Recently I read an amazing essay calling to notice the differences in child-rearing theory here in the United States and in foriegn countries, and instantly I thought of thought of two prime examples relating to a restaurant setting. Here they are, I'll let you draw your own conclusions:
I had a great table of eight people last Saturday night. Notice I didn't say four adults and four kids, because such a distinction was not necessary and I'll tell you why: The make up consisted of two married couples, the husbands were Peruvian and the wives American, and each couple had two daughters. By my guess, none were older than twelve, the youngest was maybe six. When I greet such tables, I always accomodate the children first by reccomending our children's menu steak strips and fries, or maybe a "grown up" dish of parmesan crusted chicken breast with lemon sauce. Wasn't I surprised when they ordered their lamb chops with Dijon sauce medium rare. Beyond this, their manners were impeccable; a stern look from one of the fathers was all it took to quiet a giggle that had reached an unacceptable decibel level. When I offered the girls lemonades to start, they accepted only after a nod from their parents and knew much better than to request refills. I snuck them a little more with their dinners. After cleaning their plates they did not even think about dessert, and when one of the mothers offered what seemed to be the youngest of the girls a cup of coffee, she replied, "Thank you, but I think I'll pass tonight," when she noticed no one else was having any coffee.
I have to reach a little farther back for my second example, when I was working at a high end steakhouse in center city Philly, lets call it "Davids." The steakhouse was connected to a hotel, so we had no shortage of expense accounts and out of town businesspeople dining with us. One night I was seated with a Japanese hotel guest, his wife and young son, maybe six years old at most, who had made the business trip as well. The child, like his father, donned a three piece suit and red silk tie, tied in a double oxford knot. After making a similar approach to this table as I had with the girls- reccomending some child-friendly options- the young boy politely thanked me in perfect English, but deferred instead to a New York strip steak, done rare, with Gorgonzola sauce and a side of steamed asparagus. I almost fell to the floor. Now this is the type of place that when a child ordered a fifty-dollar steak, we would push it out on a cart and with much regalia, cut it up for him or her into bite-sized pieces to save the parents the trouble. I knew that would not be necessary this night. When presented with the steak, the boy proceeded to grip his silverware in the European style, cutting it perfectly down the middle; savoring one bite sized piece of corn fed prime beef at a time after dipping it lightly in melted bleu cheese. That woozy feeling came rushing back and this time I really did feel as though I might hit the floor.
My point is that these children were taught it was an ablolute priveledge to be in a position to eat out, a special treat they should really enjoy. They are not bored or exasperated by it like many American children who eat out in some form every day. These are not the children that let me stand at the table for five minutes, poring over four children's menu items and refusing to order, despite the embarrased and desperate pleas from their mothers. "David's" didn't even have a children's menu and my young friend knew that being a steak house, we must have had a New York strip on the menu, his choice of sauce and side dish were merely a bonus. So after dining out at a high end restaurant myself this past Sunday with my prized eight month old nephew, I've decided that if parents were to teach their young ones how priveledged they are to have someone else cook their food and then serve it to them, I'd waste a lot less time during my busy shifts coaxing finnicky brats in into ordering the chicken fingers they knew they wanted all along. And I'd certainly be sweeping up less cruhed Cheerios from under my tables!
Take a minute to think about whether a server has ever earnestly complimented your children on their restaurant behavior, and until next time, remember 20% is always expected (and maybe add a few more percentage points for messy or unruly children).
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