Restaurant Training - Let "I.C.U" Be Your Motto

The Secret to Restaurant Training

"Your job is to make tips - large ones and lots of them."

That usually brought a smile to the face of my new server.

"My job is to help you."

The smile became a grin.

"First, you must memorize the magic formula - I.C.U."

A puzzled look? Then I explained.

"I" stands for Immaculate. That's what you'll be. I expect polish on your shoes but not on your nails. You will wear a crisp clean uniform - tucked in, buttoned up, fastened as appropriate.

Your hands will be clean enough to perform open-heart surgery with. Your nails will be short and neat. If you're a woman, your face will be very lightly made up. If you're a man, it'll be cleanly shaven. If short, your hair will be trimmed and brushed; if long, it'll be neatly confined.

Our clients come for the bouquet of our wines and the aromas of our dishes, not the odors of our staff, so you will use an odor-free antiperspirant; no body-spray, perfume, cologne or aftershave. Your breath will be fresh but not perfumed, not even with mint.

"C" stands for Charming. People are sensitive to how we feel about them even when we think we don't show it. When clients enter, look at them. No matter what they look like, like them, really like them. Radiate your warm feelings. With a little practice, you can do that with absolute sincerity. Until then, fake it.

If they have come in from inclement weather, feel sympathy for them. If they scowl, it's because they have problems, poor things. Your mission is to sooth and comfort them, so that they leave smiling.

You will always smile but never grin. The exception is when a client complains. Then you will show concern but not alarm. We'll get to how you deal with disgruntled clients later. It's easy, I promise you.

You will move with confidence. You belong here. You've been trained in your skills. Why wouldn't you be confident?

You will show pride in your uniform and in your craft. Stand erect. Let there be a spring in your step. As they say in the Army, "Show lots of swank." As they say in show business, "You're on!"

"U" stands for Unobtrusive.

We're in show business. You're a member of the chorus. You are essential but you never upstage the stars - our clients.

I recently read an advice column for servers - on how to get tips - my favorite topic. It advocated, when delivering the bill, squatting beside the table in order to be at eye level, or even to take a spare chair and join the clients for an intimate little chat.

I shudder!

People dine in fine restaurants for the food, but equally, for the service. They are unlikely to have servants in their daily lives, not beyond cleaners and the like. They want to be served by professionals of the same caliber as Jeeves, the quintessential but fictitious butler. They don't come to us to make buddies.

Yes, make eye-contact, but less, not more, than you do in everyday life. Never sit. Never squat. Never stand directly in front of a client. Your position is to one side, always.

Your voice should be soft but projected and with immaculate enunciation. Sound every letter that should be sounded but none that shouldn't. Clients may take this as a sign that you have a slight accent. That's fine. A touch of the exotic never hurts. I've amused numerous clients by pronouncing 'butter' as if it was spelled with two Ts and no Ds.

Mistakes are obtrusive, the opposite of what we try for.

To avoid them:

Check your station before you start your shift. Do you have everything you might possibly need? Consider any specials on the menu. If lobster, for example, is a special, be sure that you have enough lobster picks and so on.

If two dozen steak knives are usually ample but there's a T-bone on for an amazingly low price, perhaps you'll need three dozen tonight.

Never run out of utensils or condiments. Never steal from another server's station. That's an offence against St Martha, patron saint of waiters and waitresses.

Carry your trays on the tips of your spread fingers. They are much easier to control balanced like that than firmly gripped. Try it.

When you leave the kitchen with that tray, pause. Check your route to the table you are serving. If it isn't a clear path, either wait until it is or find a different route. Servers with trays get the right of way from other servers. Not from clients. Don't just check for obstructions that are already there. Be alert for clients who look like they're about to stand. Be particularly alert for children. They can be out of their seats and flinging themselves across your path in a flash.

No matter how well trained, elegant, poised and efficient, you are, life happens. Trays crash. Diners choke on chicken bones or vomit across tables. Corks stick or crumble. What do you do then?

I've always told my servers, "I See You!" That's totally different from I.C.U., right? It's the answer to any disaster that might strike. Let me explain...

I See You.

Restaurant Training was thorough. Before and after a shift, my staff called me by my first name and I called them by theirs. On the floor, however, I was always, 'Maitre' if I had to be addressed. The rule was, "Only speak to me if you absolutely have to. I'll only speak to you if I absolutely have to." It was extremely rare for me to say a word to my staff, because of, "I see you!"

Conversations between Maitres or Hostesses and their staff are like squeaky wheels - signs of a lack of oil. I disciplined myself to have my eyes on everything. I trained my staff to watch me, unobtrusively. If I looked directly at servers or buss staff, they followed my eyes.

The next thing I'd be looking at was an ashtray (back in the days of smoking) that needed emptying, or perhaps a badly aligned fork. Whatever, my unspoken command was, "Go fix it."

In case of a problem, my servers knew to stand tall and look directly and intently at me. I'd see them. Their stares meant, "Help!" I had the power to make decisions - a bottle of wine on the house, perhaps, or a subtle encouragement to a client to leave. (Some people can get obnoxiously drunk, even in the best establishments.)

If a cork refused to exit a bottle, it was up to me to solve that problem, perhaps by coercing the !W%!@%-thing, or maybe by replacing the bottle.

Whatever problems servers encountered, it was up to me to solve them.
That's why my staff were confident and serenely unobtrusive - I.C.U and "I see you!"

Further tips:

In the kitchen, never go beyond the pass-through without the Chef's permission. I've seen a Chef throw a cleaver at a busboy who forgot whose kingdom he was entering.

Never leave a wine glass in front of anyone you suspect might be under drinking age. Parents have been known to pour 'just a drop' of their wine into spare glasses for their children to sip. If you left that glass there, legally, you served a minor with alcohol.

Never leave a flambé drink at a table while it's still burning. Clients knock them over, set fire to tables and set off sprinklers. That's not good. Other clients will take sips through the flickering flames, sear their lips, gasp, inhale, and cook their lungs. That's not good, either. Dead clients leave no tips.

Know your dishes. If you aren't sure what sweetbreads are, or don't know how lapin bonne femme is prepared, find out. Ask your Maitre, or, if he's remotely human, ask your Chef. (Not when he's busy.)

Ideally, when a new dish is offered, you will be given a chance to sample it and will have it explained to you. If you aren't accorded that privilege, ask questions. Be particularly alert for dishes that might contain allergens, such as peanuts, or dishes that contain dairy products but don't seem to.

Learn first aid and the Heimlich. Clients whose lives you've saved are usually excellent tippers.