Ohhhhhh the woes of taking reservations this week.

Let’s see.

We had a group of six make three two top reservations at the bar because they couldn’t get a six top reservation.

They called to ask to sit together, and I explained that I couldn’t make that happen but I I could get them a table for six. The lady exclaims, that’s what we wanted all along.

Then you should have called the restaurant as instructed.

We had another woman show up at 5:15 for a 5:15 reservation then explained that they had a 7:30 reservation as well but they couldn’t figure out how to cancel it.

We had a woman walk in at 5:30 to get sat. Then she came back up to cancel her 7:00 reservation.

We had a couple show up for bar reservations that insisted they had a reservation for a booth. They did not.

I had a man call for a party of 10 in June get angry because he couldn’t get 6:30. He had waited and called and how the hell were we already booked.

I never explain that we aren’t booked we just won’t take a large party at 6:30. He yelled at me for a good ten minutes.

Had a woman call who has a 16 top reservation in July. I explain that anything over 10 is a special menu and that if she emailed me I’d send her a proposal.

She complained that she got a reservation for 16 last summer. Which she did not. The largest reservation we took last summer was 12.

She complained that we didn’t have a special menu last summer. I explain it’s a new policy for the summer.

She then asks if she can just get 4 four top reservations. I explain that I can’t take those reservations for another month and they be for 5:00, 5:15, 5:30, and 6:00. And they would not be seated together.

She finally hung up on me.

I was reading through reservations for next month and a person booked a 5 top then put in the notes that they are actually 10 people.

Seriously. Who does this?

It’s one thing to be 5 but 10? But what will they do when they show up and I don’t have a table for 10?

That’s all.

It’s been a good 24 hours for reservations.

Just like a billion other restaurants, my restaurant offered takeout at the start of the pandemic. As with most places it was do or die and everyone was doing everything they could until things got better.

I didn’t work there then, so I don’t know how long it went on, but it didn’t last long. Our food is not conducive to a cardboard box. It does not travel well.

By the time PPP loans came along, and things started to open up, take out was a thing of the past.

We still get calls for take out.

Our standard answer is that we don’t do take out.

However, we still get people who insist that when they called last time we did it.

We did not. Unless they last called in April of 2020.

Over the weekend a guy called for takeout. I answered and shared that we don’t do takeout.

He insisted we used to.

I explained that that was 2 years ago.

He then asked if he could come in, sit at a table and ask for his food to go.

I explained that no he could not, because we don’t do take out.

He huffed and puffed.

Then hung up.

Here’s a fun fact about take out.

Most.

Most, but not all upscale restaurants don’t do takeout.

Why you ask?

Because the presentation of the food is as important as the taste. Does anything look appetizing after being in a box for 25 minutes?

Also it slows the kitchen down.

Unless take out is part of your business model I’ve yet to see a kitchen that handles take out well.

Last summer my other restaurant did a lot of takeout. And everyone in the kitchen hated it. Where are the lids to the ramekins? Did no one stock take out utensils? What do you mean they want one of each of our dressings for their salad? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That was supposed to be a grilled chicken sandwich mayo on the side not a fried fish sandwich.

And inevitably the runner who put the order together would mix things up.

And I’d get yelled at on the phone.

So.

We don’t do take out.

Sorry.

We often get comments that say we are expensive.

We are not inexpensive. But I wouldn’t say we are outrageous for the area. I’d also point out that we are buying the best product we can get. The best meat. The best seafood. The best produce.

You know prices have gone up if you’ve shopped for groceries lately.

We also occasionally get comments that our drinks are too expensive. Trust me. We are not. Our beers on tap are priced to sell considering they are all local craft beers.

Our competitors have drinks pushing 16, 17, 18 dollars an hour. We are not that expensive.

We had a guest comment a week ago or so complain about our wine costs. So much more than at the grocery store.

Why yes. Yes we are more expensive than the grocery store. That’s the way restaurants work. Our business model is very different.

You don’t carry the wine to a counter and pay for it then leave at a restaurant. You are seated, waited on hand and foot. A trained staff caters to your every need. A chef hand prepares the food you consume. A person clears and resets your table. The amount of staff needed is far more than a cashier.

Also most grocery stores don’t have views. They aren’t paying for high profile premium locations.

So yes. You could buy the wine cheaper at the store. But you’d also cook your own supper, clean up your own mess, take out your own garbage.

It defeats the reason we go out to eat in the first place.

Well.

It happened again.

A server comes to the host stand carrying a filet.

She asks to speak to me. Seems table 25 ordered a medium rare filet. She was cooked a filet. And it was medium rare.

It arrives at the table. She cuts into and immediately announces that it’s well done.

She calls the server over and sends it back.

The server takes it to the kitchen.

The chef takes one look at the steak and loses his mind.

The steak is cooked. A picture perfect medium rare.

