The low drone of voices in restaurants is as common as the cry of gulls to the sea. However, ensconced among those voices are often the juicy sound bites of critics, all breeds. Those craving good gossip should aim their cupped ears towards the tables of restaurateurs, foodies, and chefs. I suppose it’s fair game in a city that continues to be saturated in restaurants and food trucks.
As an self-certified epicurean, cook, aspiring chef, and critic in my own right, I’ll probably get some flack for this or be subjected to a version of the Spanish Inquisition. I do admit to being party to these verbal annihilations. We’re all critics and all have opinions, but recently working FOH at one of Miami’s premier spots has been a real eye-opening, ear-jarring treat. Naysayers are oblivious to my foodie-dom and, luckily for me, their warring whispers drown out the sounds of my mental stenograph clicking away.
I’ve come to love the gratifying awkwardness of approaching a table and witnessing a patron’s guilty conscience tell his mouth to pause as I walk into the first words of a snide remark about the temperature of his perfectly cooked beef, or the obnoxious music, or how rude that the chef wouldn’t add cucumber and tomato and a put the dressing on the side to a carefully curated salad. “How is everything sir?”- Me with a smirk. “Oh, everything is just beautiful.” – Him, with a straight face.
That scenario involving a popular, local restaurateur actually happened making his a “blood-in-the-water table”, one which I surreptitiously began to circle like a hungry shark. Most of that jabber is really just an over-stuffed bouquet garni of envy, competition, ego, judgment, and expertise all steeping in a big pot of I-can-do-it-better stew.
Here are some other sound bites I’ve collected over the years….
“I hope the food budget doesn’t match the décor. It looks like she hired Sesame Street to decorate this shit-hole.” (-mums the word)
“It’s all blah food. None of it excites me.” (One chef about a few other restaurants in Miami)
“He has no idea what he’s doing in that kitchen.” (-a restaurateur about a previous chef he used to employ and now runs a successful restaurant)
“I woulda’ copped some Church’s for this shit. My 3-year-old can make better fried chicken.” (-an athlete at a hip-hop moguls ATL restaurant)
“Make me wanna lick the plate. If I need a “to-go” box…I’m “to-going” home and not going back.” (This one made me chuckle inside, because I agreed.)
Of course these comments will all remain anonymous. I’m certain that I’ll continue to witness the hush-hush fork and knife wars that wage on. And of course, none of this sways me from the dream of one day owning my own food establishment. I simply see it as fodder for a journal that will help me build a better plan. So… carry on.
