Check Please!

Did you know that there are 27 steps to fine dining? I didn't either, until I went to culinary school. One of my classes was restaurant management, and as part of the class, we waited tables in the school's fine dining restaurant, while our sister class played chefs in the kitchen.

Now, 27 steps might seem excessive...you think? It is. But interestingly, we were told that the most important step (I think it was step 23) was picking up payment for the check. That makes total sense. If you're running a restaurant, the most important step is getting the money, right?

It's important to the customer, too, because once they throw money down, they want to wrap up the meal and be on their way. Or even if they want to linger a bit, getting the check out of the way is good for the guest and the server. It doesn't let the server off the hook in terms of making sure your needs are still met -- more water or coffee or tea?

Even casual restaurants need a certain amount of dining steps. Twenty-seven is overkill in my opinion, even at a fine dining restaurant, but taking care of the check is important no matter what kind of restaurant it is.

Pet Peeve # 2

He saunters over to our table like he owns the place, but he's just our server. "Cheers," he says (about 30 times before the evening is over.) He tells us his name, something trendy like "Dillon," (I changed his name because I'm really not picking on him, too much) and ceremoniously announces he'll be taking care of us (what a relief!) -- in his own sweet time as it turns out.

The service wasn't really bad, per se, just lax. Of course, we were in a Texas ice house and the vibe is cathartically laid back to begin with. It seems as if everyone is moving in slow motion, even the guests. Maybe that's just Texas time and I've been out of my home state too long to recall the dawdling pace.

Most folks fall into one of two camps regarding the friendliness of servers. I've got nothing against friendly, or casual service for that matter, but I tend to not like my server sitting down at the table with us to take our order, or even sitting on a chair at a nearby table. Or leaning their butt on a nearby chair as Dillon was prone to do, which technically isn't sitting down, but still conveys the same assumed familiarity. It just sends a message that the server doesn't really want to be a server.

Hard to fault anyone for that -- I know I never liked waiting tables. But I never sat down with my customers because it just isn't professional. I don't care how casual the joint is. So what's the point of this post? Nothing really, just an observation about a(nother) restaurant pet peeve I have, ranked right after #1 -- waiters swiping plates before I'm finished eating.

Step Away From The Plate

I’m starting to sound like my parents. “Back in my day, (fill-in-the-blank).”

This fill-in-the-blank rant is about whippersnapper servers clearing plates from the table before I’m finished eating. I remember a time when servers wouldn’t even clear one plate until all diners at the table had finished, and it is still done that way in fine dining restaurants and in casual restaurants where management has properly trained their staff. If a diner pushes a plate to the edge of the table, that’s one thing, but otherwise, leave the stinking plate alone, please.

My husband says everybody does it now – it’s becoming an epidemic. It’s the young servers most eager to clear the table. It’s worse if the restaurant is slow and the servers are bored (why not go polish glassware?) but I’m wondering if perhaps this new generation has multitasking issues. Walking by a table on the way to the kitchen, they feel compelled to grab something, to save a step later? It’s so annoying!

We’re having dinner with friends at a casual but upscale burger restaurant the other night and our server (and every other server in the joint) is constantly picking at our table, trying to remove something. WE’RE STILL EATING, mind you, burgers in hand, sweet potato fries still on the plates, and they're trying to take them away. Good grief, kids. Let us old folks eat in peace… you’ve got a lifetime to clear plates.