Tag Waiter

Serving Is a Verb

Michael Leave a comment

We’ve managed to be at restaurants three times over the past 8 days. That’s quite unusual for us even in the best of times. Given that lately we’ve been held to a restaurant visit once every couple of weeks, it’s absolutely extraordinary.

We start on Easter with the She and the He families hitting separate emporia for a holiday buffet. Oddly enough, even though we were eating out, He had to still bake a ham and boil some eggs to have leftovers throughout the week. We may have to revisit that someday. We ended the week at a Sunday brunch at a well-known television chef’s restaurant. A bit of a modified buffet with an antipasti bar up front and a dessert bar to finish with served entrees in between.

Now what can you say about serving at a buffet? Keep the patrons’ glasses full of their preferred beverages, keep the tables clear of empty plates, and generally make certain they guests feel welcome. Admittedly there are some servers for whom even buffets are too much of a challenge, just as there are some restaurants that have difficulty meeting the buffet challenge. But these were upscale establishments with professional servers and their mission was to make you want to go back for a full service meal and go back soon. Mission accomplished.

But then we had the meal in between. It was at one of our favorites that had been much neglected by us. Neglect isn’t the right word. Due to uncontrollable circumstances it had been much un-patronized by us. That’s better. During our absence they changed the menu just a tad, changed the drink sizes a wee bit, even changed the portion sized of the side dishes a touch. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to make you go hmm when the courses came out. We are certain had we had one of our regular servers we would have been forewarned of the changes. As it was, we were waited on by one we had never met and were as new to her as she to us.

It started quite positively. We stood at the hostess stand where the host greeted us and immediately sat us at a table for two. And a good thing it was that we weren’t two minutes later because the next party of two ended up with a 45 minute wait for a table. But we didn’t and we immediately sat and were almost immediately greeted by the new waitress. She welcomed us, didn’t say a word about the day’s special that were scrawled on a chalk board on the other side of the waitress stand, but did take our drink orders and told us she would be right back. And right back she was our complimentary basket of chips and salsa. After ascertaining we weren’t yet ready to order she said she would be right back with our drinks and indeed was right back with half of our drinks and a promise to be right back again for our order.

What seemed like just about when the couple behind us finally got their table did our waitress return for our order. Either she realized it had been about 20 minutes since she said she would be right back again or it was He’s inquiry of the host as he walking by if our server had left a forwarding address before she left on her vacation that prompted her return. But back she was and she took our order and even managed not to have the appetizers and the entrees come out together. A big plus in our world.

The plusses continued until we got to the end of the meal. Even with the newer portion sizes there was, is, and probably will always be too much for one seating and she offered take-out containers for our leftovers. Two boxes came out, one for each of our leftover entrees but nothing for the appetizer that was still on the table and still had a ways to go before one could consider it gone. Regardless of how many containers came out, that would usually signal the end of the evening for most restaurant patrons, leaving nothing left to do but pay the check and make one’s way through the parking lot and then home. All of that self-paced except for the paying of the check, requiring a check to pay, that the waitress claimed she would be right back with. Eventually it made its way to the table, cash was plopped in the little leather book and then there it sat. And sat. It may still be there for after a while we moved on to the self-paced portion of going home and went home.

Will we return? Of course we will. We’re getting used to the fact that there are fewer restaurants with professional servers. We would prefer that of those who rely on whomever they can get to be the face of their establishments stress upon those faces that serving is a verb. It’s not just carrying a plate from kitchen to table. If you’re looking for that kind of job there are plenty of them in one’s own home.  If you should find yourself in that position, smile, go out of your way, make yourself memorable in a good way, and remember, “I’ll be right back” has its limits.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Real Restaurant Rules

Michael 3 Comments

It’s not often that we invoke actual rules for Real Reality Show Blog readers.  After all, real reality is what you make of it.  But last year was not a banner year for eating out.  We saw poor behavior by almost every facet of the restaurant industry from cooks to coat check attendants.  It was on New Year’s Eve that we finally had to say, “Somebody has got to take control here.”  And those somebodies are us! 

