My posts have become very popular with the team at work. They get very excited when they make the evening news. They also like to share the wealth. Twice tonight someone came up to tell me the insanity that was their table.

And by the end of the night I had a yellow pad sheet full of notes.

I just needed to choose tonight’s topic.

When what to my wondering eye should appear?

I should say…who?

Remember everyone’s favorite post from last week about the two girls and the gent who stayed for five hours after promising to leave?

Yes.

Not the girls.

But the gent. We’ll call him Stan.

He arrived for his 6:15 reservation with his brothers. He didn’t have on his hat but it was definitely him.

I didn’t know till later but for both of his last visits he was difficult.

He starts off the same.

They didn’t like the stools they were assigned to. After last week there is no way they’re getting moved. Stool 1,2,3 by the men’s room.

Perfect.

In the following hour he goes out twice to smoke. Only it wasn’t cigarettes. He came back in with a more skunky smell.

He also refuses to order. It’s now 7:30. We’ve sat all but two tables and he tells the bartender he’s going to wait another hour since we don’t close till 8:30.

David, the bartender lets me know this. I tell him to let them know they have till 7:45. Then it will be too late.

It was soon after that the last table comes in. Two attractive men, two outrageously stunning women. I’m waiting for their table to be bussed so I can seat them.

When guess who should appear? Stan.

He see’s the girls.

And if I directed what happened next in a play you’d say this is ridiculous.

He appears in the doorway.

Sees the girls.

He locks his gaze on the taller of the two girls. He never looks away. He takes about 90 seconds longer than he needs to, never looking away even as he exits to smoke again.

About three minutes later he returns.

The whole thing is repeated. Creepily so.

He goes back in.

The table waiting is seated.

About 30 minutes later I notice that Stan isn’t at the bar and I see him coming from the dining room.

Hmmm.

Mental note to watch him.

A few minutes later. He’s gone again.

A few minutes later he appears from the dining room again.

Hmmm.

A server comes looking for me to give me his checkout.

He lets me know that Stan is hanging out at the wait stand.

Talking to the female staff.

I head over to the wait stand and find out he’s talking to them but seems innocent enough.

In my opinion, 45 year old men don’t hang out at wait stands if they are innocent enough.

That changes in about 30 minutes.

He singles out one server and is having a hard time getting her subtle hints to leave her alone.

By now it’s approaching 9:00. Stan is still here. We are waiting on a table to leave.

The server comes over to give me her checkout and I invite her to sit down with me. There are now four of us at the table.

As soon as the server sits down, guess who is at the table.

Stan.

He is having trouble talking.

She asks if she can help him.

He asks if he can get a ____. He couldn’t finish and begins to mime a box with his hands.

The server looks at him and dryly says, do you need a to to go box?

We all snicker.

He finally gets out that he wants a slip of paper. I fetch him one.

It’s clear he wants her number but is being blocked by six staff members.

He’s not happy that he’s talking to me and not the server.

He’s really unhappy when she, without a word excuses herself.

Now it’s me and two servers and two bartenders looking at him like what do you want now?

He stutters.

He fumbles.

He’s lost.

Finally he walks away.

The whole thing was creepy.

He leaves.

Finally.

One of our servers leaves immediately and phones to let us know he’s still in the parking lot.

I go out but don’t see him. Only employee cars out there.

We all finish up.

I make the remaining staff exit together.

So here’s the thing.

Stan’s first visit. Normal.

Second visit he stayed for five hours and tried to pick up a woman at the bar.

Tonight he’s creepy. Rapey.

BUT.

He never really crossed the line.

It’s like when you know an employee is stealing.

You can’t fire them until you catch them.

I feel like I can’t ban him until he crosses a line. But it also scares me that he’ll get handsy or cross a big line.

That being said.

I know who he is. I know his first and last name. I know to watch him. I know to alert the staff to his behavior.

Hopefully things will never come to a more serious situation.

Hopefully.

No one.

I mean no one.

