Charlottesville Food by Casey Ireland Page B

Adriana Hill, manager of the Charlottesville Chipotle on Emmett Street, says that “the only local ingredient that [Chipotle uses] is the carnitas …from Polyface,” noting that the company tells employees to “not answer any questions, no surveys, no interviews, unless it’s coming from within Chipotle Corporate.” 101 Additionally, Louisa Nickel, a customer service consultant for Chipotle, says that the company “currently [does] not have any local suppliers for produce in the Charlottesville area.” 102 While Chipotle may offer customers reasonably priced fast food in an inventive setting, Charlottesville diners expecting local food consistently from the chain would be wiser to choose Chipotle’s food for other reasons.
    Fast-food chains are not the only players in the corporate food industry to stake out territory in the locavore scene. Will Richey of Revolutionary Soup and the Whiskey Jar tells a story of a trip to Washington, D.C., that ended up with a visit to a D.C./Maryland franchise offering a farm-to-table dining experience. Richey relates his excitement in finding local food in a corporatized setting, only to be disappointed with a lack of information. “I asked, ‘Where is your chicken from?’ and the server couldn’t tell me,” Richey says. “I said, ‘How do you get your greens?’ and no one knew.” The big claims and unclear background of places like this franchise have led Richey not to advertise his restaurants as locavore-friendly. To Richey, it’s “become a little ridiculous to try and tout it now as ‘I’m more local, no, I’m more local!’ I count on my customers to do the talking.”
    T HE F UTURE OF L OCAVORE D INING
    To many chefs, the survival of local food as an entrenched concept rather than a trend depends on its increased affordability. Will Richey sees the movement failing “if it’s a gourmet-only option,” acknowledging that local food is always “going to be more expensive.” Richey still receives negative feedback about prices being too high at Revolutionary Soup and the Whiskey Jar; however, his businesses “get a lot of people who are like, ‘How can you do it for that cheap?’” Richey states that his businesses “take a hit on our margin to make it in volume, and that’s our secret. I’d rather do fifty people at half the price.” Between the under-ten-dollar offerings of Revolutionary Soup and the accessible price points of chicken-and-dumplings or big breakfasts at the Whiskey Jar, Richey has certainly made a name for himself doing local for less.
    Other cooks think that prices aren’t the only variables that can change for more customers to buy local. Matt Rohdie believes that customers should expand their definition of local from the “exquisitely” minute to include local food production. To Rohdie, a large company using one product from the area isn’t enough to make that company a viable support to the community. “At Chipotle, a tiny fraction of my money stays local; most goes back to Chipotle Corporate National,” Rohdie attests. “Little localities should be able to reject the corporate forces that drive up prices and don’t put money back into the community.” With a laugh, Rohdie says that the lettuce on a Philly cheesesteak doesn’t matter—it’s the authenticity of the sandwich that counts. “I consider that cheesesteak [from Lou’s] as local as a container of lettuce from Planet Earth Diversified,” Rohdie insists.
    Local food, however, can be greatly impacted by the beverage with which it’s served. A pairing of Riesling with a flank steak, or a Syrah with flounder, can negatively alter one’s perception of a meal’s greatness. Just as a bottled Coke naturally suits a burger from Riverside Lunch, a bottle of local wine, when matched skillfully to a