Busboy

Host Note: I moved the posts by mojoman andrewB to this existing topic "Tipping the Kitchen."

That could be it. Even if the ice cream isn't as good as I remember, please don't tell me! I will weigh in on the other thread after lunch.

Is there still a place in Clifton called "The Farm" or something similar to that? Some of the great memories of my childhood involved hot summer nights and long walks to "The Faaahhhm," as my Massachusetts-born grandma would call it. Where I lived, out in the Maryland 'burbs there was no such place, and it was considered a highlight of summer vacation.

I'm reminded someon I heard working the mic while the hat was being passed at some rally or another: "As the preacher said -- we need your contribution, but I have a condition, and the jingling of change kinda gives me a headache." I don't know if its a hard and fast rule, but people in the business when I was in it considered tipping change low class. On the other hand treating customers with outright contempt was tacky, too. Interesting dilemma. My solution would be to order enough drinks to get the bar tab up to the point where 15-20% is more easily measured in paper money than in change. Untrue. Tips should be rounded up, but if I'm being served half-priced drinks, I'm under no moral obligation to tip double. It takes a waiter just as much time to serve a hamburger as a steak, but he doesn't expect a higher percentage for selling cheaper food. That's just the biz.

I know how long OUR "hostess" waited for us and indeed, it was not long enough. We got badly lost trying to find the place where she had insisted we dine. We did manage to straggle in 45 minutes late, only to discover that our "hostess" had waited about a half-hour and then left. Our group stayed and ate, and much of the conversation centered around how long we would have waited, were the situation reversed. We agreed that given the variables (six people, foreign country, etc.), we would have waited 1-2 hours at least. I mean, as others have suggested, go to the bar, have some snacks. Don't know that there is any "right" or "wrong" answer, but we were curious as to what others thought would be a reasonable time. ← Let me flip the question around. Knowing that the restaurant was a 25-minute drive by someone who knew their way, not in rush hour, how much earlier should the guests leave to allow for getting dazed and confused on the way over? As for the earlier question, maybe an hour. Although if I'm at the bar drinking tequila it would either 2 hours ("my poor lost tourista friends... how can I abandon them...and where else would I rather be?) or 30 minutes ("those inconsiderate morons, where are they?") depending on how the tequila's magic was working that night.

I have to say that I really agree with this. I think this has become a problem in Paris. Since many tourists tip, owners use it as an excuse to only pay the bare minimum allowed by law saying that tips will make up for the low salary. The problem is that many natives don’t tip or tip very little, so you are relying on American tourists to make up for the low salary. In the past restaurants would give servers the service charge directly which was added automatically to the bill. As more and more people were leaving tips, the owners thought (I assume) that waiters were making too much and now pay a monthly salary instead, which is often the minimum wage and not enough to live on. ← This is not the fault of generous tippers but of tightwad owners looking for an excuse. Of all the things we Americans are accused of doing when we're abroad -- many of them true enough -- I refuse to feel guilty for tipping (I usually do +/- 5% in cash). ****** In a related question... Since California tipped employees are payed the same minimum wage as other employees ($6.75? it's above the national average), can I go back to tipping 12% when I'm in the sunshine state? I mean, every defense of tipping references the $2.01/hr most waiters get and talks about servers not getting a living wage. No that the owners are picking up a bigger share of their servers livelihoods (and surely passing the tab onto my shoulders in wine markups) I can cut back on the gratuity, right?

I'm not naive when it comes to germs and the real world. On the other hand, I do want to ask you a question, given your certification and obvious knowledge. You meet somebody who's obviously got a bad cold or flu and sneezing constantly into tissues in their hands, and after the introductions, they reach out and shake your hand. Do you make some effort or mental note to wash you hands before you eat, or touch them to your face (for any reason), or prepare food? Or do you just decide that's for the germ-phobics and go about your way? ← This actually gets at a larger issue. Restaurants generally do not offer paid sick days and usually have little staffing flexibility, so people on the verge of death by TB drag themselves in and spend their whole shift germing up the place. Flu season is no time for the germ-sensitive to be dining out. ← Oh man, don't even get me started on this. I nevver understood why, in an industry that is so concerned with health and food safety, that it be such a taboo to call in sick under any circumstances. i have seen several instances were cooks would frequently leave the line for "vomit breaks" because they were working with a 100+ degree fever. People are generally looked at as weak if they call in sick.It's fucked up, really, but that is how it is. ← There's a certain amount of macho bullshit but generally, you don't call in sick because you don't get paid and you get shit from your buddies who have to cover for you. The only time a restaurant worker will call in sick is when they are in a hospital, unable to be more than fout feet from a toilet for more than ten minutes at a time, or deeply and tragically hungover (and it's got to be a baaaad motherfucking hangover to keep them home. I worked through stuff that would kill me today). If you're going to feel terrible anyway, why lose a relatively huge chunk of change and face the anger of management and the taunts of co-workers when you return, why not stagger in? It's cergtainly a better deal for you.

