Communalism Taking Over America!

This week, the topic of communal table seating came up a few times with friends in conversations, probably because so many new places like the Bristol, Urban Belly, and the Publican have embraced it. Despite the urban restaurateur's obvious enthusiasm for it (i.e. love for a high mouths per square-foot ratio), the consensus among my incredibly unscientific poll is that at its best, it's tolerable. At its worst, it gives plenty of people a reason not to try a good restaurant.

At Pierrot last week, I was surprised when the waitress squeezed me between two men. They were both young-ish, attractive-ish, and, I'm pretty sure, European-ish. If I were single this would all be very, very good. But mostly I felt like I had just been assigned a middle seat on a plane. All three of the others near me were alone, avoiding eye contact like malaria, and had staked out their table real estate with personal detritus like sunglasses, iPods, books, and mobile devices arranged in a fan formation around their place setting. Those who had the latter were picking them up and clinging to them like life rafts, checking and re-checking for messages in a way that said, "I'm not desperate. People are absolutely dying to get a hold of me."

Time Out Chicago did a pretty good article on communal etiquette last fall. What it doesn't acknowledge is that it's pretty natural to feel awkward in the communal situation when you're dining solo. Introverts and extroverts aside, human food-sharing is a primal behavior that we've been hardwired to use for bonding to others at every stage of life - from breastfeeding to dating to power-lunching. We use food to connect with other humans to get our needs met.

And so there you are, sitting between two total strangers, reeeally hoping they don't want to bond while you have your way peaceably with a tuna salad. The graceful thing to do is, as Time Out suggests, at least acknowledge the humans around you. Time Out suggests making introductions - as in, they want me to voluntarily exchange names with the entire table. I have never once seen this done. I think a simple hello should suffice. Then, if you're not feeling up for a brisk round of networking, reading is always a good strategy to politely say, "Do not disturb." Just make sure your newspaper doesn't turn into a weapon as you turn pages. Or you could make like Oprah and pony up for a Kindle. As Amazon's CEO Jeff Bezos was super-quick to point out on Jon Stewart, it's like, totally perfect for reading with one hand.

Bah-dump-bum.

Food Pairing for BYOB Bliss

The BYOB Basics class at Just Grapes on Thursday night was enlightening and great. Naturally, it was primarily a food pairing class, with five fantastic dishes prepared by some of the city's BYOB restaurants to each try with six different wines. Delish! It was incredibly fun to experiment with the chemistry happening in my mouth. Here's what I figured out:

1. By far the most versatile of the varietals we tried was a Riesling, in this case O'Reilly's from Yakima Valley, Washington. It was light and drinkable, with a just barely a touch of fruity sweetness, decent acid, and a very clean, almost watery finish. Nice - but I wasn't gaga for it solo. It was absolutely stunning with maki from Meiji, picking up the sweetness in the unagi sauce in particular. Surprisingly, it paired almost as well with guacamole, contrasting the spiciness while complementing the acidity of the lime and tomatoes. It also worked very nicely with pad Thai, although I preferred a Gruner Veltliner slightly more.

2. It's wise to check the BYOB's menu online to pair your meal in advance. If you're unsure about pairing a tricky place, like say, Schwa, where they'll be throwing all kinds of innovative flavors at you (mmm...barnacles), you can print out the menu and take it into your favorite wine store for advice. You'll become an instant darling of the staff.

3. Saving that, it's usually fine to take a few bottles with you to the BYO so you can have some options. Please fetch a decent carrier, so you're not rolling in there all ghetto with your brown paper sacks. The market abounds. Just beware, a few places like Coast Sushi have a limit on the per head amount of alcohol you can bring in.

4. The most versatile food pairing wines are those with low tannin and good acid. Many whites naturally excel at this: most sparklers, Riesling, Albarino, Gruner Veltliner, Chenin Blanc, Sauvignon Blanc, and a lot of Chardonnay and Roses are great. Regionally, wines from Alsace and Austria often have that clean style with decent fruit to keep things interesting. For reds: Pinot Noir, Barbera, and Beaujolais are good bets. We stocked up on more of these to have on hand when BYO duty calls, and to play with pairings at home.

5. Stick with that profile especially for anything that's kick-you-in-the-arse spicy, like Mexican or authentic Thai. Tannin and high alcohol will just throw gasoline on your already en fuego situation, mi amor. More sweetness is a great idea to cool you down.

6. Don't fear the fruit. Even sushi tastes fantastic with wine that's showing some interesting fruit character.

7. More robust cuisine with earthy flavors, like a lot of Italian, Spanish, and other Latin food can obviously take bigger tannins. This where the Old World wines of my grandfather work: big, hairy, interesting reds with some Kung Fu acid. Go for it, Don Corleone.

8. If you're in a rush or just totally overwhelmed by wine performance anxiety, grab a bottle of something from the same country as your cuisine. It'll probably work.

9. A technical note: When you're playing with pairings, make sure you have some of the food in your mouth when you actually take a sip of wine. The chemistry happens when the food and wine come into direct contact. I can't think of a better place for such magic than right on my palate.

10. Don't sweat it too much. Open the bottle and enjoy.

Ash Wednesday Confession Box

I guess since it's Ash Wednesday, I'm feeling a little confessional. Either that, or too much Facebook.

1. I'm not watching Top Chef this season, even though I relish it and have developed a crush on Colicchio. (Bald men are my thing. Food is my thing. You do the math.) I guess I just needed a break from all the lust... not to mention Padma and Gail who are shifty, uncharming creatures.