He takes a breathe and tells the server to find me to tell the guest that it’s a picture perfect medium rare.

So she has found me. And I see the steak. And it’s a picture perfect medium rare.

I take the plate. And I go to the kitchen. I check in with the chef. He, as his passionate self, lets me know he won’t cook another steak. He cooked it to order. To the temp she wanted. He is not going to do do it.

So I take the plate to the table.

And I ask what the problem is. And I’m told it’s over cooked. And I explain that it’s absolutely not over cooked. It’s a picture perfect medium rare.

At this point the guest explains that she ordered medium rare to rare.

I don’t even know what to say. There is no such thing as medium rare to rare. It’s either medium rare. Or rare. It can’t be both.

She pushes back.

I explain that we’ll be happy to cook something else for her. Anything except a steak.

She huffs. Waves her arms and says she’s never experienced such rude behavior.

I walk away.

40 minutes later or so they leave. The two women don’t speak to me. One of the husbands stop to chastise me. Telling me how rude I’d been. How inappropriate that I’d been.

I don’t really know how to respond.

Of course I have practiced my response for the next time. I’ll have it ready because it will happen again.

They left a survey review. Said the steak was well done. And that I was rude. I don’t mind being called rude. But I hate when they lie.

More though, they told the server over and over that this was not her fault. She couldn’t help it if the owner and manager are rude. Then promptly tipped her less that 15%.

How much would they have tipped if it had been her fault?

Last night we had a person send back their lamb because it wasn’t hot.

Today we got a review complaint that their steaks weren’t served hot. 

Fun fact: Most main dishes, especially proteins should not be served piping hot.

There is a reason a chef will tell you to let a steak rest before serving it. It will allow the juices to permeate the cooked meat. It will often continue to cook to its proper temperature.

It truly is an older generations belief that if the food doesn’t burn your mouth then it’s not being served properly.

But it’s simply not true.

Occasionally someone will tell me their order isn’t fresh because it’s not piping hot. I assure each order is made to order. Yes mashed potatoes are cooked and batched but even your French fries are cooked when the order comes into the kitchen.

So don’t be surprised if your meal comes to the table warm.

That’s how it’s supposed to be served.

COVID has changed how we think about things.

Exponentially so.

For example, I am back to hugging people but I think about it before I assume someone will hug me back.

I am super self conscious when I cough or sneeze at work.

I wash my hands 100 times more than I used to.

So I’m very aware when two certain behaviors happen at work.

The first is close talkers.

I’ll be standing at the host stand and the next thing I know someone has stretched their head over the stand and it feels like they are 2 inches from my face. They have no sense of personal space.

It makes me nervous. It makes me anxious. And it makes me very very very uncomfortable.

The second is touchers.

My mom was a toucher. She’d walk through a store picking up every item in the aisle. Very studiously examining each one. Berber buying. Just touching.

At work people will come to the host stand and touch my iPad. They touch my pen. They touch the postcards. They touch the phone. They touch the the toothpicks. When they are done they wander around the host area touching everything else.

It drives me crazy.

Even more so when they are both close talkers and touchers.

Our last reservations tonight were at 8:30.

The last table sat arrived 25 minutes late. Ugh.

However, table 21 was sat at 8:25. Awesome. Early.

They stayed until 11:15. The last table before them left at 10:00.

Fun fact: for whatever reason, I don’t mind staying late. I used to hate it. Now I sit and chill, and just wait it out.

That being said, I do feel bad for my staff sometimes.

Table 21 did it right tonight.

They left a $100 tip on a $300 check. We’ll worth the extra time for the server.

The only bad part of staying late is the 45 minute drive home. In the rain.

But alas.

This is still an awesome job.

We use Resy as our reservation system. It has its pro’s and con’s but the one thing I love is that unlike open table their surveys and reviews are only seen by us. They are not seen by the public.

This is mostly awesome because the people who fill out the surveys get their complaints and comments out of their system, so they don’t usually go further with their posts. They don’t post on Yelp or trip advisor.

98% of our surveys are spectacularly wonderful. 95+ plus positive. They praise the food. They praise the service. They praise ambiance.

So we are always disappointed when someone doesn’t have a good experience. Often though their complaints are understood. Over cooked steak. Hard to get in to. Etc.

Todays 50% rating was not one of those complaints.

The reviewer was upset that our chef wasn’t on the line cooking. They come to eat his food and last night he didn’t cook it.

So I explained to chef that he is only allowed to step away from the line going forward if we close the restaurant. No bathroom breaks. No vacations. No sick days. Don’t visit with your mom while she is here. Don’t work on your cook book while we are slow. Don’t come out front to visit with friends as you did last night.

All kidding aside. Our chef cooks about 90% of the steaks we serve. But everyone deserves a break. Last night friends were in. His mom is also in town. Sometimes he steps off the line to cut meat. Sometimes he works upstairs on new menu items. Sometimes he his upstairs cleaning the stock room, his cook book or our new wine list.

