When you eat at a restaurant in a store, there is a very good chance you will eat salad. There is always salad: Chicken Caesar at the Barnes & Noble Kitchen. Gem lettuce with radish and feta at RH, the Restoration Hardware restaurant. Golden beet and tatsoi salad at Terrain, the Anthropologie restaurant. There has always been salad: Sliced pineapple and cheese salad for 55 cents at Marshall Fields, sometime in the early 20th century. Or, in 1980, $8 for a salade de cresson with watercress and smoked turkey — expensive at the time — at SoHo Charcuterie, a restaurant that once existed within a New York location of Ann Taylor, the patron saint of the pencil skirt.
When the first department stores began opening restaurants to serve their shoppers, those shoppers were women, and those women ate salads. Many of those retail restaurants went away, but now they’re back again, and there are still women — and men, this time, too — eating salads. Except they’re also eating roasted bone marrow, or coconut rice cakes, or tofu with cauliflower and harissa, and drinking nitro cold brew and sparkling elderflower-blackberry sodas.
Retail restaurants are just like other restaurants. Except they’re in a store, which makes them nothing like other restaurants, because they don’t carry the same risks. They have a guaranteed space, a steady stream of customers and an ulterior motive: to get you to buy stuff. And not just another salad.
It’s “old retail,” said Barbara Kahn, professor of marketing at the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School of Business. “The notion of the impulse buy, and the idea that the more time you spend in the space, you’re more likely to buy something.”