2. I can't eat anything called a pastie. Forget it.

3. The worst thing I ever put in my mouth was a gritty Polish duck soup at my friend's mother's house on Easter. She invited me to break bread with her family on the high holiest of Catholic holidays, and all I can remember thinking is that that soup is what the waiters serve in hell.

4. I have consumed orange Swedish caviar from a tube and enjoyed it.

5. Usually when I see a beautiful gourmet cupcake, I wish I could just lick off all the frosting and be done with it.

6. I'm a terrible baker because I modify every recipe I get my hands on, and I'm impatient as hell.

7. The only reason I went out with my husband on our first date was because he invited me to Le Colonial. He sensed this immediately and will tell you the story in great detail.

8. I love anything invented or perfected by monks: cappuccino, Chimay, Champagne, brandy. I once ran smack into a woolly Trappist monk entering the Panera Bread on Diversey and took it as a definite sign that God was winking at me for this.

9. My mom drank a glass of wine a week when she was pregnant with me. Explains a lot.

10. I once spent a week in my 20s eating nothing but dessert and drinking wine and cocktails. It was seriously fantastic.

This is only fun if you share some now.

When Trotter and Keller Whiff It

Two friends told me recently about hugely disappointing experiences at restaurants any foodie would have looked forward to for weeks. The first case was a couple we know from Austin who were in town over Valentine's weekend. As former Chicagoans (and one once a sous chef), they couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate than at Charlie Trotter's, so they booked for the first seating that Saturday night. Their verdict? Cold food courses that shouldn't have been and terrible service. The second case was my friend Don, the owner of Just Grapes wine store, who dined at The French Laundry a few days ago with his wife. They were surprised to find it so lacking that they actually spoke to the general manager after the meal.

Most Americans have much bigger problems at the moment, but it is an enormous letdown when you've earmarked the cash - and in both of these cases, booked the flights - to make a pilgrimage to a sacred temple of gastronomy for naught. Terrible service and dumb food mistakes just shouldn't happen in some places, and if they do, they should be addressed by the management immediately...not in a lukewarm apology on the way out.

Naturally, no diner should passively sit back and watch the suckitude continue. As a waiter, I always appreciated the guests who swiftly, quietly, and respectfully told me exactly what it was that had just ticked them off so that I could correct or make up for it on the spot. You can't imagine the things I'd produce for these kind people, with the blessing of my manager.

As for the distasteful jerks, chronic complainers, and people who claim to have received 2+ bottles of corked wine? They are haters who deserve whatever circle of dining hell they land in.

Seduction 101: Tips for the Wait Staff

Tonight I went to a hot restaurant to have wine and snackies with coworkers. Overall it was lovely, but there were a few moments with our waiter when I wished I could pull him aside and whisper a few pointers. Not that I'm a know it all. It just this: I've been on both sides of the table plenty. There was a year in my life a while back when I waited tables full-time after college at a four-star place. After I got done feeling intellectually superior and above it all, I realized the experience might have some lessons to teach me. So I learned them. Even now, they're still true and serve me well:

1. Assume your guests are knowledgable out of the gate. Listen, if you talk down to your diners (or clients or whomever it is who is buying from you) right from the start you'll most often come off as a pretentious ass. Because believe it or not, most people who enter your realm really do know a thing or two about it. The rest who don't will be obvious soon enough and you can adjust to them.

2. As a guest in your care, I'm trusting you to give me a great experience. So don't let it be boring. A little charm and hedonism will go a long, long way. Make eye contact. Smile. Flirt with the ladies. Flirt with the men. Describe your favorite things. This is no place for reserve. Enjoy it.

3. When a few women sit down for drinks and snacks, don't write them off as a cheap table. You need to maximize the opportunity that's sitting right in front of you. See #2. The extent to which you embrace this truth will be reflected in the total tab and the tip. We could even be your new regulars. And wouldn't you be lucky?

Can-Do Foodie Stud of the Month: Tom Colicchio

Tom Colicchio - of head-shaving, swagger-walking, steak-searing Top Chef fame - used his formidable forearms to Heimlich a savory morsel from Joan Nathan's trachea last night, thus saving her James-Beard-award-winning life. The dramatic deed went down in DC at the Art.Food.Hope event, where foodie VIPs cavorted with government VIPs "for the children" under the graces of aspiring White House chef, Alice Waters.

That Colicchio. He gets it done.

I myself am a survivor of a prime rib incident that nearly 86'd me at 13. While my parents freaked, our dinner guest calmly got up and did the dislodging. Everyone should know how to perform it on adults and children, just in case you need to be a hero like Mr. Craft Steak.

Today in WTF

Ages ago, I spent a year waiting tables in the restaurant of a high-end club where fine dining was the norm. You see all versions of appalling when you work at any restaurant, but the eyebrows shoot up especially fast in places that have orchids in the foyer and a maitre d' who actually makes eye contact. For any diner who barks out for another Long Island iced tea with his carpaccio, you can bet your sweet cheeks there's a line of waiters shooting one another looks around the corner, as are the people at most tables within earshot. You just don't want to be that guy.

You also don't want to be the schmo taking pictures of your entire 24-course meal at Alinea for your food blog. (And I mean EVER.) After trolling through three sites today that did just that, it's clear this happens often enough in America's temple of molecular gastronomy that a discreet pat-down of guests before seating might be nice. What can I say to these dorks except that they're not only entirely missing the point of the experience, they're totally annoying the crap out of the other lovely people in the room who get it.

So now it makes perfect sense why Greg Achatz published a cookbook that's impossible to use. To get a few losers to put their iPhones away.