My good friend Tom and I walked into a restaurant and sat down. We were quickly greeted by the waitress. She handed each of us two menus and a third that we could share. Tom shook his head and said, “Why don’t you write about this?” He was referring to the plethora of menus that casual dining establishments are so fond of.
He has a point. In fine dining establishments your server will offer you a menu and perhaps a wine list. Not so in mid-level joints. They have so many choices to offer they can’t possibly fit them all on one menu. Even a large bill of fare won’t do. They load you up with gastric greeting cards and hope for the best. I ate breakfast a while back at a pancake house. Alone with nothing better to do, I counted the items on the menu. I would tell you exactly how many items they offered but I lost count after four hundred and nineteen.
And it’s not enough for them just to list what they offer. Oh no. They offer pictures, glossy, color shots of everything from pancakes to steak which is supposed to whet your appetite. I would be willing to bet a bottomless pot of coffee that the pictures aren’t selected at random. Sorry, but I have a strong suspicion that the featured items have the best profit margin. Let me put it this way: While I’ve seen plenty of juicy steak glamour shots, I have never seen a picture of an open face turkey sandwich on a menu.
The funny thing is that the photos themselves are not always attractive. You would think they would spend a lot of time and money to show you a USDA prime steak with all the trimmings. To my eye, admittedly untrained, the glossy photos displayed on these menus often give me reason to pause. Actual food stains would be more appealing.
Another thing that drives me crazy: The menus are humongous. Sitting at a table for two, we’re forced to wrestle with two-story pieces of plastic. Holding a conversation behind these barricades isn’t easy. You’re reading the menu but it feels like you’re playing hide and seek. Your dinner partner could take a powder and you’d never know it. Of course having a menu to hide behind can be good if you have personal business to attend to like blowing your nose, applying some lipstick or taking a furtive glance at the attractive person at the table next to you.
The second menu serves one of three purposes. 1. The specials: stuff they can’t seem to move but think some of us will go for if it looks like a bargain. One of my favorites is surf and turf. The term itself brings to mind filet mignon and lobster tails. The picture on the menu is hamburger and haddock. 2. New menu items: Entrees that common sense tells you will never make the regular menu. When a casual dining spot announces that it is proud to introduce its special Beef Wellington recipe, even a neophyte is smart enough not to order it. 3. Desserts: Everybody loves dessert. Have you ever noticed that pictures of death by chocolate cake and cheesecake are always front and center? Apparently, FDA regulation 604A requires it. Unfortunately, since your server confiscates all menus as soon as you order your main meal, you’ll probably forget which dessert you picked. Don’t worry though, your server will return later waving that menu in your face ready to bully you into ordering one.
What about that third menu? If the server doesn’t actually hand one to you then you can find it disguised as a flip chart sitting next to the salt and pepper shaker. You know what’s on there don’t you? That’s the alcoholic beverage menu which lists all the colorful drinks, with designer names. Selections include broken heart martinis, watermelon manhattans, and mango margaritas. So many flavors, to choose from, so little time to decide -all sporting happy hour prices.
One of the biggest challenges in the first decade of the 21st century is information overload. Having to contend with so much information and too many choices when all you want is lunch seems silly. Recently, some well known restaurant chains spent gobs of money rebranding their restaurants. They changed décor, color schemes, uniforms and logos in an effort to win back customers. Tom and I could have saved them a lot of money. Just give us an uncomplicated, easy to read menu.
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Showing posts with label restaurants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label restaurants. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Was That You I Saw on the Restaurant Wall?
I was having dinner one night in an Italian restaurant that does a decent job of recreating the look and feel of the old fashioned neighborhood Italian restaurants in the great Northeast. Those places with their simple tablecloths, hardwood floors and weighty dishes with tiny floral patterns had a homespun feel to them. Sitting in the chain operated restaurant I got a bit fixated on the large photos that seemed to cover every wall in the place.
Most of the photos were black and white shots taken between the turn of the last century and the 1950s: Ordinary people doing ordinary things. Some were posed and others were candid camera shots. Of course the pictures aren’t on the walls to hide cracks in the wallboard. They’re intended to make us feel like guests in the home of friends with lots of warm family photos on display. Such schmaltzy marketing is not limited to Italian restaurants either. Lots of restaurants adorn their walls with photos that remind us of simpler times. The selections often match the restaurant’s theme. In a country cooking spot for example, you’re likely to see men in overalls standing next to an old John Deere. Italian restaurants have pictures of people that look a lot like my grandparents.
Lately, I’ve taken to wondering who the people in these photos were. Whenever I eat in a restaurant that uses old time photos I find myself trying to imagine what their lives were really like. I also wonder how happy they would be to discover that their likenesses are plastered all over the walls in 570 Cracker Barrel locations in 41 states for example. Celebrities are happy to give restaurants a glossy 8x12 including an autograph. They want people to remember them. But I don’t think people that led quiet lives actually gave their permission to display their images in all these restaurants. It’s just as unlikely that they all happened to be professional models that were paid for the photo shoot and then signed releases in exchange for a few bucks.
