It’s no wonder more restaurant owners have not been charged with assault. The dining public really needs to be required to read a manual on etiquette when in a public eating space. Now the rules only need to be invoked when they leave their homes to mingle with other diners. Yet, it should be a tested requirement and in order to gain access to every place that serves something that can leave a spot, or a crumb, a test needs to be given.
Yesterday I had the pleasurable experience of dining at Pat Kuleto and Jan Birnbaum’s Epic Roasthouse in
Kuleto worked his design wonderment on the space combining the casually elegant with warehouse water pipe using every element of his soul to mingle with the robust of the bridge and the whimsy of Cupid’s bow. Excuse the pun, but he hit an epic bull’s eye with the space. And Birnbaum’s equally artist eye shows on every plate, whether crab cake, chicken salad, tantalizing potato wedges interpreted as French Fries or the onion rings, which could be used as one of Cupid’s targets.
Being a special occasion, I opted to drop off a Tres Leche cake earlier in the morning to be presented to my birthday guest. Epic’s Sous Chef, Kevin, couldn’t have been more accommodating when he met me at the service door and took control of the cake.
And, throughout the experience the service was impeccable. Some of the best I have experienced. I was told that there was a “cakeage” charge, beforehand, and I assumed it would equal a corkage charge. However, I felt guilty when the bill arrived.
The presentation of the cake was special. The cake was brought to the table, complete with candles sparkling, it was taken back to the kitchen and two plates appeared each with a scoop of ice cream within a beautifully designed cookie accompanying the pieces of cake.
When the bill was presented the “cakeage” charge was only $10.00 spurning my guilty feelings. When I inquired why it was so reasonable I was told that some people complain about the $10.00.
I guess some customers still assume restaurant owners and employees work for the mere excitement of being professionals at servitude. I am sure that yesterday’s cake presentation disrupted the flow of a normal kitchen service.
First, Kevin had to take time out from what he was doing to make sure the Tres Leche found its way from my car to the table.
The hostess had to match the cake with the reservation and table.
The waiter had to make sure that he didn’t ruin the surprise.
Someone had to place candles, light them and make sure the manager delivered the cake.
The waiter had to wait until the trick-candles burnt down.
He then had to take the cake back to the dessert station, and have the dessert chef present the pieces of cake on the plate, with the ice cream, and then redeliver the cake,
Someone had to box the cake, place it in a bag, and make sure nobody gave it to someone else, tipped it over, stuck a finger in it to try the treat or, worse, cut the rest of the cake.
All for ten extra dollars. It didn’t cover the ice cream. Forget the man hours.
And some people complain that it’s too expensive.
Why didn’t we all go to law school? At least then we could probably beat the potential assault rap.