Notes of
Concern…
…Jackson Blair
The Loss of Fine Dining
Unfortunately, many of the people who own or run restaurants now see it as a “business” rather than an “art.” I think this is a mistake.
The very finest restaurants over time develop a really dedicated clientele. The most successful restaurants are those who welcome back satisfied diners again and again.
In my experience, returning often to a much beloved restaurant has as much to do with the friendliness of the staff and the ambiance of the setting as it does with the quality of the food.
All the really highly rated restaurants in New York City cater to their “returnees.” They greet the “regulars” by name. They know without asking what cocktail to serve. They have learned which table you prefer and make certain you get it every time. They create a feeling of “family,” and you enjoy being part of it.
And this is all before they even talk about food.
I see all of this as an “art” rather than a “science.” While it is certainly a good way to run a business, it never seems to be a “business” to the best owners.
So imagine my unhappiness at the current trend in owning or managing a good restaurant.
Today when you enter a restaurant and are seated at a table, it is difficult not to notice that your “host” is very eager to have you order, pay, and leave.
Gone are the days that it was understood that you liked to take your time with a cocktail and some conversation.
Gone are the days when the wait staff understood you would signal for a menu when you were ready.
Gone are the days when you could look forward to a wonderful explanation of each dish from the waiter as well as suggestions from a wine steward to enhance your dining experience.
Gone are the days when courses were served quietly and leisurely.
Why not take one’s time with the appetizer? Why not have a second cocktail? Why not complete a conversation before the next plate is put in front of you?
Why not, indeed?
Let me tell you why not.
Because owners want to turn your table over two or three times a night. They want to make money, not friends. They want to make that one table of yours into a “cash cow” for the business.
I had an interesting dining experience some many years ago. A powerful owner of a brokerage house was hosting some others and me at a very expensive French restaurant in New York City. It was lunch, and he had anticipated a lot of conversation and interaction with his guests.
He had selected a restaurant he loved and one where he spent a great deal of money on an annual basis. And he had every hope this meal would be handled professionally, promptly, and courteously.
Shortly after we were seated and had perused the menu he demonstrated what a really great host should do. He asked each of us what we planned to order for an appetizer and an entrée. He then asked the wine steward for recommendations of both a white and a red wine that would compliment his guests’ meals.
He called over the Captain and began to recite what each of us wished to order and as he did so, he introduced each of us to the Captain and made certain he knew what each of us was ordering.
After this was concluded, we began a very nice round table discussion of the stock markets. I was sitting next to the host, so I was engaged directly in a conversation with him.
Then a waiter appeared with two plates in his hands and said, "Who ordered the filet rare?”
Big mistake.
My host quietly finished his sentence, excused himself from our conversation, turned around to face the waiter, slammed his fist down on the table hard enough for the water goblets to shake, and said, “What are you running here? McDonalds? Get back in the kitchen and figure out who ordered the filet rare, and don’t come back to this table until you have it right.”
He then turned back to me and in a quiet voice picked up our conversation right where it had ended. Everyone in the restaurant heard what he said. And everyone understood that this client was not accepting second rate service at the first rate price they expected him to pay. Being a very wise man, he determined that making a large and embarrassing impact was the best way to ensure not only that the waiters would work it out correctly and abandon their shortcuts but that management would realize they might lose his business.
The waiter beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen, followed by the Maitre D, the Captain, and other official looking folks. When they returned from the kitchen, they had every single plate assigned to the appropriate person.
Nothing further was said.
It was a teachable moment.
My host could have bought and sold that restaurant many times over. He is quoted in all the financial papers and is a celebrity in financial circles. He clearly liked this restaurant and was a regular customer.
For him, it was the expenditure of money, but also of something perhaps more valuable to him, his time. He also wanted his guests to feel special. He did not want to be just another actor in a sideshow display.
He was not going to be treated as if he was dining at a fast food restaurant while picking up a check that could easily have been $1,000. He wanted what he paid for: a first class dining experience.
More recently I have noticed when I enter a nice restaurant, the waiter immediately wants me to order my dinner. No time to just relax and converse. The menu is pushed on you and the waiter stands there with pencil and pad in hand.
No sooner is the plate placed in front of you than the waiter asks if everything is “OK.” How he expects you to know that before you have sampled the food is beyond me. But it regularly happens.
If you are really lucky, your waiter will ask that same question at least twice more during the meal. Somebody has told this young fellow that his tip will be larger if he pretends to care.
When you have finished your entrée, you will get the same speedy attention regarding selecting and consuming dessert.
And at least one more “is everything OK” moment to cherish as you grind your teeth.
Before you finish your dessert, you will probably see a check. It will be accompanied by “I will take that when you are ready.” This can be roughly translated as “time to pay me, get out of that chair, and head out into the night because I really want to use this table again before closing.”
So taking a page out of my NYC host’s playbook, I do the following when I am intending to have a relaxed evening of dining.
I call it “Blair’s Rules for Handling Slippery Restauranteurs!”
1. When I call to make a reservation I mention that I am expecting a slow, casual night with friends and that is why I have selected your fine restaurant. Usually someone in authority handles reservations and will make a notation.
2. When I arrive and first encounter the Captain or “Maître D,” I clearly state that I wish to have a cocktail, and I will let the waiter know when I am ready to order. If that news falls on deaf ears, I make it pretty clear to the errant waiter who asks if I am ready. I have not yet become comfortable enough to pound a table and make a scene, but I manage to get my irritation across.
3. When I am ready to order, I ask questions about the menu items and their preparation. If the waiter is unable to answer them, I send him to find the answers. It is always best to demonstrate who is in charge early.
4. By now it is pretty clear to the owners and the staff who is in charge of my dining experience. And if they are smart, they fall right in line.
5. If a waiter brings me a check before I am ready for it, I send it back. I can assure my readers that I have never had to do this twice at any restaurant.
6. When I do send for my check, I pay only the amount indicated. I do not “add” a tip. I understand that waiters often have to share their tips or even kickback some money to the owners. I choose to quietly hand a cash tip to my waiter, and it comes with a word of thanks. What he does with that, whom he shares it with or not, is fully then in his control. And believe me, he appreciates it and remembers every time I return.
7. And if I intend to become a regular at the restaurant, I always “take care” of the captain or “Maître D” on the way out.
There was a time when none of these things would have been necessary because fine dining was just that: fine. And everyone involved with your evening wanted it to be memorable. People took great pride in their work.
Those days for the most part are gone. They left about the time we were no longer able to enjoy a good cigar and a glass of fine port after the meal.
It is all so maudlin.
