Originally Posted by kennethpollock
Who is being the snob here and who believes in equal treatment for everyone? I submit that those of you who are saying that neither of the two types of service are wrong are snobs.
You are saying that the type of service that Jean-Georges and Le Bernardin provide to their customers is right for them, while the very different type of service that the patrons of the Olive Garden in Times Square, only a few blocks away, have to submit to, is also right. How can this be? There is only one type of restaurant service, the right kind, IMO, in both grand and more modest places in London, Paris and Rome, although you may get a few more waiters and somewhat more attentive service in the former.
So why is it in America, alone, that two types of service are both right? I submit that what you are saying is that the rich and priviledged Park Avenue types that frequent Jean-Georges, etc., are entitled to one style of behavior and the hick tourists from Des Moines and Atlanta that go to the Olive Garden deserve the other type of service.
I think that this is snobbism. I think that everyone who dines out deserves the same treatment, regardless of their wealth and social class. Therefore, one type of service is right for everyone. The other type must be wrong, even for the peons.
Okay. I've been sitting on my hands for awhile, but I just can't take it anymore.
I hear that in places like Paris and Rome (places that, frankly, fill my dreams with sweet smelling rose petals and slightly warm milk and honey), people pee champagne and poop light and fluffy chocolate tort. I sure does hope ta get ta one of them there places sometimes. I's only hopes that with my moddesst (sp?) upbringin' that I will fit in at them there high falutin' locations. I's been to London, but I's guess ever'one was hidin' the champagne and chocolate tort from me there, cause I didn't see none.
As an aside, everyone knows that any culinary innovation that comes from the United States is, by default, wrong and subject to justified ridicule. People who dip their bread in olive oil prior to consumption. Imagine! The peasants.
You've convinced me Ken - the next time a waiter has the audacity to tell me his name or attempt to recite the specials (imagine the nerve!) I will promptly strike him about the face with my soup spoon and have the rascally peon fired, to be returned to the streets from which no doubt he orginally came. There he will be free to contemplate the life he once had, firm in the knowledge that he'll never rise so far again.
I truly hope at this point that you are kidding. If not, I pity the poor employees of the restaurants whose doors you will someday darken.