I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Adam and I don’t really eat out much when we are in town. We work all the time, and are paying for a house we love, and so when we are in Portland, off together, 90% of the time we are dining at home.  

That being said, we do travel a bit, and do eat out occasionally with friends.  

I very often take our experiences back to my restaurant to share with the team.  

Many times, they are great stories about how we were treated. For example when we were in NYC and were given dessert because we were the only non-business lunch happening, and it was clear we were enjoying ourselves.  

There are also stories that I take back to work with the statement of what NOT to do while waiting on tables.  

For example, two of our experiences in DC, last weekend.  

We dined at a kind of modern, French restaurant. Definitely not a bistro, which we love.  

The restaurant had 40 people stuffed into a space about the size of my office. Definitely, smaller than our master bedroom.  

The big problem is that I’m not a girl’s size 2. I’m chunky. I’m aware of my size. I’m aware of how much space I take up. And I was not allowed to forget it last Monday.  

Adam is my advocate in these situations, as I will often, make do. As soon as we walked in, we knew it was going to be a problem. Unfortunately, the tables were so quished together that there was not a better solution. He kept making suggestions, but alas all of them sucked.  

To get to the table we were taken to, I had to squeeze between a bar stool and a chair that were about six inches apart. Needless to say, I bumped into the chair of the man who would be sitting next to us as I tried to get to our table.

I get seated, and realize that if there is 6 inches between the chair and the barstool at the table next to us, there is going to be no room between my chair and the barstool. I tucked my chair as far under the table as I could, and now the table was sticking into my stomach about 5 inches. I couldn’t breathe.  

Then the service starts.  

The server had no use for us. Adam and I are not get to know your server people. We are polite. Friendly. And try to be gracious. We are there to be with each other, not to make new friends. This is also why we hardly ever sit at a bar for dinner.  

The server is abrupt, short and a little cranky. We order drinks. Adam asks to keep the wine list and is told no, the table is not big enough for the wine list and the food that is coming. It’s a 5 x 7 booklet. Hmmm. Okay.  

The meal progresses.  

Fun fact. Organic wines are yucky!!! This is all they serve. Give me all the chemicals. All of them.  

I watch as the chef, who is at the window, turns around to give someone doing the chef’s tasting menu, their first course. He’s got the personality for a wet noodle. There is nothing engaging or interesting about his interaction with the guests. He announces the food, like a food runner might. He tells them what it is, but never once makes it sound exciting. I’ve eaten many times at restaurants doing tasting menus, the chefs are always cordial, engaging and happy to have people eating their food. This was not the case.

Our food begins to arrive.  

However, I’m never able to relax because there is seriously, about three inches between my chair and the barstool behind me. And the staff has to pass behind me to get from the kitchen to the other side of the dining room. It was horrible.

I can’t tell you how happy I was when the couple sitting behind me at the bar finally left.  

The food was fine. Probably, even good, but the space was so ridiculous that I’d never, ever go back.  

Tune in on Tuesday night.  

We get to the restaurant, just as it opens. A Peruvian restaurant. We are excited to try it as Chef turned us on to the cuisine in Argentina.  

They open at 5:00, and it’s 4:59 when we are seated. We are the only guests in the restaurant. We hate eating this early, but a 7:00 curtain, means you eat at 5:00 or earlier, unless you want to wait till after the show.  

We are seated, order drinks. They arrive and we tell the server that we are ready to order.

Adam explains that we have to be on the sidewalk, waiting for our Uber at 6:15. We are probably going to order to much food, and that they should course it however works best for their timing and to get us out on time. We explain that they shouldn’t wait till we are finished with one course to get us the next.  

The restaurant is tapas/small plates and we always over order in these situations.  

ALWAYS.  

We order I think 7 small plates and an entrée to share.  

The server leaves. About 4.5 minutes later, the first plate arrives. And in quick succession, absolutely everything we have ordered lands on the table by minute 6. All the small plates AND the entrée. Oh. Except for the octopus, which never arrived at all.  

The table was covered in food. We had no idea what plates were what. The entrée was actively getting cold as we began to eat.  

We never saw the server again till around 5:50 when they came to see if we needed anything, and wanted dessert. 

We said no, asked for the check and by 5:55 we were standing on the sidewalk waiting for our Uber.  

So, friends.

What NOT to do.  

Do not create a space that works for you and not your guests.

Do not be unfriendly as a server.  

Do not misunderstand when someone says you do the coursing.  

Do not, not come back to the table.  

I could continue, but this feels like work.

PS. To end on a good note.

The restroom of restaurant 1 was also the size of my office. Seriously, they could have sat 25 more people in there.

The restroom of restaurant 2, was one of the most unique pretty spaces I’ve ever seen. I’ll post a photo.  

We would never go back to either restaurant.