No one is impressed when a server doesn’t write down the order.

There.

I said it.

Tonight I joined four of my all time favorite co-workers to toast one of them who is moving to South Carolina.

These women made my life tolerable during my first bout of New England resort employment.

Rachel and Brenda were my marketing geniuses who kept me in line when it came to all things marketing. I was the best Facebook admin when I worked there. Booking my posts weeks in advance.

Sonja booked and organized all of our 50k buyout weddings and made them a success even when we pushed back.

And when I screwed up the checkbook or used my company credit card to pay for my dry cleaning because my card and the company card were both blue I called Alyssa Swenson.

These fabulous people kept me sane.

And unfortunately, Sonja has decided to take a job in the south.

Tonight I coached her in how to tell someone to fuck off by perfecting her very sweet Bless Your Heart.

Long set up.

So we arrive at the restaurant and are greeted by a very competent, very nice server.

And she takes our drink order.

And doesn’t write it down.

And she brings back everything correctly.

And she takes our food order. And with how confused she seemed we had no idea what we’d get.

But it was all correct.

Then another drink order.

Again correct.

But it caused me sooooo much anxiety because servers aren’t always that good at it.

As a GM I have a steadfast rule that you MUST write down your orders. Or at least pretend to.

When I served I wrote everything. If it wasn’t on my pad you weren’t getting it.

I still function that way.

If you need a day off or a reservation you better make sure it’s written down because I’m not going to remember it.

We all discussed our servers lack of a pen tonight and the stress it caused. We all agreed she was doing great. We didn’t test her though by asking for separate checks.

So remember.

No one is impressed.

Write the order down.

And Sonja we’ll all miss you.

We’ve talked about reservations before.

This is a refresher course.

About three weeks ago I had a message on the machine requesting a large party reservation.

I called them back.

Turns out they were a local car dealership looking for a place to host an employee gathering.

Great. I’d be glad to help.

They’ll be 14 people.

We have a steadfast policy that the most people we can do in one seating is 12 people.

Every restaurant has their maximum.

For us it’s 12. For several reasons.

We’ve established that any more than 12 slows down the kitchen way too much.

When your average restaurant plans a menu they make sure their items are spread between multiple cooking stations.

Ovens get 6 items. Sauté gets 6 items. Salads get 6 items. Fry 6 items. No one person cooks it all.

When you are a steakhouse. The grill has 16,452 items. Salad has 3.

There truly is a limit to how many steaks we can cook at one time.

And for us. With the rest of the restaurant cranking, 12 is our max table.

The other reason we restrict seating, is that our semi private dining rooms max out at 12. So we can only put 12 people at one table. If I seat 14 we are seating two 7 tops and it’s better for revenue to seat two 12’s not two
7’s.

Long way of saying I told him we couldn’t accommodate him.

He asked what the most we could do was.

I said 12.

He decided to make the reservation for 12 and said he’d figure it out.

And how did he figure it out?

Last night when the party arrived we didn’t count them. There were just a lot of people in our lobby

So we get their table ready. I send them off.

And 30 seconds later the food runner who sat them is back to inform me that they don’t have enough chairs.

Because how many people showed up?

14.

I’m annoyed.

I follow her back to the table.

Where I explain that the table can only comfortably seat 12. No they can’t spread to the table next to them.

The food runner gets two chairs.

I leave.

They end up squishing.

13 of them were annoyed. The only person who was remotely nice about it was the guy who made the reservation.

He also paid the check which was good for the server.

But seriously. Who does that?

Hi.

Can I get you something to drink other than water?

Thus began dinner tonight for table 25 waited on by a server we’ll call Lexie. Because, that’s her name.

The mother and father ordered wine, the daughter a paloma.

And this is where things went astray.

Lexie, ever the excellent server, asked for the daughter’s ID.

Lexie was informed that the daughter didn’t have an ID but did have her vaccination card which had her birthday on it.

Her mother piped up, and said plus we are her parents.

