Tip Huge/It’s Later Than You Think
So, you might think we were done lecturing about how to go out to eat, but you’d be wrong—DEAD WRONG. We will NEVER stop lecturing as long as our friends in foodservice come to us with stories of woe, and that’s why we want to tell you a little story:
While searching for food the other night (in Santa Fe on a Sunday after 8 pm—otherwise known as a fool’s errand), our companion nonchalantly suggested, “What about Denny’s? I love Denny’s.”
After we had rolled our eyes so hard we could see our own brain, we calmly and rationally explained that we do not love Denny’s, however, and didn’t want to wind up going there. Oh, it’s nothing to do with being stuck up, but we did, however, reflect on the reasons for our disdain. Turns out it comes down to two things:
1. That time in Needles, California, when a Denny’s server dropped a MASSIVE plate of bacon (just bacon) at our table and then proceeded to act incredibly offended when we asked if it was a mistake and/or meant for another table.
2. That time we were working in a local fine dining restaurant (that we won’t name) on Christmas Day, and wound up there until after 10:30 pm while our last table repeatedly and drunkenly queried why we weren’t spending the holiday with family. Following that fun little shit-show, a compatriot of ours who was also in foodservice at the time invited us to Denny’s for a late meal. “My family is already asleep,” they said, “and I bet yours is, too.” And so they were. And so we went. And so it was so so so so sad.
Oh, don’t get us wrong, we spoke at length with the server about our earlier shifts and commiserated on the kind of monster who sits in a restaurant on Christmas Day for hours on end. We talked about the people who don’t celebrate Christmas (if you knew who The Fork actually was, you’d know our love of the Jewish people is thorough and well-documented) or those who don’t care (like, probably, that guy from Modest Mouse...we bet he hates Christmas) and, as is usually the case amongst foodservice workers from different restaurants, what the tips were like.
As we said, we worked in fine dining at the time, so the money was pretty alright, no question. Better than Denny’s, anyway. But still, despite how many books and stories there are about not being a jerk at Christmas, in our own experience, people tip poorly around that time of the year. We did OK that night, but still would’ve been more pumped on doing family stuff.
Which brings up another little pet peeve of ours—the people who sit in restaurants for hours. No waiter will tell you this because they’re trying to be kind because they’re trying to get a better tip, but they DO mind when you decide you want coffee more than two hours after you first sat down. “Take your time” is waiter code for “I’ll travel back in time and kill your grandparents so you never existed in the first place.”
And look—we know we’ve been lecturing you a lot lately, but since we’re one of the only people we know who hasn’t been going around shouting about how the pandemic is basically over—and since we know people can’t envision a world wherein they’re told they can’t go out to eat, we figure you’re gonna be in restaurants soon and should remember that it’s still dangerous for foodservice workers. And before anyone emails us about how they can just quit if they don’t like it, remember that restaurant workers everywhere have already been doing that, and nobody seems to like it.
So sure, you didn’t really learn anything new in here, but we hope you at least think about tipping 25%. Otherwise, stay home and make a grilled cheese, you horrible monsters.
We’ll close out this week with a micro-story:
The Weird Date
By The Fork
Once upon a time, many years ago, when we were but a youthful Forkling romping through the fens and spinneys with our school-aged chums, when the twilight lit the hedge rows like a lambent flame, we finagled a date with the most beautiful person in all the land. Days we spent primping and preening, anointing ourselves with fine perfumes—weeks went by as we built up expectations to an untenable degree.
And then, the day came, and all the lords and ladies of the land sent us the loveliest cakes and exotic oils from all corners of the globe in celebration. Children sang in the center of town, and unseasonable warmth cleared out the clouds to make way for the happy, shining sun.
But imagine our horror when this young person brought a friend along to our super-hot Red Lobster rendezvous. What, ho, we wondered—how shalt we split the cheesy rolls now?
“I just ran into them outside,” the beautiful person lied, their eyes screaming something about how they were just too chickenshit to tell us they thought we were gross. And gross we felt as we were seated by the squire at the door, a young lad who, upon exiting the room, returned moments later to announce: “I’m also a server here, so I pretty much know everything.”
Baffled by this show of misguided who-knows-what, we laughed heartily, quaffing our sweetened teas and hearing those three words that bring any beautiful person and troll-like Forkling together: “It’s Shrimp Fest.”
And indeed, though the date, sadly, fizzled shortly thereafter, ‘twas not over. Many years passed and many Shrimp Fests rose and fell. The reflection in the mirror, once a taut reminder of youthful glow, now presented some sort of ghoulish wrinkle monster; if there be an aging portrait in an attic someplace, ‘twas never of The Fork. Tears fell always until, one day—good news from the postman!
