The truth is, I forgot.
No big deal, right? I didn’t call for reservations—at most downtown SLC restaurants, you don’t really need one.
So I was surprised when I was told at the hostess desk that “she’d have to find room for me.” And that Finca was filling up fast.
It wasn’t until we were sipping some fantastic cocktails (Ransom Gin with housemade lavender-honey tonic, garnished with lavender seeds and Beehive Jackrabbit Gin with housemade lemongrass-citrus tonic) that I remembered, with a Homer Simpson-esque “doh” and slap to the forehead:
For years I’ve avoided going out to dinner during the Outdoor Retailer’s twice-yearly conventions—restaurants, not just downtown, but stretching out into the burbs, are packed during these times. Best for us locals just to eat in and be glad our friends in hospitality business are making their nut.
But no mas.
There’s been so much hubbub about the Utah Legislature and Guv’s stupid stance on public lands and the ensuing departure of the convention on which Salt Lake City’s hospitality economy is built that I thought O.R. was already gone, fini.
The crowd last night reminded me of how much our restaurants and bars will be missing ($45 million now going into Denver cash registers).