I have to work on V-Day. Odds are, if the current schedule holds, i'll be the closer. That means that I will be at the restaurant from 5 until midnight, at the earliest.
I don't mind Valentine's Day. I mean, not really. But in this industry, it can be a trying time. And sometimes downright awkward and uncomfortable. It's neophyte night.
These kids come in without a clue as to how much this meal will cost them and sit, silently, while they wait for the next course on the prix fixe menu to come to them. They drink water or a glass of house white, wondering why there isn't any white zin on the menu and share what little conversation they can muster up. At the end of the meal, which generally, due to the banquet-like service of the night, tends to be around one to one-and-a-half hours, they get up and go home. That's it. There isn't any sense of romance or deep affection in restaurants on Valentine's Day. It's an efficient money-making venture on the part of the industry.
It makes me sad. I wish that I could make a difference on this night for these couples who rarely get to have a romantic night. Truth be told, though, the failings of Valentine's dining out isn't about the people who come in, it's about the failings of the industry as a whole.
We view you as novices. We take advantage of your cultural mandate to DO SOMETHING to rip what little romance there might be for you out of the equation. We do the prix fixe thing so that you choose that option and we can move you in and out like cattle. Then, when all is said and done, we bitch about the crappy tips and loss of professional diners on this night. The time that we spend serving you is time that we could have spent doing something else. It's banquet service at a premium. And you lose. Every time. Who wins? The restaurant. They make large amounts of money by running set-course menus that utilize items that either don't cost that much or are about to go over anyway so that they can maximize profits on what seems like a fair deal to the diner. It's a shitty practice and it's one of the main reasons I feel ashamed working on this night.
Although this isn't always the way restaurants run the business, it is the rule, rather than the exception. When and if I open my own place, this won't be the way I run my business. I might do a set-course menu, but it won't be that cheap and the diners will get their money's worth.
A real romantic dining experience would feel more like an intimate conversation for two over an exemplary meal. If that's what you want, hire a personal chef to create something special for you and the one you are with. If you want to go out, do your homework. A chocolate truffle at the end of the meal is meaningless. What matters is how you are perceived by the people who serve you.
I promise to serve you well.








