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The Trouble With French Waiters |
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| The Trouble With French Waiters We hate to say it, but, there's something about French waiters. Something, well, unpalatable. Andrew Leslie refuses to let them put him off his Ros Bif. French chefs knew how to be celebrities long before TV was invented. Early on, they learned to surround themselves with serving staff whose high-handed demeanour and ruthless professionalism were guaranteed to make customers feel humble and privileged to be allowed into their restaurant.The trouble is that every waiter in France enjoys the same skills, even in two-bit brasseries where the haute cuisine practicing runs no further than an under-done croque monsieur. The locals won't have any truck with this, so it is the tourist who bears the brunt. Especially those who don't speak French. Even more especially those who come from a country well-known to sterilise lamb by smothering it in mint sauce. Step forward a shy English couple - an ideal opportunity for our waiter to do his best by way of haughty patronage and lofty disdain. Here are the things he hopes for: They won't speak French (He can refuse to speak English) They won't understand French (He can translate the menu - as patronisingly as possible) They don't know how to order well-done steak (so that he can tell chef to keep it as bloody as possible)They want something not on the menu (He can shrug and tell you it is not possible) They are vegetarian (Opportunity for disbelieving eyeball-rolling at such heresy)They'll ask for biscuits with the cheese (Ditto - and an opportunity to palm you off with stale bread) They won't know anything about wine (He can pass off anything he wants on you)They'll make a fuss about something (Wonderful opportunity for the full range of outraged histrionics) You can't win of course - the odds are too heavily stacked in the waiter's favour. But you can survive. Here are the two most successful strategies:Total Rabbit The object is to be utterly submissive - so much so that our waiter takes pity on such abject specimens - and doesn't treat them too badly. Apologise at every opportunity - sorry to take up your table - sorry to waste your time - sorry to come from an uncivilised nation that doesn't eat frogs or horse. Combine this with grovelling admiration (by look or gesture, if linguistically challenged) - what a lovely view of the back yard - what a pleasure to be here - how much we wish we were French. Appreciate your environs at every opportunity: What wonderfully simple toilets! What a splendidly dry baguette! The chef is a genius. You're obviously a star waiter. You are destined for great things. I deeply regret I have never met your cousin working at the famous Hartlepool Ritz. Throw in the odd bow and scrape, and Bob's your oncle. What you lose in humiliation, you gain in reasonable serviceCounter-Attack Needs some research - but can pay off. The object being to unsettle waiter by not conforming to type. Don't enter restaurant until you have: Scrabbled together a few French phrases Found out the name of an obscure local cheeseFound out the name of an equally obscure local wine Invested in a copy of Gault Millau's famous restaurant guide (optional).Failing this, buy a French newspaper, and chortle sporadically at its meaningless content. Enter: Leaf through Gault Millau significantly. Spot desirable table and make for it. If headed off, look determined. On approach of waiter, speak French - doesn't matter if you run out. Sit in silence. Force him to try out his English.Choose purposefully from menu, even if not sure what you are ordering (think of it as research). Ask for the obscure wine. Look disappointed at non-availability. Ask waiter for the 'next best' Ask for the obscure cheese. Ditto. Ask the name of every other cheese on the board. Ask which farmers have supplied them. It goes something like: 'Quel fermier vous fournit les fromages?'At each course, consult the Gault Millau. Write some notes on your napkin. Tip lavishly. Oh, and never call the waiter 'garcon'. (well, would you like it?) Bon Appetit! Photograph © Andy Farrington Information was correct when first published on MyTravel in November, 2001. © MyTravel |
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