Imagine that you’re dining in a high-end restaurant. Having gnawed through three of the five lamb chops on your plate, you pause for deep conversation with your dining partner.
An alert busboy swoops down, snatches your plate, and whoosh! There go two-fifths of your entree! Come back, thief!
Second scenario: You make quick work of your chicken-breast main course, while your dining partner lingers over his/her bouillabaisse. So you stare at a plate covered in green-bean detritus and congealing mashed potatoes, wondering if someone is ever going to take this unappealing mess out of your sight.
These two examples illustrate a truism in restaurant service these days: To the confusion of waiters and diners alike, there is no longer a universally correct way to clear plates.
In the old days, a diner who had finished a course placed the flatware on the rim of the plate in the classic four o’clock position, and any servant worth his cramped living quarters understood what that meant.
But those rules of etiquette were enacted with formal dinner parties in mind, when courses were cleared more or less at once and servers did not speak unless spoken to.
Today, we know our waiter’s name is Fabrice, we anticipate that he will deliver a verbal recitation of specials and we expect him to discuss the menu, and possible wine pairings, at length.
What we don’t expect is for Fabrice, or the busboys working under him, to know exactly what our fork placement signals. Nor can Fabrice and his associates assume that a fork placed just so means exactly what they think it means.
Heck, we no longer agree on how to clear plates.
The hard-and-fast rule used to be that a server would clear all the plates on a table, or none. That is, as long as one person at the table was still eating–or thinking about eating–nobody’s plate moved.
The rationale was (and for some, still is) that removing one guest’s plate constituted a silent rebuke of the other guests’ slow-pokey pace.
But, restaurateurs say, more and more guests insist on their plates being removed the instant they’ve finished eating–regardless of how their companions might be progressing.
“It’s changed so much,” says Steven Grand Pre, dining room instructor at the School for Culinary Arts at Kendall College, which operates a student-run restaurant. “Some diners want them [plates] gone right away. We see people push their plates off to the side. We’ve even had people start to stack plates.”
When a server sees a stack of plates, however rude it may have been to stack them, he/she can clear with confidence. Similarly, a bone-dry wine glass, or a plate so thoroughly cleaned that nothing remains but the china pattern, is obviously ready for removal.
But when food remains, says Grand Pre, silent assumptions are always dangerous.
“[That’s true] even when you see the fork and knife parallel on the plate with the handles on the rim,” says Grand Pre. “That always has been recognized as an indication that the diner is finished. But if he hasn’t eaten very much, the customer could be resting, and intends to eat more.”
When a server is in doubt, Grand Pre suggests a novel approach: Ask the diner.
But there’s a right and wrong way to do that.
Right: “May I take this for you?”
Wrong: “Are you still working on that?” (Implies that the meal is a craft project or something.)
“I tell my students that I’m old-fashioned,” says Grand Pre, arguing for the clear-the-plates-together camp. “Yet there are times when a person wants a plate cleared, in which case that’s what you do.”
Knowing each guest’s preference is just one of those feats of clairvoyance a waiter performs every day.
Danny Meyer, whose recent book, “Setting the Table,” discusses service issues with the benefit of 21 years of running restaurants such as New York’s Union Square Cafe, Gramercy Tavern and The Modern, argues mind-reading isn’t necessary.
“I think the best way [to read nonverbal cues] is not to have to be a reader,” Meyer says. “And the way to do that is, at the outset, to make it clear to guests that you’re a real person, not someone performing the role of a waiter. By engaging people with real dialogue early and letting them know you’re on their side, once it’s established that you’re actually plugged into that table’s needs, it’s easy to satisfy specifics, like how cold someone is or isn’t, or how thirsty someone is or isn’t. It becomes simpler to ask direct questions later.
“It helps to understand that we restaurateurs are hopefully good at cooking and serving and hosting, but most of us are pretty bad mind-readers,” Meyer says. “There’s nothing wrong and everything right in expressing needs, and not feeling defensive or offensive when doing so–just being direct.”
(I’m done with this story now. Thanks.)
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So how do you …
The humorous illustrations on today’s At Play cover page notwithstanding, few diners arrive at restaurants equipped with signal flares, red flags or other nonverbal props. So how do you:
Signal that you’re finished? Placing knife and fork completely on the plate–whether at four o’clock, parallel, crisscrossed, tines up or down–signals that you’re finished. Don’t be surprised, or offended, if the server asks, just to be certain.
Signal that you’re resting? Rest your flatware on the plate so that the handles are still on the table. If nothing else, this will prevent a busboy from whisking away your plate in one motion, so you have time to correct a mistaken impression.
Signal for a refill? Assuming your server isn’t checking on your table with proper frequency, catching his eye while tapping an empty glass ought to do the trick. (Waving your empty glass, while spitting out Saltines crumbs to indicate a parched throat, is just bad form.) A few weeks ago, a waitress delivered entrees to my table, and quickly sped away–even though our wine glasses were completely empty (we’d ordered by the glass). After several minutes with no sightings, we corralled a busboy and asked him to fetch our server.
Catch the waiter’s eye? A good server is always scanning his/her tables to see if anything needs to be done, but on a busy night, some waiters get distracted. I look directly at my server and raise my hand to no higher than the level of my eye (I’m trying to catch the attention of my waiter, not my math teacher), hoping that my plaintive body language will be noticed. If that fails, enlist help from a busboy, another server, a manager–any nearby staffer–by saying that you’d like to speak to your server.
Get the lights brighter? Raising a dining room’s entire light level is a lot to ask. If it’s too dark to read the menu, say so: “I’m afraid I’m having trouble reading the menu. Do you have a flashlight that I can borrow?” Restaurants should have little flashlights available, and even if they don’t, they can offer an extra candle, book of matches, creme brulee torch–something.
Send back a dish? Again, be direct. You don’t need to be a jerk about it, says restaurateur/author Danny Meyer. “If the fish is too salty, I guarantee someone made an honest mistake,” he says. “If you think anything should be better, it’s best to bring it up directly, immediately, clearly and in a way that doesn’t have to be adversarial.” Keep in mind that an over-salted fish or an overcooked steak does not entitle you to a free meal. But not only is it acceptable to ask that the dish be redone or to order something else, most restaurant owners welcome the opportunity to make things better. “The road to success,” Meyer says, “is paved with mistakes well handled.”
Complain about the temperature/noise? The direct approach is best. Tell your server what’s wrong, and what you’d like done about it. For example: “It’s awfully cold here. Could you please turn the heat up, or move us to a warmer table?” Keep in mind that raising the temperature in a large dining room takes time. Don’t wait until the cold or noise is intolerable before voicing your concern.
Ask for the check? “In formal service, you never give the check until the customer asks,” says Steven Grand Pre, dining room instructor for the School for Culinary Arts at Kendall College. “That doesn’t necessarily mean a verbal request. If the customer mimics signing his name in the air, or places his wallet on the table, you’d certainly want to bring the check then.” Usually, when you’re lingering over your third coffee refill and the waiter appears to ask, “Can I get you anything else,” he/she is giving you the opportunity to ask for the check.
During lunch, it is not only acceptable but often desirable to present the check before it’s requested, because so many lunch patrons are on tight schedules.
–Phil Vettel
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pvettel@tribune.com
