"hannaraskin" news and stories

Photo: David Sifry, Flickr.

Just like heroic epics and Hollywood romances, server horror stories tend to unfold according to a very specific formula: Server meets guests. Guests like server. Server takes order. Server disappears.

While servers who spill coffee on their guests or forget to bring an extra fork are generally forgiven, there's no redemption for servers who vanish. Without their server in sight, guests feel neglected, trapped and exasperated by the entire eating-out experience. It's a rotten situation, which is why most diners who've posted here about terrible service have admitted to at some point wondering where their server went.

Assuming that question is sometimes posed sincerely, I offer here a few solutions to the Case of the Missing Server. Note that these explanations aren't excuses: Great servers don't go AWOL, ever. But there are many rational reasons, unapparent to guests, why servers can't be found. He or she just might be ...

1. Splitting checks. Here's one task that's become more laborious with the advent of computers. To prevent employee theft, most electronic point-of-sale systems are designed to make shifting guest tabs a tricky, multi-step process. Woe to the server who accidentally sticks Seat 3's fried wonton app on Seat 4's bill: On some popular systems, such an error can only be corrected by recombining the entire check and starting over. Creating six separate checks -- and gathering up six pens for signing them -- can take a server off the floor for up to five minutes (which, to a guest waiting for an iced tea refill, feels like an hour).

Photo: stopnlook, flickr

Many of you honestly believe restaurant servers have a cushy job that requires them to do little more than deliver food to a table and collect $180 an hour for their trouble. Fine. I'd like to call a temporary truce in the great "Are waitresses worth their keep?" debate and focus on another front-of-the-house staffer this week: The hostess.

Like most servers, I've been pressed into host duty when an employee hasn't shown up (or showed up too hungover to accurately monitor the seating chart -- hostesses are almost always the youngest, most inexperienced and least committed members of a restaurant's crew.) Hostesses have it hard.

Hostesses have to deal with customers at their hungriest, thirstiest, worst. It's not uncommon for customers who feel they haven't been seated quickly enough to hurl insults at the hostess or subject her to stem-winding rants about the crooked nature of the restaurant industry.

But here's what patrons never, ever do: In my experience manning the host stands at restaurants so ritzy that my job description included turning away male guests without jackets and in eateries so casual that "please wait to be seated" signs were dismissed as snobbish affectations, nobody once offered me a bribe.

Photo: terren in virginia, Flickr.

So much for putting a wiener on a stick and calling it dinner.

Campground cooking, once the province of anyone who could wrap a potato in tin foil, is becoming increasingly sophisticated. Vicki Loughner, who's coordinating the 2009 South Carolina Campground Cookoff, reports it's not uncommon for campers today to get cracking on a recipe for spinach sausage quiche.

"They are very serious about the cooking they do," Loughner, project manager for the Old 96 District Tourism Commission, says of the teams registered for this weekend's competition. "When you look at their food, you'd never know it was cooked over a campfire."

In pursuit of the $500 prize, some entrants this year have purchased their own Big Green Egg, the fetishized grill with the startling price tag. But Loughner says it's not just the promise of riches that's inspiring outdoorsy gourmands to up their dinner game. According to Loughner, more and more South Carolina campers are applying their "Top Chef" sensibilities to campground menu planning.

Photo: hunter.gatherer, Flickr

Most diners have mastered the art of eating with a fork, but a surprising number of them still use their fingers to signal when they want something from their server.

Granted, restaurants aren't always designed to make it easy for guests to grab their servers' attention: Eateries tend to be noisy, dark places in which it's sometimes impossible to communicate with the person seated directly across from you, let alone the staffer who's scurrying forward and back with tall stacks of plates.

Customers often resort to the most primitive methods of expression: They snap their fingers. They wave their arms like football referees. They pantomime signing a check, often adding such enthusiastic flourishes to their imagined John Hancocks that they nearly strike someone at a neighboring table.

Photo: Erix, Flickr

Want to really confuse your server? Leave a 15-percent tip.

There's nothing more ambiguous than the 15-percent tip, which could just as well be a "thanks for nothing" grat from a miffed diner who always leaves 20 percent or a sincere show of gratitude from an infrequent restaurantgoer who thinks 15 percent is still the going rate for good service. Only the tipper knows for sure.

Fortunately for servers, fewer customers today seem to fall into the latter category, which is now mostly populated by the very old and very stubborn. Surveys show the vast majority of Americans have transitioned away from the 15-percent standard which ruled the food and beverage industry for decades, with the national average tip rising to 19 percent in 2008.