A recent story from the New York Times (“Chef
Sues Over Intellectual Property”), illustrates just how far intellectual
property law is beginning to extend.
While we might think of intellectual property as being largely tied to
pirated software downloads and academic writing (and a widespread campaign
against plagiarism), property laws actually move through spheres that appear to
have nothing to do with them.
And apparently, the restaurant business is the latest hotbed
for intellectual property litigation.
Rebecca Charles, founder of the New-York-based “Pearl Oyster
Bar,” claims that Ed McFarland infringed on her intellectual property when he “copied”
her “white marble bar, the gray paint on the wainscoting, the chairs and bar
stools with their wheat-straw backs, the packets of oyster crackers placed at
each table setting and” (and this was the coup
de grâce) “the dressing on the Caesar salad.” McFarland was her former sous-chef, and had
served under her guidance for six years.
Even with all of these facts in place, is it really feasible to defend these details
under intellectual property law?
“In recent years, a handful of chefs and restaurateurs have
invoked intellectual property concepts, including trademarks,
patents
and trade
dress – the distinctive look and feel of a business – to defend their
restaurants, their techniques and even their recipes,” reads the New York Times
article, “but most have stopped short of a courtroom.”
Let’s take a step
back and examine these claims.
How do trademarks, patents, and trade dress interface with
the small restaurant business? Aren’t
these normally reserved for more “serious” corporations?
Well, with small businesses, trade
dress law is as good a place as any to start.
Trade dress, unlike trademarks, is a distinctive,
nonfunctional feature that distinguishes a merchant’s or manufacturer’s goods
or services from those of another. The
bovine-inspired packaging that marks Gateway’s products and stores? The maroon-and-gold color scheme that makes
McDonald’s immediately recognizable as McDonald’s? Both of these are excellent examples of a
defensible “trade dress.” But do a
marble bar and gray paint really qualify as “trade dress” items?
It’s difficult to say, but it’s also unlikely. While the two rival restaurants provide
similar service (right down to the Caesar salad, apparently), Charles would be
pressed to build a case on some minor décor. Unless there is a likelihood
of confusion between the two eateries, the trade dress declaration may not
stand.
The Caesar dressing,
on the other hand, may yet bear some legal fruit.
If Charles can prove that she had an implied
confidential relationship with her sous-chef (and prove that he broke that
established confidentiality), she could sue for damages even without a patent. And her words certainly seem to support that
kind of relationship: “When I taught him, I said, ‘You will never make this
anywhere else.’”
What’s more, if Charles can peg her Caesar recipe as a
bona-fide trade
secret (something that has independent economic value as a result of its
secrecy), she may be able to enlist a trade
secret lawyer and burn him for filching her (legally) secret recipes.
So much for a “simple” meal!
by Kate Beall