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"I Will Have A Substitution On The Side, Please"

Restaurants have menus for a reason. The chef and/or owner took the time to sit down, figure out what kind of food they want to serve and planned their menu accordingly.

The menu is what it is. It's not a suggestion.

It never ceases to amaze me how customers can take a menu item and completely break it down to something else - something they like better. It's as if they think the pork loin medallions in the port wine and currant reduction are better without the currants and are better served with pommes frites than they are served over wild rice like the menu says.

The Husband and I were out to lunch and the table next to us was full of people who clearly had a plan when they were seated at the table. The plan was to take the menu, break it all down to bare ingredients and make it their own.

"I will have the chicken burger, but I don't want the focaccia it comes on, I want a regular bun, but I don't want the Swiss cheese it comes with, I want cheddar, and I don't want the red onion it comes with, I want white onion. I also don't want the fries it comes with. I want the Caesar salad, but I don't want it tossed with the dressing. I want the romaine to be topped with the grated Parmesan cheese and the croutons, and I want the Caesar dressing on the side."

"I would like the chef's chop salad but I don't want the ham and the turkey that it comes with. I just want the turkey and instead of a mixture of cheddar and Swiss, I want Parmesan cheese."

The waiter was so gracious. He was doing his job. But I know he went in the kitchen and called those people fuckers and the lunch chef threw his knife on the work bench and called them fuckers the sous chef called them fuckers, because it's his job to do as the chef does, and the dishwasher called them fuckers because he knew the chef was going to be crabby all afternoon.

I know this to be true.

As I took another sip of my lemon drop (yes it was lunch time and no I don't need a lecture) I was really close to taking a $50-spot, putting on their table and telling them to take their sorry asses to the grocery store to buy their own ingredients so they could play restaurant at home. I also wanted to let them know that as we spoke, someone may be "accidentally" dropping their chicken burger on the floor before putting it on the regular bun.

But I didn't.

Fuckers.
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Posted by Foodwhore at April 22, 2004 11:36 PM