I always think I know what I’m going to write about by 8:00. Then someone comes along and throws that idea out the window.

Tonight we had a reservation for four people at 8:00.

Two of the four arrived early. They waited in the lobby for a while. They finally decided to be sat.

At 8:15 their friends are still not there.

They finally arrived as the clock inched toward 8:30.

The four of them then took forever to order. They actually ordered after the 6 top that was sat at 8:30.

The meal proceeded as normal.

At 10:00 they ordered dessert. No big deal.

At 10:30 they were finished.

They were also the only people in the restaurant.

They remained the only people in the restaurant until 11:45.

Myself, the chef and the server chatted at a table in the bar until they left.

We never rush people. We want them to enjoy themselves. But where’s the limit?

PS. We don’t do this but I know managers who would turn the heat off in the winter and air off in the summer to move people along. As well as turning off the music so it becomes uncomfortably quiet.

No it’s your fault!

Thanks for all the comments from last night’s post.

I truly appreciated everyone’s input.

It was a rhetorical question.

I know the correct answer. But I wanted an honest discussion.

The correct answer is the item they ordered that they didn’t like, want, or didn’t ask for mods for is removed, comped and the new item is ordered.

No issue is made about this by any of the staff.

As for my friend, Vera, who had her food delivered to the wrong table and then brought to her table after:

I’d ask to have it recooked.

And I’d bring it to the manager’s attention that it happened. Not to get anyone in trouble but so the server can be educated.

We all have worked at jobs where people either don’t know what their doing, don’t care what their doing, or are just too lazy to do the right thing. The server who did this falls on one of these categories. The manager needs to know.

Trust me on this.

Tonight I received a phone call asking what time we closed. I said that our last reservation was at 7:45. They said okay and hung up.

About 20 minutes later I got a phone call that said, if we get to your restaurant right at 7:45 will you be able to seat us. I assured them that yes we could seat them if they were there by 7:45.

At 7:47 a couple walks through the door. I ask them if they are the couple who called. They said yes. I jokingly said it was 90 seconds too late. Then said follow me.

As I’m walking them to their table, they see friends they know at the bar. So they stop to talk.

They were still talking at the bar at 7:58.

They’d arrived on time but didn’t actually sit down until 8:00.

Luckily they ordered a salad and a burger.

But it was still annoying.

Tonight a woman called to see if we had outdoor seating.

I let her know, that yes in the summer we did have outdoor seating.

She replied but you aren’t seating outside tonight?

I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing.

She repeated the question.

I replied, no we are not seating outside.

She asked in a roundabout way why?

I said it was because it’s cold.

She said OH.

I assured her he we had seats inside.

She said okay.

I said have a good night.

We both hung up.

You’re responsible!
You’re the one to blame!
It’s your fault!

Here is a question for everyone.

How should a restaurant respond when the following happens:

Tonight a guest ordered yucca fries.

She clearly said she wanted yucca fries.

The server ordered yucca fries.

Yucca fries were delivered to the table.

At which point, the guest says, what’s this? I can’t eat this! I wanted plain yucca fries.

At no time did she mention that she wanted her order modified.

She ordered. We brought her exactly what she ordered. But it was not what she wanted.

Do we get her a new one?

Do we charge her for the first one?

What should be our response?

Why should it cost us for her mistake?

Along the same line a guest ordered our featured dessert tonight. She took 1 bite and declared that this was not what she thought it was going to be. She sent it back and ordered a bread pudding instead.

The same questions apply!

Thoughts?

One of our last reservations of the evening was a 5 top, at 7:15. A five top is a big deal when it’s after Prelude in December. Especially for the server who scheduled to have them. It was 30% of her covers for the evening.

I was worried when 7:15 came and went.

I was really worried when 7:30 came and went.

At 7:35 I called to make sure they were coming.

A woman answers.

I ask if they plan to keep their reservation for the evening. She corrects me and lets me know her reservation is for tonight. I assure her that it is not.

She apologizes. I fix the mistake.

What I wanted to say is, did you notice when we sent you a text for the initial reservation? Did you notice this morning when you got a text asking you to confirm the reservation. Did you notice the text that said, You’re due at the restaurant in 30 minutes!

I double checked. The app confirmed the texts were sent. And it’s the right number because it’s the one I called you at.

I did not say this. I told her I looked forward to seeing her on Friday.

The server who didn’t wait on them was very disappointed in their night.

Can we chat about paying the check.

This one comes up way more than you’d think.The Jones’ have reservation for a party of 8. Mr. and Mrs. Smith come in first. They check in and let the host know they want to pay the check. They hand the host a credit card and that should be it.

Right?

Six minutes later the Johnson’s check in for the same reservation and they let the host know, that THEY want to pay the check and try to hand them a credit card.

The same thing happens two more times.

At this point we have four credit cards and four requests to pay the bill.

What do we do?

My rule as a server and NOW as a MANAGER has always been whomever asks first gets to pay.

It’s a steadfast rule. No grey area. The rule is the rule.

However, it’s never that cut and dry.

I’ve seen guests almost come to blows over this.