“O, frabjous day,” we chortled at no one in particular as we cracked the wax seal of some foreign dignitary! “Calooh! Callay! This letter informs us that very rude and spineless young person—has died!”
And so it came to pass that we won at life, continued to draw breath and, like the Red Lobster squire, pretty much knew everything.
The End
Naw, just kidding. They’re still alive (as far as we know), but we look forward to your “don’t joke about death!” emails (also jay-kay, we really don’t).
P.S. Le/La/L’Forkette is far more beautiful than this other monster, too.
Yeah, dude hates Christmas for sure.
Also
-Mayhap you heard a couple of workers up at Canyon Road’s El Farol tested positive for the coronavirus? Indeed, and it’s sad. From what we’ve gleaned on social media, the eatery will be closed for the time being until management feels confident they can reopen safely.
-You might also have heard the celebrated food genius Sean Sinclair will soon be reopening the Legal Tender in Lamy, and though there’s no other news as of yet, Sinclair himself has stated the restaurant’s Facebook page is the place to be for updates.
-You might know Santa Fe artist Alberto Zalma from his trés recognizable skeleton works (click that link to be whisked away to examples), but you might not know that he’s fixing to take over a small space beside his Guadalupe Street gallery for small bites and coffee and drinks and stuff. Our spies tell us this is in the early stages, but that we can expect an announcement before we know what’s what.
-Hey, readers—thanks for never telling us about Canyon Road’s Ahmyo Wine Garden. Jeeze. We tell you about all the cool stuff we hear about, but we had to learn about this from our mother? GROSS! The place is beautiful, but seriously, you owe us one. Maybe if you’re bummed about El Farol but still have your heart set on the most gallery-filled street around, this is a good way to go?
Apropos of nothing—we just like it (and a couple of you wrote us to say you prefer when we have two videos in each newsletter. Wait a second. Is...The Fork weird? Are we doing this weird? Are we not like other newsletters? Wouldn’t you rather this than some Pioneer Woman nonsense? Wouldn’t you rather this than a blog by Tim “Suck City” Tracker about how fucking Disney did who even cares? In our fantasies, Tim challenges us to a fight after learning we’ve been dogging him for months, but since we’re actually a fine mist, he can’t land blows.
More Tidbits
-Seems venerable (or acceptable—your pick) fast food chain Taco Bell has gotten into the anime game to sell their nacho fries. Yes, the Fry Force commercial is ruffling feathers and using trends to better sell melted cheese on fries, although we’re not against melted cheese on fries. Take a look:
-Over on USA Today’s site, meet the fisherpeople who want you to know there’s no such thing as trash fish. Quips fish fan/worker Ben Martens of Maine, “It’s coming out of the ocean, it’s not like we’re talking about highly processed fast food.” Indeed. Perhaps try an anime commercial, Ben?
-Oh, good—Paris Hilton has a cooking show on Netflix. Now, before you get all judgmental about it, please note that Hilton is apparently not above making fun of herself and her...cultural persona (or whatever you’d call it). We’d point out that while Cooking With Paris seems OK, you should really be watching Nailed It on Netflix instead. That’s the one where people who are terrible at things try to bake fancy treats and suck at it and we all laugh.
-Know what a ghost kitchen is? It’s this thing where a “restaurant” only exists insofar as there is a kitchen that makes food to be delivered. It’s a little weird and restaurant folks everywhere are not so into it. Anyway, the folks behind the Kroger grocery stores (and also Kroger brand pudding) have teamed up with ghost kitchen start-up Kitchen United to put some of these bad boys right into Kroger grocery stores. Gross? Good? Who cares!
-Lastly in not-just-local stuff, here’s a link to a recipe for awesome Jell-O shots.
A Totally Scientific Breakdown of The Fork’s Correspondence
In this week’s print edition of SFR, our intern spoke with Radish & Rye founder/chef Dru Ruebush. Dude is apparently super-interesting.
Number of Letters Received
47
*Another folks-are-outta-town week (thanks for the nice auto-replies, though!)
Most Helpful Tip of the Week (a barely edited letter from a reader)
“Where should I go?”
*Anywhere you want, little baby!
Actually Helpful Tip(s)
Reader Victoria B. turned us on to Alexis Nicole, aka @blackforager, on Instagram. We’re obsessed with Nicole’s foraging skills and photos now. Thanks, Victoria!
*Yeah, thanks!
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Tipping at least 25%,
The Fork