Last summer we found out that if we walk up to a hostess stand and there are three or more workers there, we should turn around and walk away.  We’re not certain but we think that two of the three may have been on their cell phones with each other.  Whatever they were doing they weren’t working on seating the next party.  Since there was then a lack of available seating there seemed little else for the hostesses to do.  Folding linen, polishing flatware, bussing tables, doing anything would have been preferred over just standing around in front of potential patrons waiting for a place to sit.  A tip for the front of the house.

Just a few weeks ago we found out that if you can smell the garlic as you are walked to your table, don’t order the scampi.  We did but She of We did anyway.  It wasn’t all that bad.  Sometimes it’s good to sleep on the couch.  And more and more we need to ask if al dente when applied to vegetables is a code word for raw.  It confuses our mouths when the broccoli is hard and crunchy and the pasta is slightly over done in that not quite mushy manner that happens when you over re-heat what you prepped earlier in the day.  A couple tips for the back of the house.

But by and large, our most disappointment came at the hands of those into whose hands we put our dining experience, the servers.  We’ve tried hinting.  We’ve left a tip here and there.  We’ve held tips back here and there!  We think it’s time for rules.  Real rules for restaurant servers.

                    Rule Number 1.  Tell us the specials when you greet us.  We hate when we are seated, given menus, asked for drink orders, finally decided what we want to eat and then have our server say, “Let me tell you about this evening’s specials.”  You can tell us but either we’re going to not listen because we want to remember what it is we decided on from the menu or you’re going to have to go away again while we reconsider our choices. 
                    Rule Number Next.  When you take our order would be a good time to tell us the chef’s favorite, your favorite, or if there is something everybody has raved about that evening.  It was at our New Year’s Eve dinner at a very fine restaurant with normally very fine food and service that our waitress insisted on telling us what she likes to eat for each course AFTER each course was served.  By the time the dessert menu came out we thought about just having her order for us.   
                    Rule Number Next and a Half.  Please taste what you serve.  Although we appreciate the honesty of “I don’t know, I never had it here,” we don’t appreciate the lack of attention to detail that you wouldn’t want to know everything there is to know about the food you serve.   We watch all the cooking shows but we still don’t know all the jargon or even all the food.  Is broccolini a pasta or a vegetable.  Or is that boccone?  Bocconcini is the pasta?  You can help us.  Robert Irvine would be proud of you.
                    Rule Number the One After That.  Pay attention to the table’s flow.  If we are still working on our appetizers, do not bring out the soup.  It was around Thanksgiving when the last thing we wanted was more turkey.  So we ambled over to a nearby Italian restaurant where we had the ultimate plan.  A smokey fonduta, a classic Caesar, some decadently cheesey pastas, topped off with a course of zeppole.  Heaven.  What we got was our salad first, the appetizer and entrée together, and we left without ordering dessert.  There is a rule (and not ours) that never should new plates be served until old plates are cleared.  Unfortunately like most speed limit laws that seems to have turned into a suggestion.  We were even willing to ignore the fact that the waitress reminded us at each table visit that it was her first night.  We’re actually the perfect couple to break in new staff.  We’re very low maintenance, rarely order off the menu, and generally tip well.  Then there are those times when even we can’t turn the lifelong served one into a number one server.  
                    Rule Next to the Last.  Know why you stopped by.  We are convinced that most wait persons have no idea why they stop back after serving a course to ask if everything is ok.  Well, that’s the reason.  It’s not to see if we’re enjoying ourselves.  It’s an opportunity to confirm that what we were served is prepared properly and as we ordered it.  The question should be, “Is everything as you expected?”  If you get the urge to tell us that you thought we’d enjoy it even though you always have it with chicken, please see one of the rules above. Something up there covers that.
                    Rule Last.  When you bring us our check and we decide to pay in cash don’t ask us if we want change.  If you were working at the mega mart and someone handed over a wad of bills for their groceries would you ask if the shopper wanted change?  Assume we want what is ours.  If you feel you have to say something, say, “I’ll be right back with your change.”  If we decide to share some of that with you, we’ll let you know.