You got a name?

I'm just curious. If "the best Philadelphia has to offer" could be ranked on a scale of silence and time spent sitting still in a hushed and formal environment, with one being Pat's (or whatever Rich prefers) and ten as Le Bec Fin (or whatever Katie chooses) and five is a up-scale ethnic or quality BYOB, what level of potential hassle to yourself, your child and the other patrons you are willing to incur?

Ramps are where the real money is in DC. Five bucks for a handful of weeds! Much more important to get the Subcommittee chairman or hot political columnist to your soiree than to serve the right organic peach for dessert. People here cater. And, I never said we don't have our own anxieties here (you could get dirty looks at parties here for working at the World Bank decades ago), nor that we never play a little "one up," with our biodynamic merlots, or new BMWs or whatever. But I will say I've never met anyone -- in DC or anywhere -- with the paralyzing food angst the people in the Times article have. (Perhaps they should have a friend FedEx them the $8 eggs from this topic, so they can one up the commoners buying $6 eggs from the Greenmarket. )

With the difference that French Bulldogs must be expensively purchased from elite breeders, but purslane is a weed that grows in my driveway. Of course, most New Yorkers don't have driveways, so the stuff probably seems a little more exotic.

And of course we know that Washington DC is foodie-anxiety free in all relevant geographic areas, too. Guess the NYT blew it again in getting the story wrong. ← DC is not a foodie town like New York. Our big anxieties all center around politics and law firms. Plus, since we prefer raw power to big money, we can't afford thousand-dollar brunches for our kids. (We can get them tickets to the White House Egg Roll, though).

Looks like an axis of anxiety stretching all the way from Park Slope to the Upper East Side. (on the Upper West Side, Steve Shaw is gleefully serving hot dogs and slaw to his guests, all of whom are laughing up their sleeve about those who lose sleep over the obscurity of their Olive Oil's origins). An amusing article but, let's be real, relevant to the lives of about 800 people in the world.

Thank you! I'm allergic to Windex, so I hate it when they use that (or Fantastik) in my presence. Mopping floors with something containing ammonia is also awful. ← Not to mention that the smell tends to permeate the restaurant, with unfortunate consequences for whatever you're eating.

I would enjoy a discussion that most consumers are unaware of. The USDA NAIS program or as I like to call it "No Chicken left behind". Where would be an appropriate place to put it? ← I'd think Food Traditions and Culture, if no one else wants to weigh in.

Busboy's post raises an interestisng point. Strictly speaking economically, of course, an object's value is determined solely by what a buyer is willing to pay for it. Hence, $20 million paintings made from $15 worth of canvas and $2.50 worth of paint. But when it comes to food, in the name of justice, we expect to have some direct correlation between price and actual cost of production, totally divorced from demand. Are there any non-food examples of this? The value of metal in cars is roughly similar whether you're talking about a ford or a ferrari. And I don't think there's $1800 difference in the price of the material between a suit from Sears and one from Armani. ← I buy my Armani on sale. And my Ferraris used. There's actually a couple different issues here, and if I could articulate them better than I think I'm just about to, I's probably break it into a better thread. The first issue is basic supply and demand and, as they touch us all in Econ 101 (the class so nice I took it twice), cost does not determine price, demand does, and if you can get $8 for a dozen eggs, the economist in me says: go for it. Though, I've never heard a farmer of any type explain why they sell sell their premium product at a premium price with the same lightly disguised snobbery that an Armani or Mercedes salesman would use ("you deserve it, you're a success, you're better than other people"). Rather, they talk about cost. Second, though, there's a whole level of political discourse around food that you don't find around other luxury brands. No one claims that they're trying to change the world by buying a $200 necktie. On the other hand, a lot of people claim that they're trying to change the world by buying or selling (let's pick on someone else besides the egg man) $12 free-range chickens and potatoes priced at about the same per ounce as foie gras. And not without reason. But, this attempt to change the world through dinner often comes wrapped in a kind of anti-corporate, neo-populist rhetoric that implies a certain solidarity with the masses. This is good, too. Unfortunately, when you're trying to change the world and the result becomes produce so expensive that poor and working class people can't afford to join the club ("why can't we change the world, too, mommy?" "Shut up and eat your monocultural corn-fed pork.") you've created a disconnect between the ideals of the movement and the result. If we could have the farmers without the politics then you wouldn't get cynics like Richman and aging lefties like me snickering at that disconnect. Of course, farmers and politics go together like Chablis and Brie, so the debate will continue.

