Nick Iles details the customer behaviour that makes the hard-working hospo folk of Wellington want to crawl inside themselves and scream ferociously into the endless void.
Table Service is a column about food and hospitality in Wellington, by Nick Iles.
Going out to eat is one of life’s greatest pleasures: like cigarettes in Europe or your cat walking straight at you when you come home. But for those working at the place you’re dining, it can sometimes be a little bit more tricky. While most restaurant goers are lovely, there is a select group who make staff want to crawl inside themselves and scream ferociously into the endless void.
I checked in with some of the hard-working hospo folk of Wellington to work out what goes on inside of the mind of “that customer”.
Booking ahead
The thrill is in the spontaneity. Maybe you’ll come, maybe you won’t. Maybe it’ll be this place, maybe not. Book five places for the same night and choose the vibe you like best when you’re two wines deep. Ghosting a reservation isn’t rude, it’s mysterious. Restaurants love guessing games and empty tables. It keeps them humble. You are not responsible for a restaurant remaining profitable.
NB Restaurants that require a booking deposit are greedy and should be avoided at all costs.
The arrival
Doors are hard. If you find one closed, leave it open behind you like the trailblazer you are. Walk in fast and don’t look back. Those seated directly around the door area will love you for the refreshing air you have given them. If you spot someone heading towards you to greet you, head them off by beelining straight to the table you assume is yours. Nothing says “this is my night” like walking up to a table without asking.
No booking?
Have you ever wondered how a restaurant actually operates during busy periods? Like, how do they manage to have that many people all sitting down at once yet still bring all the food and drink out in good time? One of the things they do is stagger bookings to ensure there is a constant flow of people at different stages of their meals at any one time, meaning the kitchen never gets jammed with a backlog of orders and front of house can ensure drinks flow freely all night. This is boring and not your problem.
If the host says they’re fully booked, look shocked. Make sure to point at an empty table and ask, “What about that one?” That’s checkmate. Never mind that tables are staggered for service flow, your need for burrata is immediate and urgent.
NB If you wander in eight minutes before closing, say something like “just made it!” and laugh. They’ll laugh too and you will have a great, late dinner.
Sitting down
Most restaurateurs have not bothered thinking about the layout of their dining rooms. Tables and chairs are simply in suggested zones. If the seating arrangement is not to your liking, change it. Pull up a chair from another table, rearrange the entire layout if it doesn’t suit your needs. You absolutely can sit next to your friend from work is a right laugh – the couple next to you on their first date will love being irrevocably drawn into your night through you being inches away from them.
NB If a surprise guest arrives, grab the nearest chair, even if it’s part of a table clearly being set. If anyone challenges you, shrug.
The menu
Think of the menu not as a plan, but a list of suggestions. Mix and match. Ask for your own custom creation. If they say no, look hurt. If they charge extra, look offended. Again, it is not your problem that the chef will have costed out the menu and every change will affect the bottom line.
NB Claiming an allergy when you just don’t like mushrooms is a classic power move. Say it loud enough for the kitchen to hear – if it’s an allergy, they have to do it.
Ordering
You are never ready. That’s the fun. Wave the server over, then start reading the menu for the first time when they arrive. Let them return several times, and then when they finally stop checking in it is time to summon them urgently. Keep them on their toes.
Interacting with your server
This is your moment to connect. Ask deep, probing questions about their life plans. “So what do you really want to do?” is a good start. Assume this is their side hustle. Treat their job like a temporary holding pen until they start their real career in, presumably, law or graphic design.
The arrival of food and drinks
When the food or drinks arrive, carry on talking. Let them work around your elbows and handbags like a low-stakes game of Risk. Don’t move. Certainly don’t thank them. That’s their job. That’s what they’re paid for.
The check-in
This is your spotlight. When the server checks in, it’s time to deliver feedback that’s both unsolicited and immensely subjective. Let them know exactly what combinations you think didn’t work, the chef will appreciate the chance to be a better cook. If you have notes about the plating, offer them with authority. You’ve watched enough My Kitchen Rules to know what you’re talking about.
NB Don’t mention issues now, wait until you’re paying. Or better yet, drop a furious TripAdvisor review once you’re home and onto the whisky.
Finishing up
Look around. Everyone’s gone. The staff are clearly tidying and sweeping. Stay. This is your moment of peace. Order another round. Ignore the stacking chairs. If they start turning off lights, joke that you’re “shutting the place down”. You are. And they’ll never forget it.
Bon appétit!
