PRESENTING YOUR CULINARY CREDENTIALS
"Aren't waiters wonderful!" Dudley Moore exclaims drunkenly in the film Arthur. "You ask them for things, and they bring them!" Well... sometimes.
Among restaurant-goers, service -- or the flagrant lack therefore -- continues to be THE major cause for complaint. Part of the problem, of course, lies in the fact that, unlike most European countries, we simply do not take service seriously. Apart from those few quintessential bastions of haute cuisine, proprietors and patrons alike labor under the delusion that any blithering idiot with the appropriate number of appendages is qualified to wait at table -- and we continue to reap the horrendous benefits of this convoluted thinking.
For the serious diner, this sorry state of affairs has several rather important implications. First, all things being equal, the higher you ascend in the restaurant hierarchy, the greater your chances of receiving superior service. Secondly, even if your waiter/waitress is a completely insufferable and insulting oaf, it is usually not worth spoiling a perfectly good evening by getting your back up and making a scene. Finally, regardless of the nature of the establishment, if you are perceived by the wait staff as being a cut above the usual "grab 'n' growl" clientele, you will undoubtedly be treated with deference and respect -- if not a certain degree of awe. Good help is, most assuredly, hard to find... but good diners are positively an endangered species.
Your primary task then is to present your culinary credentials to your server as promptly and as unobtrusively as possible -- and your first opportunity will not be long in coming...
When you are canvassed regarding your choice of preprandial libations, your response should be polite but firm and reflect an economy of verbiage: "Two watchamacallits, please." Debating the issue for a full five minutes, while your server does a slow burn, will instantly mark you as a plebe on a weekend pass and automatically deduct several points from your culinary scorecard.
Also bear in mind that WHAT you order is of equal importance. Nothing (save the selection of appropriate or inappropriate vintages) conveys your winner/loser status at table more emphatically than does your choice of cocktail or aperitif. A dry sherry, for example, is beneficial to both palate and appetite and is the perfect prelude to a fine dining experience. Ordering same immediately identifies you as an individual of extraordinary discernment. Champagne (a single glass), Scotch on the rocks (preferably single malt), and the ubiquitous dry martini are also perfectly viable options. Should your particular choice require a token amount of manual dexterity on the part of the mixologist, always state your predilection unequivocally and indicate a SPECIFIC brand: "A very dry Absolut vodka martini straight up with lemon peel."
If a good call with regard to liquid libations clearly establishes your savoir-faire, a poor one demonstrates the lack thereof with even greater alacrity. Ordering some preposterous concoction accompanied by a paper umbrella, for instance, immediately brands you as an irredeemable nebbish. Beer is a perfectly acceptable beverage and certainly has its place -- but that place is certainly NOT in a fine restaurant. Anyone requesting a brew in an establishment more celebrated than a local happy-tappy should be deported to the nearest bowling alley via Panamanian freighter.
One additional point... The purpose of a cocktail/aperitif is to ENHANCE the appetite not drown it. Slugging down five or six martinis before the appetizers have even hit the table will definitely NOT impress the wait staff, nor will it do your palate (or your pocketbook) any earthly good.
Which prompts a final cautionary word to the gentlemen. If you are an incurable romantic, and you and your spouse/significant other are contemplating serious postprandial hanky-panky, you would do well to remember that excessive alcoholic indulgence has been known to sabotage certain vital erotic functions at the most inopportune of moments (to say nothing of impairing your judgment and driving ability). If you wish to avoid a letdown (in more ways than one), it might be wise to go easy on the sauce.
Bon Appétit!