Well, with the weather warming up it appears that my annual search for English peas has ended (again) in failure. I'm almost afraid to ask about them since even the most mellow organic-types will furrow their brow and sneer at the request. Apparently even this season's unseasonably cool weather did not help. Alas. Good news on other fronts, though. A new market has opened up at 14th and U where, if you're tired of organic mesclun, you can jump into the Micky D's across the street for a Big Mac. Sales were, I hear brisk. There some old buddies, including Truck Patch -- vendor of excellent strawberries and pork products, and Tree and Leaf reigning champs of cool-tasting green things. And some new folks, as well. (I will try to find my notes, or just go back next week). Even better, at Dupont Circle, Heinz has favas! Or had them -- I have most of them now. They should be available next week and maybe the week after, but get there early: I do.

I'm not naive when it comes to germs and the real world. On the other hand, I do want to ask you a question, given your certification and obvious knowledge. You meet somebody who's obviously got a bad cold or flu and sneezing constantly into tissues in their hands, and after the introductions, they reach out and shake your hand. Do you make some effort or mental note to wash you hands before you eat, or touch them to your face (for any reason), or prepare food? Or do you just decide that's for the germ-phobics and go about your way? ← This actually gets at a larger issue. Restaurants generally do offer paid sick days and usually have little staffing flexibility, so people on the verge of death by TB drag themselves in and spend their whole shift germing up the place. Flue season is no time for the germ-sensitive to be dining out. Also, during a busy shift, most floor staff are not going to dash back to the restroom just because they shook someone's hand. I'm not saying they shouldn't, I'm just saying with 80 other things going on, their first instinct is not to leave the floor unless they have to.

Waiters love it, too. One of the best dinners I ever had was when a delightful couple got too liquored up to finish their Stag's Leap Cask 23 (which I don't think you can even buy in DC any more, even at the suggested retail price of $175/bottle) so they gave me a half-bottle to sneak out of the restaurant after my shift. To make the evening perfect, the kitchen hadn't sold out of the extraordinary brioche they made, and I got a half a loaf of that. Toasted brioche and Cask 23 -- best shift meal ever.

I may have a practical take on this. Every time I end up talking wine with a Californian, I end up getting a lecture on how no two adjoining acres in Napa or Paso Robles (had a nice Anarchy Blend the other night, RR )are the same: This one gets the coastal wind, that one doesn't. Alluvial soil. Volcanic soil. Bench land. Valley floor. Slope and drainage. Microclimates. Morning sun. Evening sun. Not to mention that they've planted every varietal known to man. To have "terroir" don't you have to have a rather consistent soil/climate/slope/grape combination? I've been talking with a winemaker in Napa and they're playing all the usual California games of experimenting with different grapes and blends from with different clones of the same grape planted in different lots on the vineyard (which I found fascinating). I have no reason to doubt that they're looking for something that might be called terroir -- a grape combination that works perfectly for that particular 80 acres and offers the drinker a unique sense of place. But, unlike the relatively consistent hillside that is the Cote du Beaune, even I can see that his corner of the valley is very different from the adjoining vineyards, and I can't figure out how what works for him would work for them. When you get so many different combinations of "ingredients" even if everyone is aiming to become a terroirist (as RG would say) doesn't it just get too confusing to be of practical use?

