mangal II operates to ensure we survive. We ditched our negligent, overpriced accountants, got rid of expensive napkins, cut down the wine list, took out two loans, introduced a consumer-friendly Set Menu which is proving a massive hit, and reduced the price of every food item on the menu. This was all to counteract rising food costs, an increase in National Minimum Wage and salaries, endless payments to HMRC where 20% of all you make you pay back to the government, and high costs of utilities/rent/practically everything a restaurant ever has to purchase, use, and acquire.
Despite these changes, despite finally having consistent great reviews and feedback (better than ever, how ironic as we plunge towards the reality of bankruptcy), despite releasing a heralded book last year where tonight my brother and I are nominated for ‘Debut Cookery Book’ at the Fortnum & Mason Food and Drink Awards, despite releasing a shoe with Puma via END, it’s still not enough to save us. One thing I am loathe to do is to put this all back onto the customer and raise our prices. A short-term, easy fix, where we would simply alienate people and piss them off. I fully appreciate that the country is headed towards a recession, and the last thing I want to do is the extract the limited funds available from the public at an extortionate fee – further perpetuating the crux of the problem and aiding the rising wealth gap in our nation.
I am a man of principle – perhaps to a fault. I simply refuse to get into bed with influencers, even though I know it may save my business. We’re not on TikTok and we don’t do reels. Every day I am inundated with DMs asking me for a collaborative dinner, Every day I delete my inbox. The Reform Party social media post liking viral guy who half the general population wants put on a spit and roast could save me with one video as our lamb ribs drip down his chin, and then we’d be overloaded with 1000s of customers trying to replicate his orgy of glutton here. I simply refuse to go there. I don’t want a bunch of ill-informed, trend-seeking losers coming here, bastardising the joint, before moving onto the next spot. I want to maintain dignity in the chaos of food, oversaturation, steep competition, and a survival of the fittest.
I am, however, not stupid. I think?
There’s money there. A lot of money, and I want it. I want it from the wealthy, the corporate world, who have endless marketing and events funds that are constantly being misaligned and thrown at the same 10 restaurants in Central London. The rich feeding the rich, a story as old as time. There are so many company dinners, brand sponsorship events, launches, client treats, hospitality packages, private hires, that go on behind the scenes in perhaps a handful of establishments within a 3-mile radius of Soho and Shoreditch. All of these unnamed restaurants have rich proprietors, and fundamentally, rich investors covering their back. Mangal II has no one. Just myself, and my parents who rely on a small income from here to enable a dignified quality of life that allows them to live by modest means. I don’t seek external revenue for my own personal gain, in fact, this year I took a huge salary cut to help the restaurant’s expenses to reduce. I want it for my business to avoid going extinct.
You, the reader, may work for such a company. You will fully-well know that said company hosts a multitude of events. You may be friendly with someone who works in the marketing or PR department. Hell, you may even be the one running the ship. To you, I say: Think of us. Think of others like us. Spread the money and love, and support your local, favourite spots. Why? Because one day, they may be gone. And all that will remain will be a queue of 700 people outside St John or The Devonshire, and countless Gail’s. Topjaw answers will be limited to 5 restaurants (I mean, they kind of already are). The high street will be full of vape shops, betting offices, more Turkish barbers (much to Nigel Farage and viral chin sauce drip guy’s delight – to be clear, I fully back my brethren and their mission to skin fade every man across the UK even though today I carry a small mullet), and corporate franchised eateries that serve bad food. Nudge them our way, or to the way of another independently-run restaurant that you love, and receive a thousand thanks, the best service, the utmost care in food, and full-well knowing you helped your favourite place survive that little bit longer during the darkest days.
Why? Because the only other alternative is for everywhere to raise their prices, sack a load of employees, and eventually kill the industry until all that is left are the same restaurants with the same PR team and same venture capitalists behind them buying up more real estate and swallowing up the competition. We don’t want that. You don’t want that. We are a city of variety, of flavour, of choice, of competition, of quality, of hope. We’re all swimming up against the storm to reach the shore. Throw us a fucking paddle.
In the meanwhile, we will continue to try our hardest. We will continue to create fair working conditions, equal pay, contribute to pensions and feed the government as they purchase more arms and neglect the working class. It’s all a mess but we will continue our hustle, and to feed. We love what we do, and at the current trajectory, we won’t be able to do it for much longer. I am trying to run my business as ethically and legally as I can. We’re not cash only. We don’t skimp on quality ingredients. All employees are documented and have every entitlement they deserve. We’re a safe work space. We are inclusive. We do everything by the book, and still it’s not enough. We’re busy, but not *that* busy, and the main reason is because our regular customers have less to spend than ever before. Why should we punish them by charging them more? Tell your bosses to get their fingers out of Central London’s arse and host a dinner somewhere with heritage, a 30-year history. We seem to be too ethnic to attract corporate interest, and too British to attract Turkish brands from investing in us. Break the unconscious racist mould. A spot with open fire cooking of the highest standard, in Dalston where you could all go on to continue your evening in some of the world’s best bars. Make a night of it.
Email me at ferhat@mangal2.com for any opportunities. Help us. Help others. Do the right thing x