Hello, everyone! Liza here, your friendly food and hospitality pundit. Thrilled to be here.
Since my first column is coming out during Valentine’s Week, I thought it appropriate to write about love — and its place in the restaurant industry.
Let me set the premise: Love is not just a feeling; it’s an act. And I know most of you will agree that it’s an act not exclusively meant for those related to us or those we fall head over heels for. In fact, Jesus himself said, “Love your neighbor…”
So here we go, and kindly allow me to proceed because I’m old enough to have some wisdom and I have perspectives from both sides.
I’m a legitimate PWD (person with a disability). My chef-son owns a restaurant, Slow Burn. I also have many friends and former students who are restaurateurs, and I’ve consulted for many restaurants.
If you know someone who has a fake PWD card, please ask them to destroy it. And of course, if you happen to have one — whatever the reason — do not be tempted to use it. Just throw it away. Using a fake PWD ID to get a discount at restaurants hurts people. Yes, people.
Let me explain. The restaurant business is tough. Profit margins are slim — 20 to 30 percent, at best. Rent, ingredients, labor, electricity, and other expenses are just too high. A study states that only four out of 10 restaurants survive their first year, and only two of those four last beyond five years. That’s how tough it is.
Competition is fierce. Customers are price-sensitive and rarely loyal. Millennials and Gen Z diners often prefer to eat at a different restaurant each time — for the adventure, novelty, and, of course, fresh content for social media. No offense meant. Even though I’m Gen X, I act the same way. Because of these factors, restaurants must constantly manage pricing. They keep prices affordable to attract and retain customers, especially now that many people check prices and reviews online before choosing where to eat.
Given these realities, when a restaurant provides a 20 percent discount (remember, profit margins are only 20 to 30 percent) to people with fake PWD IDs, there’s barely anything left. The problem has become so widespread that the restaurant owners’ group RESTO PH has publicly called for an end to the fraudulent practice.
When a restaurant’s finances suffer and it eventually has to close, it’s not just the owner who gets hurt. Employees, suppliers, and their families suffer too. Many restaurants now source ingredients directly from farmers — think about how they’re affected.
Now, let’s talk about the other side: legitimate PWDs, who are becoming casualties of this situation. The system must be urgently overhauled by the government. In the meantime, I understand why restaurants are verifying PWD cards more carefully. Legitimate PWDs have no problem with this. The government — both central and local — should update its database to enable fast verification.
I also support criminal charges against those caught with fake PWD IDs. Fraud is fraud. Charges should be filed not just against the fakers but also against those who sell fake IDs, the doctors who issue fake medical certificates, and the corrupt government employees who approve PWD cards for unqualified individuals in exchange for bribes.
That said, PWD ID verification should always be done respectfully. Love is about respect.
Respect means a big “no” to assuming every PWD cardholder is a faker or a cheater. Disabilities come in many forms — some are invisible. A person may look strong and healthy but still suffer from a disability. So, a big “no” to shaming PWD cardholders by giving them dirty looks, as one restaurant group suggested. A trillion “nos” to mocking people with mental health conditions — who are rightfully eligible for PWD cards — as the same restaurant group did in a now-deleted post.
Love is also about forgiveness. The restaurant group I referenced, which encouraged such unacceptable behavior, publicly apologized and committed to retraining its team. I believe them, and I’m sending them good vibes. In fact, I’ll order their chicken for dinner — I love it, and love is about giving second chances.
Which leads me to my final point: giving people second chances. Cancel culture is not an act of love. We’ve all made mistakes — some small, some big. People in the restaurant industry do, too. Sometimes it’s the owner’s fault; sometimes it’s an employee’s. If it wasn’t a deliberate attempt to harm you, try to forgive. Don’t rush to destroy them on social media — just let them know.
Almost all restaurants now have private feedback channels. You can send them a direct message, speak calmly with the manager, or fill out a customer survey (often in QR code form). Don’t go online and call for them to be “canceled.” Why not? Because, again, think about the employees, suppliers, farmers, and their families.
Let’s show love — to the people behind restaurants, to real PWDs, and to each other.
Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all.
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Email Liza Hernandez-Morales at lmorales@ateneo.edu.
Editor’s Note: This article has been edited for clarity, style, and coherence while preserving the Simpol.ph columnist’s original voice and intent.
