Summer Time Blues: An Update on the State of Foodhi

The shop has been slower than usual, and I’m also battling obscenely high prices and a produce forecast that looks… honestly, grim. Projections suggest that the current warmonger’s actions are going to lower yields, with fertilizer costs skyrocketing and supply chains tied up overseas. And as a lot of you have already told us, gas prices are keeping people from supporting small businesses. That same inflated fuel cost drives up the price of everything moved by truck, too.

It’s not good.

No one talks about how our poor transportation system keeps Cleveland from being a great food town. The harder you make it for people to get somewhere, the less likely they are to go. And yet we wonder why we can’t compete with New York or Chicago. (This would be a good blog topic, if time permits.) But I digress...

Our political choices, or lack thereof, have consequences. Innocent people are dying, voting rights are being gutted, and corruption has gotten so blatant it feels like we’re being robbed in broad daylight. I’m doing what I can to keep this little hole-in-the-wall shop alive during some truly awful times, but honestly… it’s gone too far. I need to slow down.

I’m the chef, the bookkeeper, the manager. I’m ordering, doing pickups, updating the sites, dealing with maintenance (which has been wild lately). Everything is breaking at once. Planned obsolescence. I’m prepping the menu, working the line, cleaning… and since our server walked out without notice (go figure), I’ve been doing that too.

It’s a lot. And truthfully, I’m falling behind in every direction.

Thank goodness I have an amazing baker. At least I don’t have to do that.

The advice I hear most often from family and friends is:
“Shut it down.”
“It costs more than it makes.”
“You’ve basically disappeared since you opened.”
“It’s killing you.”
“You’re not charging me, are you?”

And maybe they’re not wrong.

But it’s also keeping me alive.

I’m a vegan chef. I’m not successful in any measurable way. I’m not making enough money to take days off, or afford a nice apartment, or live anything close to comfortably.

I’m not on anyone’s “best of” lists. Vegan cuisine is, largely, not given the respect other types are. The culinary world is a club, and Cleveland’s branch is particularly small and close-minded.

That said, Foodhi isn’t trending on TikTok either. I’m not revolutionizing the way people think about tofu. This place will never be used to sell tires.

But it gives me purpose. Isn’t that what matters?

I see Foodhisattva as a contribution to my (albeit diminishing) community. And what else is a social creature to do, if not contribute?

It’s not all doom and gloom. I still have the privileges of community, friendship, and talking shit with regular foodies about how awful that well-marketed restaurant I tried last week was.

A lot of our regulars have moved on from Cleveland. They found jobs in safer, more progressive states or countries where healthcare isn’t a nightmare and childcare doesn’t require three jobs and a miracle. I get it. Ohio can feel like a wasteland sometimes, and Cleveland Heights is wildly unaffordable for working-class folks like us.

Look to City Hall and you’ll see more of the same. Plans that push out working-class folks and make way for wealthier development projects.

I know my time here is limited.

But I’m proud to feed those of you who are still here. Working hard, taking care of your families, showing up with kindness, and trying to make it through.

…What was I saying?

The spring menu has about a month left. I’m going to make the summer menu smaller, like I’ve told myself to do (and then ignored) with every menu I make. The sorry state of the world may force my hand this time.

The current menu was my attempt to create a crowd-pleaser of options. I don’t know if it’s the economy spiraling further downward or simply poor choices on my part, but it isn’t doing as well as the last one. I’m thinking I’ll go back to more of my risky “anti-Cleveland palate” choices next go-round.

Thanks for checking in. See you soon.