Early Birds: Being among the first to eat at a new restaurant has plenty of drawbacks. So what attracts people as soon as the doors have opened?
WHEN THE doors opened recently at Café Z and the Oceanaire Seafood Room, I was one of the first customers inside. Nearly alone in each dining room, I joyfully mused over the menus and watched the dishes come out of the kitchens, not minding at all that there were at least two servers and nine managers for every job. In both cases, the food was excellent. It's likely my dining experience will never be better at either restaurant than it was those nights.
I could pretend that being the first one in is my professional duty. But that would be a lie. Part of a small, slightly smarmy contingent of diners, I am addicted to being among the first to try out the newest beauty on the block. Why do we make a beeline for a new restaurant, hoping to be in our seats the moment the lights are switched on (and usually before anyone on the staff has figured out how to work the dimmers)? Do we expect a perfect meal? Seamless service? Not really. We just get off on being in the know and ahead of the curve. After all, someone has to be the "practice" patron. Why not us?
Those of us who are seduced by the idea of being first in the door - before a review appears, before the crowds - take pleasure in feeling like an insider and having a ringside seat as the restaurant finds (or struggles to find) its feet. Most of us root for the new business and don't mind terribly if there are hiccups in the service. (We're less forgiving about the food.) But here are the core questions: how long does it take for a restaurant to get its groove? And what do the first weeks of a restaurant's life indicate about its potential for long-term success?
Phoebe Damrosch, author of the recent book Service Included (William Morrow, 2007), a memoir of her experience as a server at New York's famed Per Se, thinks going to a restaurant in the early days is like watching a toddler learn to walk and talk. "You have an inkling of the person who might be in there, but it's not fully formed," she says. "You have to have a lot of patience and a sense of humor. You're part of the play. Everything will happen. They will run out of the dish you want. The computer system will fail. The chef will realize that the knives aren't where they should be, and the servers won't be able to find the clean tablecloths. But still, you learn a lot by being there at the beginning."
"It's almost a given that you are not going to get the full food or service experience that the owners intend if you come in right after the opening," says Joanne Chang, owner of Flour Bakery and co-owner of Myers+Chang. "Know that everything could change entirely by the next time you come visit - the menu, the staff, the managers, everything. On the plus side: all hands are on deck and every manager is working day and night to make sure things go as smoothly as possible. But since every manager is working day and night, and they are stressed and tired, mistakes can't always be remedied as quickly or as well as you'd like them to be." Chang advises diners to "come in during the first few days or weeks to get a sense of the restaurant and the menu, get in on the buzz, and then come back after a month or so when things have settled down to get a real sense of the service, the food, the wine."
Peter Ballarin, chef/owner of the Hungry I, is the antithesis of the new-restaurant groupie. He rarely goes to a restaurant until it's been open for three to six months. "How many bad meals do I want to eat?" he says. "I've been in the business for more than 27 years, and it takes time for a restaurant to figure out what it wants to do and how to do it. I wait until people whose taste I trust tell me they like it. And then I don't go just once; I give it a couple of chances, just like a restaurant reviewer would."
Restaurant critics are loath to share what they consider to be "intelligence" about their professional activities, but the conventional wisdom for most food reviewers is to make three anonymous visits within six weeks of opening night (or at least that's what they say). And most critics assume that restaurants are rarely flawless coming out of the gate. They may nitpick, but they try to go for the bigger picture. Personally, I don't see the pleasure in trashing a new restaurant that has promise. But Boston Phoenix critic Robert Nadeau takes a harder line on when it's fair for a diner (or a reviewer) to be judgmental. "If a restaurant is charging the consumer money for the food, then you should be able to be critical," he says. "If they want to do a soft opening, and ask the diner to suspend judgment, they should charge less money." He's got a point.
Even for those who believe a new restaurant deserves a grace period, there's still plenty to be learned about the venue's future based on how they fare during those early days. Two reviewers who spoke on the condition of anonymity concur: a restaurant that performs well in its first two months will often continue to do well. A restaurant that has a rocky start usually won't find its legs. The Beehive is a case in point. According to co-owner Darryl Settles, there have been lines out the door since opening day. That's what positive buzz can do. (Lack of buzz is doom.)
Here's the conundrum: early visits to new restaurants can disappoint the most critical among us, but when the early buzz is positive and you wait too long, you won't get in the door. One avid diner I know kept waiting for the "buzz to die down" at Toro. He's still waiting. The moral of the story? As one of the first diners in a fledging restaurant, you can be a partner in the restaurant's success. So come early, come often, and come hungry. @
[Photo by Ion Sokhos]
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