Restaurant Angst
In a recent posting, Irish blogger Twenty Major complained about new contraptions in restaurants which deliver both salt and pepper from a single dispenser, although not at the same time.
He should stop his complaining - at least the serving staff let him handle the device himself. I hate like hell paying half my weekly wages on a nice steak with caesar salad just to have some waiter hover next to my table with a pepper mill, offering to crush out some pepper onto my plate.
Why? Am I too weak to operate the pepper mill? Do I look so unsavoury that the staff thinks I'm going to run away with the mill (I can't - my pockets are already stuffed with the cutlery). And just because I ordered 12 ounces of scotch to go with my 8 ounce steak, are they insinuating that I am too smashed to use a pepper grinder? After all, I drove back to the hotel with my rental car which is more complicated to operate. Or are pepper corns so dear that restaurant management has a strict policy on portion control?
On top of this, the grinder never gets it right. Too little or too much, not distributed evenly according to my exacting specification, depositing errant pepper flakes on food which never should get peppered (viz. onions, mushrooms and the like) - the risk of misapplication by someone other than the person who will actually consume the meal is too great.
And what about the social dimensions of this intrusion? I mean you are forced to make eye contact with a busboy or waiter who smiles fauningly at you while making circular motions with his wrist. Is he trying to suggest something? Is he trying to pick me up? Do I look gay or something? How disturbing!
This routine is nothing but a tip-pandering scam masquerading as service. If they really wanted to offer me a useful service at the restaurant, they should wash my car while I eat, run down to the corner store for lottery tickets, or give me a shoulder massage prior to eating.
The last person to put pepper on my food was my mother when I was still eating from a high-chair. And she still bears the scars.
Food service staff, beware.
He should stop his complaining - at least the serving staff let him handle the device himself. I hate like hell paying half my weekly wages on a nice steak with caesar salad just to have some waiter hover next to my table with a pepper mill, offering to crush out some pepper onto my plate.
Why? Am I too weak to operate the pepper mill? Do I look so unsavoury that the staff thinks I'm going to run away with the mill (I can't - my pockets are already stuffed with the cutlery). And just because I ordered 12 ounces of scotch to go with my 8 ounce steak, are they insinuating that I am too smashed to use a pepper grinder? After all, I drove back to the hotel with my rental car which is more complicated to operate. Or are pepper corns so dear that restaurant management has a strict policy on portion control?
On top of this, the grinder never gets it right. Too little or too much, not distributed evenly according to my exacting specification, depositing errant pepper flakes on food which never should get peppered (viz. onions, mushrooms and the like) - the risk of misapplication by someone other than the person who will actually consume the meal is too great.
And what about the social dimensions of this intrusion? I mean you are forced to make eye contact with a busboy or waiter who smiles fauningly at you while making circular motions with his wrist. Is he trying to suggest something? Is he trying to pick me up? Do I look gay or something? How disturbing!
This routine is nothing but a tip-pandering scam masquerading as service. If they really wanted to offer me a useful service at the restaurant, they should wash my car while I eat, run down to the corner store for lottery tickets, or give me a shoulder massage prior to eating.
The last person to put pepper on my food was my mother when I was still eating from a high-chair. And she still bears the scars.
Food service staff, beware.
posted by nanuk at 7:50 AM Permafrost
4 Comments:
OMG! I am SO with you on this one! I thought I was the only freak to get fucked up over shit like that...
The restaurant is trying for the posh effect. It doesn’t work. I feel like crushing the waiter's skull with the oversize mill. The waitresses seem to enjoy handling the long pepper mill - come to think of it so do the waiters, hmmm...
I'm a simple guy. Bring the food and get lost. If I need something I'll ask.
The food should be properly seasoned before it gets to the table.
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