So for the waitstaff workforce out there, there are our tips for you.  No, not tips, not advice, not veiled hints.  Those are our rules.  There aren’t hard to follow and those who do will be richly rewarded.  We have some favorite servers we don’t even wait for change from.  That’s a rule too.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

How Would You Like Your Toast?

Michael 1 Comment

It’s probably us.  We seem to bring out the stories in the most harmless of activities.  Not long ago, Both of We and Child of He were out to a diner for a Sunday breakfast.  A real, honest to gosh diner.  The kind where the food is going to be fabulous if you order nothing more than tea and toast.  Well, let us tell you about this toast.

We have to begin at the beginning as we were seated at a table and asked the ritualistic “what would you like to drink?”  Coffee and tea and ice water for three please.  And yes, we’ll need some time to peruse the menu.  It wasn’t that it was too big like some, but it took a little reading because it had things we aren’t used to in the twenty-first century.  Things like sausage gravy and other offerings whose calorie counts were in triple digits.  Among the choices were several four egg omelets. 

After a couple of false starts of “are you ready?” by Waitress #1 we somehow were advanced to Waiter #2.  A pleasant enough young man at home from college for the summer.  On his first trip we figured we’re ready enough if those who know what they want order first and slowly and let those still deciding decide for a few more moments.  He of We went first with a decisive blow to the cholesterol watchers, the aforementioned sausage gravy with biscuits plus two eggs and a side of hash browns.  Two or three swipes with the pen and young Waiter had the order.  Then Child of He is up.  Both of We have seen her eat the equivalent of a lunch intended for a full firehouse but even Child draws the line at four eggs.  That’s nearly a week’s work of one chicken for just one meal.  “Can I have a smaller omelet?” was the innocent enough question.  “Of course, here it is on the smaller plates menu,” pointed out the Boy Waiter.  And there it was, a two egg cheese omelet.  But, Child didn’t want just cheese.  “Instead of just cheese can I have a veggie please,” and Young Waiter Man made a few more marks with his pen and we moved on to She of We.  A straightforward eggs, toast, hash brown, pancake combination order. 

We’re just about through the ordering phase of our breakfast when the waiter asked the question that in our combined whole lot of years we’ve never heard before.  “How would you like your toast?”  She of We was so taken aback that even she, the unflappable She of We, the unquestionable clearest of all clear order givers, was left speechless.  And so, he actually repeated, “How would you like your toast?”  He of We was just about ready to answer over-easy when She of We and Waiter of Three finally got their telepathy going and She of We suggested “umm, do you mean what kind of toast?”

To make a long story short, and after some light hearted kidding of Young Waiter, we settled in and waited for our meals to be prepared and presented.  And not much later an entourage marched down the aisle with several plates that could only be ours.  And as they were all settled in front of us, having finally gotten over “How would you like your toast?” the last dish to be dropped was the omelet for Child of He.  And when it hit the table we all were again rendered as thoroughly speechless as She of We was with the now infamous toast question.  For there, before Child of He sat a plate with a two egg, cheese omelet, her selection of toast, and nuzzled between them, a serving of . . . corn.  Child of He was the first to find her voice.  “Corn?”  “Yes,” young Waiter Man said,” that’s your cheese omelet with a veggie.”  Clearly, the vegetable of the day was . . . corn.

Eventually all was sorted out.  Child of He got her veggie omelet.  She of We enjoyed her toast.  He of We got to hear his arteries clog.  And a fine meal was had by all.

So our advice to you, if you should ever be questioned with “How would you like your toast?” is to answer poached and then mentally review the rest of the order for verbal land mines.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?