Two kinds of people

FOOD | Julianne Glatz

There are two kinds of people in this world, those who have worked in food service and those who haven’t.

It’s not the first time I’ve heard that sentence. In fact, it’s axiomatic to anyone who has ever worked in food service. I heard it again recently when my son, Robb, told me about an experience he recently had in Brattleboro, Vermont, where he lives.

Robb walked into a restaurant and sat down at the bar 30 minutes before closing time. Having worked in several restaurants when he was younger, he knew that the kitchen staff would have already started breaking down (cleaning and making sure food is stored safely). But he had a bit of a sweet tooth that evening, and wanted a drink to go with it.

“I’ll have a piece of key lime pie and a look at the cocktail menu, please,” he said to the bartender, realizing that pies would already have been made and that ordering a slice would have little impact on the kitchen staff that is anxious to go home.

Twenty minutes later, as he is finishing his pie and drink, a woman comes in and sits at the bar a few seats away from Robb.

“Do you want to see a cocktail menu?” the bartender asked the newcomer.

“Yeah, and a food menu, too,” the woman replied.

Robb raised his voice just enough that she could hear him: “What time do you close?” he asked the bartender.

“In ten minutes,” answered the bartender. “What’s good here?” asked the woman.

Without waiting for an answer, she said, “I think I’ll have the chicken wings with ginger sauce, and then the pulled pork pizza.”

Robb threw a sympathetic look to the bartender who asked if he needed anything else.

“Nope, I’ll just take my check,” Robb replied.

The bartender handed Robb the check.

Robb said, again raising his voice a bit, “There are two kinds of people in this world, those who have worked in food service and those who haven’t.”

“Can I have your check back for a second?” the bartender asked Robb. The bartender walked away with the check. Returning a minute later, he handed the check back to Robb, who saw that the cocktails had been crossed out and that he’s only been charged for the slice of pie.

Looking up, he and the bartender shared a look of mutual understanding and appreciation.

All three of my adult children worked in food service during their student years, especially Robb and my younger daughter, Ashley. Their jobs ranged from being a barrista, server, line cook, catering manager and a private chef for a wealthy family. They became vehemently opposed to going to a full service restaurant near closing time, even when the restaurant didn’t close for another 40 minutes or so.

I shared Robb’s story with Ashley and wasn’t surprised when she revealed her attitude has changed somewhat: “Well, there are two sides to that coin,” she said.

The change is because Ashley has not only had experience working in restaurants, she’s owned her own catering company and brunch restaurant. If you talk to the person who pays the bills and salaries – be it chef, owner or manager – most likely you’ll hear a different, or at the very least more nuanced perspective.

Such was the case when I talked to one of Springfield’s best and most highly respected chefs. But for him, there was no nuance: “As far as I’m concerned, if you come into my restaurant, you own the table,” he told me. “That’s an absolute rule. If patrons linger for a long time after lunch service, they are handed over to the evening wait staff.”

He related an experience from his culinary student days while interning at an upscale restaurant in a resort town. He and two fellow interns were dining at another upscale area restaurant. The three were the last patrons in the place, and the wait staff began sweeping, putting up chairs on the tables and grumpily making it clear to the interns that they had overstayed their welcome.

Because he was in the business, our chef friend called the restaurant’s manager the next day, not in anger or to complain. He and his fellow interns felt they needed to let the manager know what had happened.

That evening just before service, the three interns were busily prepping when they were summoned to their executive chef’s office. Afraid they were somehow in trouble, the trio was surprised to see the manager, maître’d and wait-staff captain from the restaurant they had visited the day before. The manager wanted the interns to describe in person what had happened. The interns weren’t chastised, but the maître’d and wait staff captain received a serious dressing down.

“But customers have to do their part by having good manners; there’s no excuse for rudeness,” said the now-chef, citing an incident where a patron was so obnoxious to the staff that he was asked to leave and never return.

The chef and I disagreed once during our conversation. In upscale, “white tablecloth” restaurants, of course diners should not be hurried along, even if servers are waiting to seat other diners with a reservation. It’s the responsibility of the reservationist(s) for pacing the flow, although the variables are mind-boggling and impossible to always get right.

But what about a casual or mom-andpop no-reservation establishment that depends on turning over tables several times each service to be profitable, and whose servers count on multiple tips from small checks? While I’m not saying that diners should bolt their food and run when there is a crowd waiting to be seated, I think it’s rude and inconsiderate to linger; both to the restaurant and its servers and also to the waiting customers. (If it’s not crowded, go ahead and take your time.) But our chef’s “customers own the table” rule is absolute, regardless of restaurant type.

My different opinion solidified years ago when the original Magic Kitchen Thai restaurant was in its heyday on Peoria Road. Anyone arriving later than 15 minutes before the Magic Kitchen opened could count on having to wait for a table, even on weekdays. On weekends it was a madhouse, with folks standing around or sitting on their car trunks in the parking lot with coolers (it’s always BYO). Inside, the waiting room was packed body to body, with folks savoring the delicious smells while watching the dining room intently to see which tables would be available next.

My husband and I usually went early for the first seating, but for whatever reason that weekend night, things were already in full swing when we arrived. Going inside to put our names down, we saw two couples who were friends of ours. We chatted for a few seconds, noting that they’d finished their meal, with only pie crumbs on their plates and the check with change in their table center.

We squeezed into the crowded waiting room. And began to wait. And wait. And wait. We expected our friends to leave soon, but they lingered. And lingered. And lingered. We were keeping a lookout on the entire dining room, but as time passed our eyes continually strayed to our friends, almost trying to will them to get up. They finally left 45 minutes after we’d arrived. By then we were furious; though we would all still be friends, things were never quite the same.

Robb has a point. People who haven’t worked in food service can’t fully appreciate that despite the seeming calm in the dining room, working in a restaurant is a high-wire adrenaline-charged act for everyone from busser to chef; especially if things are busy.

Most important, as our chef said, is that both patrons and restaurant personnel display good manners and common courtesy, unlike the (non-Springfield) restaurant owner who told a couple arriving 30 minutes before closing, “Business was crap tonight; I’m closing it down.”

Without good manners, servers know they won’t get a good tip. Late-arriving patrons who exercise common courtesy, such as asking what can be quickly made or by giving a larger tip than usual, are more likely to be accommodated – and maybe even given a free slice of pie!

Contact Julianne Glatz at [email protected].