To which Lexie, ever the professional, explains that being her parents doesn’t help, and a vaccine card is not a state or federally issued photo ID.

And that was the end of table 25’s good time.

They became angry, refused to engage, and basically shut down.

So here’s some information for those in the know. I can’t speak for every state, but in Maine you must have an ID to drink.

End of story.

Even if you are 102 and older than Moses if I ask for your ID and you don’t have one legally I can’t serve you.

Also, it is illegal to serve anyone in Maine under the age of 27 without first seeing an ID.

So once this young lady admitted that she did not have a legal ID she could not be served.

Also, the Idea that dining with her parents somehow makes it legal is fucking stupid. Can she rob a bank in the company of her parents? Can she do meth in the company of her parents?

And stop taking the law out on your server. She is not a legislator. She is not making state policy.

She literally just wants to pay her bills.

Table 25 became visibly angry because of the law.

And then very graciously tipped 13 bucks on a 130 dollar check because of the law.

And essentially let their daughter’s inability to get a drink ruin their evening.

I spent the time from 7:30 to around 11:00 tonight trying to find a topic for tonight’s post.

It was a quiet night. A mundane night. Nothing out of the ordinary. No one upset. Only one recook right at the end of the night. We cook steaks there’s always one or two a night.

I carry a piece of paper around with me. I take notes on things I see that need to be addressed with the staff. Stack your dishes neatly in the dish area. Use a tray for drinks. Remember to let the host know when your tables are reset. Don’t pull the candles off the table until everyone is gone.

I also take notes on the crazy things our guests do. If I don’t, I never remember to write about them.

I have a folder with these papers in them. Probably 60+ pages. With organized notes. With scribbles.

Some don’t even make sense anymore.

Tonight’s paper had three notes on it. All about servers. Nothing about guests.

And I was contemplating this, when a server walks up to give me his check out. This server, we’ll call him Bob, because that’s his name, was the last to leave. His 6 top had the full experience. Apps, entrees, drinks, wine, and the subject of my post tonight: after dinner coffee and tea.

Specifically tea.

In the history of restaurants, both past and present, no one, and I mean no one has invented a way to execute hot tea in a streamlined, easy manner.

And I do mean no one!

Tonight’s 6 top ordered 3 hot teas.

One hot tea takes forever. 3 is an eternity.

So here is what happens when you say you want a hot tea.

First you have to get them to select a flavor, which often means bringing over the tea box.

And in the history of the world the restaurant never has the flavor they want.

Then the server has to find a tea pot.

No restaurant in the history of restaurants has enough. There is always a struggle to find them.

If you find a tea pot, you can’t find a lid, you can’t find a creamer, there aren’t lemons cut, there are no spoons.

Next they’ll only drink the tea if you have Splenda but all you have is sweet n low and equal.

Before you protest, that this is a supply issue, I promise it’s not. I could bring in 12 cases of tea pots tomorrow and when table 36 orders tea tomorrow there will be 2 pots, no lids, only earl grey, not 1 spoon, and no trays to be found anywhere.

At my last restaurant we used loose leaf tea. But the tape always came off the container so no one ever knew what flavor was what.

Two restaurants ago we used fancy China tea pots, but the heat from the dishwasher would crack them.

Another restaurant had a million pots but absolutely no lids.

Even when I did corporate restaurants with super casual service there were never any of the silver hot water pots.

If you ask a server what the worst thing someone can order is they are going to say hot tea.

Seriously folks ask your server friends.

My server friends on here please confirm what I’m saying.

HOT TEA IS THE FUCKING WORST.

That is all.

PS. I’m thankful for mundane days, but I know that if they were all mundane you wouldn’t be reading this.

Some days are a three post day.

