I am an educated person. I have a law degree and have practiced law for fifteen years. I love to cook. My mom was a great home cook. My brother is an executive chef for a well-respected restaurant. I devour Bon Appetit and Gourmet (pre-so sad demise). I adore my cookbook collection--I like to read them like a book. But I'm confused. A waiter recently described a dish to me in a mediocre restaurant and I have no idea what he was talking about at all. My fellow diners looked just as stunned (or bored) by the lengthy description given by the waiter. Having waited tables, I felt for him and don't know how he remembed it all (unless he utilized the Palin method). As the chef described the specials, he probably felt like punching him (or her) in the face. Heck, I felt like punching the chef myself.
This experience caused me to come up with my list of "real people rules" for restaurants. By "real people", I don't mean the occasional diner who is just as happy to eat a frozen pizza at home. I don't mean the ridiculous people who regale everyone with stupid explanations of a wine's notes. I don't mean people who boast about all the great places they've eaten in the world.
No, I mean those people who care about food, but aren't food snobs...the ones who will populate your restaurants for years to come with consistency. The rules are simple:
1. Unless you are a "destination" restaurant, give up the ridiculously long dish explanations. By "destination restaurant", I mean somewhere where you have to plan way ahead to get reservations, but not just because the restaurant is an "in" place for the moment. It has to have been consistently excellent for a very long time. Examples? French Laundry, Le Bernardin, Charlie Trotter. Otherwise, just keep in simple--make us want to eat it in five words or less.
2.The only exception to this general rule in (1) above are: (a) restaurants whose menu is in a foreign language; and (b) places using really funky, alternative cooking techniques--just because I want to know what they did to the food.
3. If it's a garnish, don't bore me with the description of how its prepared (a great example--the myriad of places who describe in loving detail the chiffonade of "insert herb here" that tops the dish).
4. We don't care about the explanation or description--only how it tastes. If it's delicious, we'll come back. Spend your time perfecting the dish, not figuring out how to describe it.
Now, I'm going to eat some yummy "grilled tenderloin". See how easy it is?
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