I know it sounds like a small thing but put yourself in their shoes. After you’re gone do you want your picture hanging in a rib joint, a seafood shanty, or heaven forbid, a fast food outlet? What if the photo some marketing guru happens to select fails to take into account that you had a cold the day the picture was taken? (Is that a cold sore just under my lower lip?) Besides, what if the photographer was in a hurry and got your bad side? I know what you’re thinking. Who cares? I’ll be long gone by then. Well, some people might care if they knew about it.
Legally, there probably isn’t a thing to be done. But consider this: What if your picture is hanging on the wall of thirty-something diners in 14 states right now? Yes, how do you know your mug isn’t smiling down on table number 22 at a local bar and grill hundreds of miles from here? Face it, there’s no rule that says you have to be dead before they can make 500 copies of your likeness and put them on the wall overlooking the restaurant counter stools at Waffle Houses all over the south.
Right now my high school prom picture could be hanging in a delicatessen somewhere in Poughkeepsie. With my luck there’s probably a gravy stain on my cummerbund. If I knew which deli it was I suppose I could do something about it. But I don’t. I just checked to see if the photography studio that took my prom picture is still in business. They are. Just to be safe, tomorrow I will call them. I’ll demand that they cease and desist from selling or otherwise distributing my likeness to restaurants that think customers are more likely to have a good time if they’re surrounded by photos of perfect strangers.
You might think that in an era of digital cameras and camera equipped cell phones, easily downloaded to the Web, the possibility that your picture might be hanging on an eatery wall, is the least of your worries. Fair enough but if my picture is on the Web I can locate it and possibly have it removed. If my snapshot is hanging on the wall of Rudy’s Deli without my knowledge, that’s a problem. In addition to making a restaurant feel homey, those photos are implied endorsements. Suppose I don’t think Rudy makes a decent Reuben?
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
Most of the photos were black and white shots taken between the turn of the last century and the 1950s: Ordinary people doing ordinary things. Some were posed and others were candid camera shots. Of course the pictures aren’t on the walls to hide cracks in the wallboard. They’re intended to make us feel like guests in the home of friends with lots of warm family photos on display. Such schmaltzy marketing is not limited to Italian restaurants either. Lots of restaurants adorn their walls with photos that remind us of simpler times. The selections often match the restaurant’s theme. In a country cooking spot for example, you’re likely to see men in overalls standing next to an old John Deere. Italian restaurants have pictures of people that look a lot like my grandparents.
Lately, I’ve taken to wondering who the people in these photos were. Whenever I eat in a restaurant that uses old time photos I find myself trying to imagine what their lives were really like. I also wonder how happy they would be to discover that their likenesses are plastered all over the walls in 570 Cracker Barrel locations in 41 states for example. Celebrities are happy to give restaurants a glossy 8x12 including an autograph. They want people to remember them. But I don’t think people that led quiet lives actually gave their permission to display their images in all these restaurants. It’s just as unlikely that they all happened to be professional models that were paid for the photo shoot and then signed releases in exchange for a few bucks.
I know it sounds like a small thing but put yourself in their shoes. After you’re gone do you want your picture hanging in a rib joint, a seafood shanty, or heaven forbid, a fast food outlet? What if the photo some marketing guru happens to select fails to take into account that you had a cold the day the picture was taken? (Is that a cold sore just under my lower lip?) Besides, what if the photographer was in a hurry and got your bad side? I know what you’re thinking. Who cares? I’ll be long gone by then. Well, some people might care if they knew about it.
Legally, there probably isn’t a thing to be done. But consider this: What if your picture is hanging on the wall of thirty-something diners in 14 states right now? Yes, how do you know your mug isn’t smiling down on table number 22 at a local bar and grill hundreds of miles from here? Face it, there’s no rule that says you have to be dead before they can make 500 copies of your likeness and put them on the wall overlooking the restaurant counter stools at Waffle Houses all over the south.
Right now my high school prom picture could be hanging in a delicatessen somewhere in Poughkeepsie. With my luck there’s probably a gravy stain on my cummerbund. If I knew which deli it was I suppose I could do something about it. But I don’t. I just checked to see if the photography studio that took my prom picture is still in business. They are. Just to be safe, tomorrow I will call them. I’ll demand that they cease and desist from selling or otherwise distributing my likeness to restaurants that think customers are more likely to have a good time if they’re surrounded by photos of perfect strangers.
You might think that in an era of digital cameras and camera equipped cell phones, easily downloaded to the Web, the possibility that your picture might be hanging on an eatery wall, is the least of your worries. Fair enough but if my picture is on the Web I can locate it and possibly have it removed. If my snapshot is hanging on the wall of Rudy’s Deli without my knowledge, that’s a problem. In addition to making a restaurant feel homey, those photos are implied endorsements. Suppose I don’t think Rudy makes a decent Reuben?
Copyright 2008 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.
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