Today we received the following comment:

This was the second time I’ve been to your restaurant and I really am impressed with the entire experience. That said my daughter ordered the Salmon and I have to say it was a disappointment. I had the Shrimp which was fantastic and my husband ordered the Swordfish which he said was delicious. The Salmon was very boring, I’m surprised it passed the taste test to be placed on the menu, it just was NOT up to the standards of the other dishes we enjoyed. May I suggest a Cedar Plank Salmon?? We have Cedar plank salmon at least three times a month and I can tell you everyone we serve it to says it’s the best Salmon they have ever eaten. The marinade is: 1/3 cup oil, 1/3 soy sauce, 1Tb Ginger minced, 1 garlic clove minced and two scallions chopped. Soak the board for an hour before placing on grill. Once the board cracks which takes 20 mins or so put the fish on and cook. Takes about 25/30 min. Do yourself a favor and try this recipe. I guarantee the chef will love it! If nothing else then whoever is reading this will now have the worlds best Salmon Recipe! If I were the owner of Lost Fire I would take the current Salmon recipe OFF the menu, it doesn’t Doesn’t deserve be there. If I have anything else negative to say it would be about the deserts. I had the Bread pudding and previously had the Tre Leches cake, while both were good, neither made me want to order them again. A restaurant of this quality with prices this high should “wow” with every dish. Now, would I recommend your restaurant?? Absolutely! But with the disclaimer that the dishes were quite inconsistent.

WOW.

So let’s start with the salmon.

Our salmon is fucking delicious.

But.

Even if it weren’t, it’s very presumptuous to offer your own recipe.

Did you create this recipe? Or are we stealing it from Cooks Illustrated? Actually I googled it and yes it’s from a famous magazine.

Do we put an asterisk on the menu to say your salmon takes more than 30 minutes to prepare?

Do you get a cut of our salmon sales?

Will you pay more when we add a single serve wood plank to the price of the salmon?

Isn’t over kill to cook the salmon on a wood grill with a wood plank?

Is this cedar plank salmon an Argentinian dish? Or is it common to North Carolina where your area code suggests you are from?

As a chef friend likes to say, it sounds like you want to open your own restaurant. It’s not for the light of heart.

As for the desserts.

Both the bread pudding and tres leches are chef’s grandmother’s recipe. Together we’ve sold about 5,000 of them.

No one.

No one.

No one complains about them.

They are fucking delicious.

We also have an amazing pastry chef who is from where? You guessed it Buenos Aires. She’s amazing.

I might point out that you chose a restaurant that specializes in grilled beef and then ordered seafood.

All of you.

We do seafood excellently but we do grilled beef better.

You did this in a town where every other restaurant serves nothing but seafood. Nothing. But. Seafood.

So perhaps you might check out one of those restaurants. Or. Order a 2” cowboy cut ribeye and dive into what we do best

Some days are a two post day!

We are an Argentinian steakhouse.

The menu is divided into sections.

One of the sections is street food.

These are items you’d buy from a street vendor in Buenos Aires.

They include a burger. Corn. Empanadas.

Today we got a review that said:

Ordering a $21 TLF Burger off ,” The Street Menu” was insulting to be referenced to as if we came from “the street” or can only afford “Street food” Why such a demeaning and degrading reference.

WTF?

We’ve sold almost 2,500 burgers this year and not one other person has complained that we have shamed them for ordering a less expensive item.

I don’t even know to respond to the comment.

Perhaps we should call the category unnecessarily expensive and charge $46 for the burger? Would that make you feel more worthy?

Sometimes you can’t make this shit up.

Tonight was a normal night. Quiet compared to the last few weeks. We get the first turn seated.

Night is progressing nicely.

A turn for you non restaurant folks is a seating of a table. Restaurants can turn their tables two, three, four times a night depending on how fast the guest eats and how long the restaurant stays open. We can usually get two turns between 5 and 8:30.

The first turn for us is between 5 and 5:45. The second turn starts at 7:00.

We are are at the end of the first turn.

It’s about 6:45 and we start our second push at 7:00.

I usually try to make it the restroom just before the push starts.

I go in.

I pee, wash my hands and open the door.

And standing right in front of me is Mr Jones.