Who really thinks a chef/owner can’t step away to be a person?

Wait till he finds out that colonel sanders doesn’t cook at Kentucky Fried Chicken. Or Wendy’s is staffed by teenagers. Or that Red Robin has nothing to do with birds.

https://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/new-reservation-rules-for-the-restaurant-that-hosted-the-last-supper?fbclid=IwAR2pzDPrfvnbxDMuFnNqQ_cQz8pEwFfhqDBGcaeCCpN56xEmG55VMWtyXmQ

Today.

Was.

A

Day.

First I couldn’t sleep last night. Perhaps because of my full belly and the meat sweats. Perhaps because of the cappuccino I had at dinner. Perhaps it was that we had the lights off by 12:15 last night.

I couldn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t stay asleep.

I toss and turn all night. At around 10:00 I check my phone. It’s 10:00. I don’t have to be up for two more hours.

But.

There’s a text from an employee.

I think. I’ll deal with that later.

I try to go back to sleep.

I continue to toss and turn. I read Facebook for a bit. Try to sleep. Toss. Turn.

Eventually the alarm goes off at 11:30.

I pick up my phone.

My employee has pulled her back. It will be fine. I’m just sad she’s dealing with it again. I’ve been there and know how much it can hurt.

I also know that we’d have probably made a cut anyway so we’ll be staffed okay.

Then I check email.

I scan them to see if there are any fires to put out.

Fun fact. There are never fires at my current job. No one emails me to say what the fuck from the night before. It’s nice.

There are no fires, but one email is my staff line up from our scheduling tool. I open it since I know at last one person will be out.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A new employee is starting today. In my head I thought she was coming in on Friday.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It’s not that big of a deal but none of my employee documents are printed.

I get up. Get my day started.

I shower. Make lunch. Leave for work.

I’m almost to the highway when I realize that I need gas. I’m really bad about paying attention to the gas tank.

I have to detour to get gas.

Now I’m going to be late.

This isn’t great because I have a meeting at 1:15.

Now I’m not going to have time to check messages first.

I get there. Make a coffee.

Meet with chef.

This is interrupted by deliveries. By phone calls.

We get through our lists. It’s 1:49. I have 11 minutes to get ready for my new employee.

I open my computer just as she appears from the dining room. I explain I’m printing a few things and I’ll be right with her.

I print. Print. Print. Print. Print.

Since last season I’ve put together about 500 pages of training materials. Menu descriptions. Drink and wine list. Updated employee manual. Server training guidelines. Server manual.

It’s 2:02 when I print the last document.

I do my new employee meeting. A tour. We go over the menu. We go over the cuts of meats. I tell her the difference between a t-bone and a porterhouse. I tell her about the grills. We go through the handbook. We go through the server guide. I get to my favorite part, my speech on hospitality. I discuss restaurant culture. I discuss my approach to the guest. I discuss how I think of guests as people in my living room. How the guest is not always right but deserves to be heard.

I look up.

It’s 4:00.

I haven’t checked email. I haven’t done phone calls.

And then I remember we are rolling out the new beverage/wine list.

Fuck.

I need to get the new cocktails into the POS.

I get that done.

It’s now 4:20. Pre-shift starts in 10 minutes.

I find my list. I pee. I get a water.

It’s 4:30.

Pre-shift goes long. New drinks. New expo procedures. My list of things. The daily specials. It’s 4:50.

We have to be open in 10 minutes.

We get the doors open at 5:02.

It’s show time. A quiet start but show time just the same. First turn is quiet. By 7:00 we are cranking.

As soon as it starts it’s over.

Around 8:30 I realize I never ate the lunch I packed. My head is hurting.

Around 9:00 I sit down. With my lunch.

My staff starts to wrap up. We are tasting new cocktails. I meet with the new employee. She did great.

Everyone is gone by 9:15. Except table 31. And one poor server. Table 31 sat at 6:30. They are two older women who haven’t seen each other in 30 years. It’s a little after 10 when they finally leave.

Server finishes up.

I’m done a few minutes later.

My checklist is done.

But I’m standing in the dining room trying to figure out what I’m forgetting to do.

What am I forgetting? I recheck the thermostats. I check the front door. I recheck the gallery. Nope. Surely I’m being paranoid.

I go through the kitchen. Check the coffee station. Check the hoods. Turn off the lights. Lock the door.

Get into my car.

I text Adam to let him know I’m leaving.

I start my car and drive around the building to the road only to see that every light in the dining room is on.

That’s what I was forgetting.

I go back to the back door. Go in. Turn off all the lights. Retrace my steps.

Drive home.

It was a day and I get 2/10ths of what I needed to get done accomplished.

But alas.

Tomorrow is another day.