Don't Let Your Systems Drive Your Customers Crazy! - Hospitality ...

SERVICE
The Dangers of Being a Host
A
recent dining experience of mine might be of interest to
some of you. My girlfriend and I go to a particular restaurant
at least once a week. As people have a habit of doing,
we had discovered a place that impressed us, and we’d fallen into
a pattern of regular patronage. We knew what we were going to
get; there were never any surprises just good food and informed,
friendly service.
The food is a blend of traditional Japanese artistry and local
ingredients. Always very fresh, always presented superbly, and
good value. The ambiance is modern, airy, chic. We bring the tone
of the place down by coming-in dressed in tracksuits after playing
sport in the evening.
I’d never had any disappointments eating there, so when a
group of my friends prevailed on me for a suggestion for a good
night out, I broke my usual golden rule and extolled it’s virtues. I
should have known better.
If a hospitality consultant gives a restaurant recommendation,
it is taken as gospel and creates very high expectations. I’ve
found that very few restaurants are consistent enough in their
performance for me to feel totally confident in their delivery. I
might go there myself, but I don’t usually recommend them to
others.
This particular night everything conspired against me. Sadly,
I was there as the host, cringing in excruciating embarrassment as
a performance worthy of Basil Fawlty unfolded around me.
We arrived at about 8.00pm, and were seated and offered
a drink. I noticed that there were less front of house staff than
“ `Bring me the owner’s head on
a plate!’, I seethed inside, smiling
through clenched teeth. ”
normal and that the tables were filling-up fast. The staff were
starting to move rapidly and gesticulate in that urgent manner
that denotes a foodservice system that is beginning to unravel at
the seams.
We ordered several large platters of sushi and sashimi. My
guests commenced a lively conversation which was punctuated
by the waiter returning at regular intervals to take orders for more
drinks. My friends were not being bashful with the alcohol, and
I’d foolishly suggested that Tadcaster Porter (a fairly potent stout)
went particularly well with sushi. They accepted this recommendation
with gusto and bounced into it.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the restaurant owner
and the waiters going into little huddles and conversing in an animated
manner. What was happening? I was beginning to become
concerned we had been there nearly 45 minutes, we’d had about
six large glasses of stout each, and no food in sight. I called the
waiter.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mr Eldred. We have twice the number of
customers we usually get on a Thursday night, and every table has
by Tony Eldred
ordered sushi. There will be a delay.” I confirmed this myself by
checking-out the sushi chef — this `sensitive artiste’ was resisting
all efforts to increase his productivity and was hiding behind a
decidedly hostile expression and a malevolent looking cleaver.
“I thought you said this was a good restaurant, Eldred. I’m
starving! Where’s the food?” It began good naturedly and slowly
rose to a venomous crescendo. An hour had passed; still no sushi.
I wanted to run away. It was time for action. I did the only thing
that seemed sensible at the time: I ordered sake for myself and
drank it. Then I ordered another.
The waiter finally approached the table after an hour and
twenty minutes and deposited three small plates of sushi, each
containing five pieces, on our table. You could feel the wave of
disappointment. “That’s not what we ordered. Where’s the sashimi?
This won’t feed six people,” said one guest. “Eldred, this is
ridiculous, what kind of restaurant have you brought us to? I
thought you were supposed to be the expert.”
Six stouts and two sakes can have different effects on different
people. I was half pissed and furious. Out of the hundred or
so times I had visited the place, why had they chosen to screw up
on the occasion I had brought guests? Why me Lord? . . . I called
the waiter.
He wasn’t having a good night either, and was obviously fedup
with dealing with irate customers. His response to my assertion
that we were not happy brought the full, shrill, bitchy, handson-hips
routine: “What are you complaining about? We’ve given
you something to eat! I wrote the right order on the docket, it’s
not my fault.”
`Bring me the owner’s head on a plate!’, I seethed
inside, smiling through clenched teeth. I stood-up
and went to confront the great man himself. He was
having a bad night too. Stifling the intense urge to
commit a violent crime of passion, I approached him
and told him of my disappointment. “What can I
do?” he replied with a shrug more reminiscent of Tel
Aviv than Tokyo.
Eventually we ordered something they could supply and we
all got fed after two hours waiting. The crowd died down, the sushi
chef became less menacing and the owner regained his composure.
He was most apologetic. He even sent us a complimentary
bottle of wine. Nice one — more alcohol — that’s just what
I felt we needed. My friends were already primed to the point
where they were drooling and talking shorthand.
Despite the owner’s attempt at conciliation, they were so unimpressed
with the place they elected to leave a ten cent tip after
a deliberately loud debate.
I still get rubbished about that night, and I’ve had reservations
about going there ever since. I know that I’m being unreasonable;
one in a hundred isn’t a bad screw-up ratio, but now I’ve
got this subconscious mental association linking the restaurant
with pain and social humiliation.
Tony Eldred is the Managing Director of hospitality management consultants Eldred
Hospitality Pte. Ltd. For more information visit www.eldtrain.com.au or email
Tony directly at teldred@eldtrain.com.au!
58 HOSPITALITY MALDIVES OCTOBER/NOVEMBER 2006