Literally, his face is six inches from my face.

He says, “excuse me can I talk to you a minute?”

Seriously.

He was waiting for me to come out of the restroom to make a complaint.

Does it even matter what the complaint was?

Actually he was mad because his appetizers arrived before they had finished their drinks.

I should probably mention that I’m still standing in the doorway of the restroom which has opened and someone is trying to get past me while he is still talking.

I didn’t even know what to say.

Rarely am I speechless, but I’m in the door to the bathroom while a man complains that his food came before he finished his drinks.

Someone approaches. I step aside, apologize and slip away.

Can someone tell me why he couldn’t wait for me at the host stand?

When I do arrive back at the front door there were now two parties waiting to be seated.

Can I get an open menu count?

In most full service restaurants, especially upscale restaurants, it’s not unusual for the kitchen to ask for an open menu count.

Especially at the end of the night.

What they are asking for is how many people are currently sitting in the restaurant with an open menu in front of them, who have not ordered.

This lets the kitchen know what the next ten to thirty minutes is going to look like. Every open menu potentially means an appetizer and entree order coming in to the kitchen.

This is particularly important at the end of the evening as the kitchen starts to run out of product and mise en place. (Mise en place translates to every thing in its place. This is the product they need to execute the menu).

As this runs out, at the end of the night it’s often not replaced meaning some items might not be available, or will be modified. Or it means someone is going to have to step off line to prep more product.

The open menu count, at the end of the night, also lets the kitchen know if they can start shutting down, start cleaning.

When I started my current job at the end of the night, I’d walk thru the dining room, bar, and patio and ask the servers if they had any open menus. I soon discovered that the servers were frustrated with me because they thought that the kitchen and by default, me, were rushing them to get orders into the kitchen at the end of the night.

Although no one is going to argue that of course the kitchen wants the last orders, the real reason was the fire.

Everything in our restaurant, except for salads and fried food, is cooked on a wood fired open flame. This fire is not supplemented by gas or electric. It is wood and wood charcoal only.

So as the night starts to wind down, the chefs need to know how much fire they’re going to need. The fire also has to be maintained at a certain temperature as well. So, they have to know whether to keep the fire going or let it start to die.

It’s also expensive to keep the fire going when it’s not needed. This is why sometimes at the end of the night, we’ll force a table to order.

As I mentioned in my last post, sometimes the guests like to linger and take their time, but this can’t happen without keeping the fire hot.

This also means that we sometimes turn people away before actual closing time. If the last guests’ food hit the table at 7:50 and there are no new tables in the restaurant we aren’t going to keep putting wood on the fire to keep the restaurant open till 8:30. Especially now that we’ve moved into the off season. And unlike a regular restaurant it’s not like we can just turn a knob and have heat, it’s a process. For example to be ready to cook at 5:00 the fire is started around 4:00 so that everything is up to temperature by the time the first guests ordered.

So I wasn’t actually rushing the servers. The chefs just wanted to know whether they needed to add wood. Or could the heat they have get us through the night.

PS. The fire in the grills are not extinguished until the last orders have hit the table and enough time has passed to know that no one will need to have a steak cooked more or recooked altogether.

Once the fire is out.

It’s out.

It’s 43 here tonight. It was equally cold last night.

We had the usual complaints about the patio last night.

At 5:15 a man comes in for his 5:30 reservation. He is told that it’s outside, which he proceeds to protest, saying all the things everyone says. He didn’t know. He doesn’t want that. Etc.

I explain that he booked outside and I will have no tables until 7:45. He books the reservation.

Then tells me he’s going to wait for the table. For 2.5 hours.

So he sits down on the sofa and waits. And waits. And waits. And waits.

His friend arrived around 5:45. She joined him on the soda.

And the waiting continues.

Until 7:30 when they are seated.

Around 8:00 I go in to count open menus and the server informs me that the same people don’t want to order yet. They’ve been seated for 30 minutes.

The weirdness never ceases to amaze me.