I’ve also seen server’s verbally abused because they followed my rule.

And I don’t bend. You give your card first. You pay. You want to fight about it. Fight with your friends–not my staff.

And do you know who is the worst about all of this?

People who don’t need the money. People who have more money in the their pocket than most of my staff will ever see in their life. It’s always the rich folks. And I want to smack them and say give the 800 bucks you are trying to spend to someone who really needs it, and stop being a child.

Meanwhile, if you do this, stop it!

The easiest, always the easiest thing to do is to split the check equally among everyone. Four couples, split by four. Easy. Peasy.

But for the love of god don’t be mean to the staff because they told someone before you that they could pay first.

Welcome to my Ted talk

Over the last three days we’ve gotten several surveys back with complaints about the food.

This never happens. Our food is fucking awesome. Very rarely does the chef really mid the mark with something. I can count on one hand how many times since I started.

The common denominator in all of the complaints is not taking the chef’s recommendation on how to order the food.

The skirt steak: Gentleman complained that it was tough. Couldn’t cut through it. Either make sure it’s tender or don’t serve it.

A skirt steak is a very thin piece of steak cut. It is prized for its flavor over its tenderness. Our chef recommends no more than medium rare. Any more and the steak starts to get tough. This gentleman ignored the advice of the server and ordered it medium well. He was disappointed. The chef was not surprised.

Of course it was tough. He ignored the chef.

The pork chop: Guest complained it was undercooked. Was angry that it couldn’t be cooked more.

Many. Many. Many. Restaurants will cook pork to temp. Many.

We do not.

Our pork is cooked through and then finished on the grill.

The catch.

Our pork is cooked using a method called sous vide. French for in a vacuum. This is sometimes called low temp, long time cooking. Basically the item you are cooking is sealed in a plastic bag, and then placed in water. The water is heated and kept moving using an immersion circulator. The desired temp is set on the device and then the food is cooked slow over a long time till the center is heated to the desired temp. The cooking time can be over several hours. You literally put your steak, turkey, pork chop in a bag, in water then cooked for several hours.

When it’s reached the desired temp the item is usually finished on the stove. For example Adam cooks steak this way, then sears it on the grill on in an iron skillet. Perfect medium rare on the outside. Delicious char on the outside.

At one of my last restaurants we cooked turkey this way. Finished it in the oven to brown the skin.

We cook our pork chop this way.

However.

This cooking method, cooks the food through. It won’t dry it out. It also leaves the interior on turkey and pork a little pink. The meat is at a fully cooked temp, but the meat looks rarer than it is.

We got complaints about this at my last restaurant. And clearly this man was angry about it. And we won’t cook it more because in no time at all it will be dry. Trust me, it’s the most delicious, moist pork chop you’ll ever eat.

Filet: Guest called his well done filet a hockey puck.

A filet is sometimes two inches thick. To cook the center to well done the outside is going to be charred. To a avoid this the filet is often butterflied which cuts the meat almost in half so it’s a flat thinner piece. It’s not much better this way.

Some folks refuse to let us butterfly the steak. Some are unhappy that when the steak comes out well done it’s dry and tasteless. Because. The filet has very little fat. There is not far to keep it juicer. Want medium well, we’ll done? Order a New York strip. A ribeye.

All three times the guest was unhappy because they knew better and didn’t take the advice of their server.

So the moral of the story: ask questions if you don’t know the item or recognize the description. Then listen when the server gives you advice. The advice comes from the team who wrote the menu. They know how the item is supposed to be cooked to taste the best.

And don’t get angry when you don’t listen.

In 2013 I got hired to be the new general manager of a brand new restaurant in a coastal New England town.

This town is not unlike the other 100’s of coastal New England towns spread up and down the coast.

The town is made up of tourists who do day trips, as well as those who vacation for weeks at a time.

It also has summer locals who have vacation homes scattered around town. Some of the summer cottages are modest two bedroom condos. Some of them are multi million dollar beach affairs with stunning views of the coast.

Our little town also has a decent year round population that is spread along the economic number line. Average families with 2.5 kids, two cars and a dog. As well as average families with 2.5 kids, a private jet, two yachts, and a personal chef.

With the town residents whether real locals, summer locals, or locals for the day there are certain expectations they all bring to the table.

So.

When I started as the GM of my little restaurant, I was warned in the ways to keep the locals happy. Local discounts. Holding tables, and barstools for locals. Secret menus. Special reservation rules. We were told to keep them happy or we wouldn’t survive.

Myself, my boss, and the person who headed the company we worked for discussed these ideas for weeks as we prepared to open. What to do? What to do?

What I kept coming back to was how do we know who real locals are? License plates? Drivers license? Residential address. Business address? What about people who work here but don’t live here?

Is it based on how much money you have? Are the Smith’s with their yacht are more important than the Clark’s who drive a Camry.

I was new to being a GM but I was vocal in projecting that ALL if our guests should be treated the same.

ALL equal.

I won out.

Not only that.

We were all in agreement that we should not take reservations. We could ultimately seat more people, and make more money if it was first come first seated.

We lived by these policies for five summers.

All of this seems no nonsense.