(I will try to get a crabcake event going later in the summer -- when the corn and 'maters are in...anyone reading this please feel free to nag me starting on or about Independence Day). Among the reason I like crabcakes is that crabs are such a pain to eat, I prefer to get all the hard work done early (if we're working from crabs rather than store-bought meat) and then revel in the pure delight crab-munching without having to go back to work every time I finish a couple of ounces of meat. I'm actually pretty ecumenical in my cake tastes, which I'm sure drives some og the purists nuts. We do "French" crabcakes with buerre blanc and "Mexican" crabcakes with roast cumin and salsa and "Chinese" crabcakes with whatever's laying around the house. Plus more traditional variations, as well. And even if we are commiting apostasy, we do keep the flavorings subtle and keep the crab flavor in the forefront. Most important, we use Ritz crackers for our breading. Everything's better when it sits on a Ritz. Maybe a little cream, instead of mayo, if we're in the mood to moisturize.

Among other things, I am both a political hack and a former waiter. As such, I can confidently assert that the Brits do much better with wine than we Yanks. Should you be invited to a reception at the British Embassy you will almost certainly have a lovely but obscure Grand Cru Bordeaux ("claret") with dinner (which will likely be a hideous cliche of English cooking mated with American banquet cooking), and if you get to dessert, they'll pull some Port out of the cellar that will knock your socks off. Afterwards, if you're working the event, her majesty's butler will hand you an expensively embossed envelope with the royal seal on the outside and cash on the inside. Lovely. When a head-of-state shows up in DC, the White House, regardless of who's living there, tries pay off all its ethnic politics debts by inviting everyone with the appropriate surname to the dinner. I was not cool enough to go to dinner (Liam Neeson was, though), but being of Irish descent, a Democratic party hack, taller than my friend Laura, even in her heels and possessed of a non-rental tuxedo (see waiter job comments above) I got to go to the White House for dessert with the President of the Irish Republic. It's pretty cool. But the wine....not nearly as good as what the Brits trot out.

No I wasn't. The cost involved with small scale production really changes by locale. Northern California is about the worst. A typical small scale producer has fewer than 1000 hens. We looked at buying two different Amish poultry operations last year. The larger (Indiana) one had a few thousand hens, but all his labor was under 14 years old. They have 10 kids and live in less than 1000 square feet. The eggs need to be gathered, washed sorted and packaged. If we replaced his child labor with people who are paid a fair wage the $1/dozen eggs become much more expensive real fast. Some people think that buying a fattening dinner with a bottle of rotten fruit for hundreds of dollars and paying someone to observe you exercising the ill effects off the next day a tad absurd. ← (Where do you farm?) I realize that the costs involved in non-industrial farming are much higher, and happily pay two or three times grocery store prices for eggs at the farmers markets around DC (I think eggs top out at about $4.99/dozen here, I usually find something cheaper). And I absolutely think farmers should be able to clothe their kids, send them to college, afford decent liquor, etc. Some of my best friends.... Nonetheless, when you have to get $8 for a dozen eggs just to break even, it's possible that the economy is telling you to get into a different line of work. Although, if you can get that kind of money for eggs, go for it. Worse, though, from my perspective, is that when you start selling $8 eggs and $20 pancake breakfasts, you've taken something important -- sustainable farming -- and turned it into a hobby that only the extremely affluent can afford. Somehow we've got to figure how we can get farmers to make a decent living, and still get good, wholesome food into the gullets of people who are not well off. I don't think the Ferry Building is the answer, and I think Richman was right in taking a few pokes at people who think they've saved the world because they buy heirloom tomatoes (whom, let me clear are not limited to left coasters and may even include me ). But the Ferry Building may be an important stop along the way to this better world/economy/dinner. And I think Richman recognized that, as well, which is why I found the piece persuasive. I've spent too little time in California to know how y'all make out, but here on the East Coast, the article feels a lot like a big sloppy wet kiss. Anyway, I know where I'm headed next time I hit San Francisco. cheers.

Had dinner at The Club last night and had some of the best shrimp I've ever eaten and a Chicken Korma that was completely inedible. Still a lovely room, though, and excellent service all around.

I trust that you're not referring to me, because I buy "true farm eggs" by the gross. Nonetheless, eight bucks a dozen is a bit absurd. So is $6, but everything's more expensive in Manhattan, I guess.