Restaurant Specials: The Tender Trap
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The waiter announces the evening’s specials, without mentioning prices. The host of the party is embarrassed to ask how much everything is, fearing he’ll sound like a cheapskate. Specials are ordered and happily consumed. Then the bill comes, and they turn out to be more expensive than anything on the written menu. . . .
This story has been told so often over the years, that it’s practically a golden oldie of restaurant complaints. It remains, though, a matter of real concern to the dining public--as I was reminded by a recent note from a disgruntled restaurant patron from Beverly Hills. He asks that I not use his name, so I’ll just call him, oh, say, Mr. Buntz.
Mr. Buntz, it seems, had dinner not long ago at the Bistro Garden, in his home town. Specials were recited; prices were not. One of the specials was Dover sole. Several members of the Buntz group ordered it. When the check arrived, Buntz found that the fish had cost $29.50 per serving; the top main-course price listed on the menu, he notes, was $27--for the veal chop. “Sole is not particularly expensive,” he writes, “(and) there were no things like lobster, crab, etc. adorning it.”
He goes on to say, “I believe many restaurants use daily specials to ‘gouge’ the customer. . . . I personally find it too embarrassing (especially if I’m with another couple) to ask the waiter to mention the price. Yet, invariably, when the bill comes, what is ‘special’ is the inflated price.”
This is a tough one. To begin with, true Dover sole--the kind imported from the English Channel or the North Sea, which is what the Bistro Garden was serving--is indeed expensive. At present rates in L.A. it can cost almost twice what Maine lobster does. Unfortunately, the terms “sole” and even “Dover sole” are widely misused or misapplied in America, and there’s also plenty of cheap fish sold under that name. Maybe the Bistro Garden should have stressed the nature of the fish; on the other hand, maybe the restaurant assumed, correctly or not, that its sophisticated clientele would realize what the fish was, and anticipate a healthy price. (No diner likes condescension from the serving staff; I believe I stayed away from the now-defunct Les Anges in Pacific Palisades for at least a year after a young waiter volunteered the information one night, that “ foie gras is sort of like liver pate .”)
As for the question of reciting prices, Christopher Niklas, general manager/operator of the Bistro Garden, reponds, “The idea of being embarrassed to ask a price works the other way, too. In a restaurant like ours, a lot of diners would find it even more embarrassing to be told the price without asking for it. A lot of them would say, ‘What’s the matter? Don’t you think I can afford it?’ This is especially true when somebody is entertaining business clients. They usually don’t want to be seen as penny-pinchers.”
At the same time, Niklas continues, “I think that if price is important to somebody, they should definitely ask.” And why not solve the problem by listing specials on a separate menu card or sheet, reprinted daily? “Because,” Niklas says, “then we wouldn’t need the personable attention of the captains, which is something we’re very proud of here. It’s the captain’s job to describe the specials--and to tell somebody how much they cost if they ask.”
I think Niklas makes a couple of good points, and I suspect that in a restaurant like his--where dinner for two, without wine or cocktails, can easily cost $100 or so--most of the customers aren’t terribly concerned about whether a given entree costs $25 or $30. On the other hand, I’m not sure I understand why reciting a price to a customer should embarrass him or her anymore than handing out menus with prices written on them. And I’m not sure that specials should ever cost more than the most expensive item on that menu. (However expensive Dover sole is per pound, it’s still cheaper than good veal.)
But, finally, I think that if price is important to Mr. Buntz, he should jolly well ask what something costs. That’s not being cheap. That’s being savvy.
AND THERE’S PROBABLY FISH OIL IN THE TIRAMISU: The 300-unit Mazzio’s Pizza chain, headquartered in Tulsa, gets the mixed-culinary-message-of-the-year award: It has just started selling a new deep-dish pizza, complete with plenty of cheese and pepperoni and such--but with an unusual ingredient in the crust: oat bran! As we’ve all heard too many times, this is the substance that is supposed to help lower your cholesterol level--which probably wouldn’t have gotten so high in the first place if you hadn’t eaten so much cheese and pepperoni.
WHAT’S NEW: Jeff Williams of the mostly-pizza-and-pasta Noodles in Glendale has just launched the similarly themed Star Cafe in Montrose. . . . Restaurant veterans Larry Cano and Fred Le Franc, who manage such Orange County hot spots as Cano’s, Chanteclair, and Las Brisas, have opened !Salud! (“Not Just Another Mexican Restaurant”) in Corona del Mar, featuring dishes borrowed from Mexican, Aztec, Mayan, and Pueblo Indian traditions. . . . Enzo’s Talk O’ the Town is new in La Canada, with food by Angelo Strigini, formerly head chef of the super-luxurious Villa d’Este on Lake Como in Italy. . . . Roxxi has debuted in Pasadena, serving “Fresh Western Cuisine.” Norman Cheng, formerly of the Original Sonora Cafe, Caiote and Shane Hidden on the Glen, is chef, and Parkway Grill veteran Aabi Shapoorian is manager.
WHAT’S NEWS: Lalo and Brothers in Encino features regional Mexican specialties, live marimba music, and hand-shaken Margaritas every Monday evening. . . . And Ma Be in West Hollywood has introduced a Sunday brunch, served from 10:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. The prix fixe meal, which includes champagne, is $18.95 per person.
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