What we didn’t count on was how coddled some of the residents had been by the other restaurants in town.

Certain people were treated like royalty.

So when we opened we were called regularly for reservations. Our staff would explain that we didn’t take reservations at which point they heard a lot of:

Don’t you know who I am?

But I’m a local?

But I live on Marshall Point Road?

But I’m Mrs. Grant’s assistant and I assured her that I could get her a reservation.

This is when they decided that our $14 dollar an hour host wouldn’t do and they’d ask to speak to me.

I was very practiced in saying NO after five summers.

No you can’t have a reservation.

Yes I know who you are.

I hear Marshall Point is a very nice street.

This was made even more complicated by one of our owners who was small of stature that felt that throwing around his ability to skirt the rules made him feel bigger. He’d call at 6:45 saying we were to seat his friends the next available table, although there were people, regular people, who’d been waiting for over an hour.

As I became more and more comfortable saying no I became less, and less, and less, and less popular with a lot of the locals.

They loved the restaurant. The loved the food.

They hated our policies, and especially the person tasked in keeping them enforced.

In fact, we actually had a group 15 or so regulars call a meeting with me to discuss their treatment in the restaurant. They were unhappy that they were being asked to leave our oyster bar on Saturday nights after happy hour, even though they had spent 1,000’s of dollars over the last few weeks.

They even brought a spreadsheet.

I had to explain that yes, they might spend a 1,000 dollars. But they took over the space, took pride in being so obnoxious that no one else would sit in the room with them and basically got a private room with no fee. And that although they might spend 1,000 dollars, that if they weren’t there the room would ring 3,000+. So it was actually better for us not to have them.

They never returned and were not quiet about how they felt about me. In fact my current chef, had the same problem along with several other restaurants in town with these folks.

This has been my long way of saying that lots of people in town did not like me.

That being said, I had tons and tons and tons of people who loved me. Some of them are friends on Facebook, some have been to my home, some I’ve visited their homes. We’ve met for drinks. Had dinner together. They are true friends.

When I started my current job I was worried about my reception. I don’t even think I said this to Adam. When you’ve been the enemy, will they want you back.

And I started and the summer progressed and except for one asshole on my second day, they’ve all been kind. They’ve all welcomed me.

However, I’m not unaware that they like me now because the rules have changed. I have not changed. I’m the same, it’s just that I can help them with last minute reservations. I can squeeze them in when there is no room. I can add two chairs to their reservation when friends show up unexpectedly.

I’m useful to them.

This all came up today because one of my favorite regulars, apologized for her friend’s behavior when they were in last week. Her friend had pulled me over to complain about her meal a week earlier. I listened and as I said last night, said all the right thing.

So tonight I was apologized to for her behavior. I mentioned that I knew she didn’t like me from my last job and this was confirmed. She even mentioned to my regular how much she used to dislike me, but now that she can call and leave a massage and get a last minute reservation turns out I’m not so bad.

I assured my friend I didn’t care. This was nothing I didn’t already know. And that it truly said more about her than me.

I thought about this exchange on my drive home.

And it made me sad. Sad that there are people in the world who only like those in their life who can provide a service for them. How shallow their friend pool must be. How truly sad their lives must be.

I’m thankful that I don’t look for what my reward will be when I’m kind to someone. I’m grateful that I am nice to people at work every day with no expectations beyond their having a good time.

Something I realized tonight:

Sometimes it’s nice to have grown up without economic privilege.

The Saturday of the first week of Prelude is the busiest of the two weeks.

At 3:30 today I had four reservations at the bar available at 7:45. Two large tables available. One at 5:00. One at 8:00. And one four top at 7:30. It’s the most booked I’d ever seen us.

The phone was quiet all afternoon. Surprisingly so.

Until 4:00.

Then the ringing started.

My favorite few phone calls.

Woman calls for six people. I offer the 5:00 and 8:00. She’s not sure it will work. Says she will call back. I let her know that I can’t promise anyone will answer. She says we’ll hear back from her. I probably have a message from her tomorrow afternoon.

Another gentleman calls. It’s 4:30. Wants to know when we open. He’s in the parking lot. Wants to come in now. We don’t open till 5:00. Lets me know he’s coming in as soon as open. I ask if he has a reservations. He says no. BUT. He tells me has cash. Lots of cash. Ready to spend it.

I explain that if he doesn’t have reservations we can’t seat him.

He assures me repeatedly that he has cash to spend.

I apologize but say there is nothing I can do.

He’s not happy.

Then there was the gentleman who called for a reservation at 6:30. For four people. I explain that we don’t have an opening for four at 6:30.

He then explains that he knows Jason, a server. He lives down the street. He owns a business. He’s friends with Jason. Also Jennifer. And he comes there often. And. And. And. And.

There really is nothing I can do.

Plus you can never get a 6:30 reservation for four.

Never.

Plus. I’ve never heard of this guy.

He’s not happy with me.

Plus. Just like on Valentine’s Day.

Don’t.

Don’t.

Don’t.

Wait till 5:00 on the 14th to make your reservation and then be mad at me.

A failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.