The Servers – Particle Accelerators
What defines a bistro? A counter, an owner, and a chef?
Limiting the definition to this trio would be too simplistic to describe an
entire universe. A bistro comprises much more. The clientele, for example. No
clients, and the bistro is like a singer without an audience – dismally
depressing. Also missing are the waiters and waitresses. There are places where
the owner does it all, but he doesn’t look good. In fact, he’s exhausted…and
the clients eventually tire of waiting. The waiters and waitresses are the
sinews of the war, the fuel and the spark – they keep the motor running.
Without them, the bistro wouldn’t function; the clients would hotfoot it away;
and we’d all be in hot water. Waiters act as go-betweens for the chef and
owner. They bring the plates and remove them. They take care of all the details:
drying glasses; serving wine; cutting bread; filling butter dishes; checking
that the mustard pots are full; dusting the benches; removing the salt, pepper,
and bread when it’s time for dessert; bringing the steak knives; filling the
water jugs; and serving the coffee as ordered.
If a bistro is a success, it’s also due to the waitstaff
(but don’t tell that to the chef or the owner). If they are cheerful, savvy,
and happy to be where they are, then – and only then – can the clients sit back
and relax. You can’t overestimate just how important this aspect is to the
bistro experience. Gloomy, badly treated waiters are indicative of the rest of
the establishment’s state, right down to the vegetables that are badly chosen
and carelessly stocked. Look closely, and you will see a clear correlation
between the welcome you receive as you cross the threshold of a bistro and the
quality of its crème caramel. If it’s working well, you’ll see no discord in
the dance of the servers. They are there
to oil the cogs, keep the clients loyal, help them choose their food and wine,
and anticipate their needs – and whims. You’d like a pear free poire Belle
Helene? But of course. You want your French fries fried to a crisp? No problem.
They are like community police or chaplains spreading the good word. A good
waitstaff finds ways to sidestep the constraints imposed by the owner and
obtain special privileges, like extra French fries. They give a perfect theatre
performance, never overacting (as you might expect in a brasserie), but weaving
their way through the dining hall as proudly as tango dancers. They are the stars
of this urban choreography, and they know it. You shouldn’t be surprised to see
them using their wide white aprons like bullfighters to make toreador-like
passes. They usher the guests in warmly, and the audience, thrilled to be
there, almost bursts into applause.
