Home again, home again.
Thank God I’m an actor. If I don’t like something, I just pretend I like it. Fake happiness gets me through until the real thing comes along. Now, I’m pretending I’m happy to be back in New York. Ah! The chill in the air, the Christmas lights, the hustle and bustle of the shoppers! Who needs the rural life in Italy? Back to the bright lights and traffic!
Day one of our return, fresh from JFK, not yet unpacked, we went to Fairway on Broadway. They have a little burger and steak place upstairs and it’s been a tradition for us to have dinner there with our kids on the day we get back from Italy. It’s in the neighborhood, the steaks are okay and it’s never crowded. “Hmmm, never crowded,” said a little voice in back of my head.
A restaurant upstairs from a famous market is a great idea, or should be. All the prime meats, freshest fish, organic veg and fruit are right there at the chef’s elbow. It’s like having a constant source of inspiration. Just cook them properly, charge a reasonable price and you can produce a very satisfactory dining experience. But something has gone so seriously awry at Fairway that we’re going to change our
homecoming tradition. I’m too old to put myself through this crap any more.
Crap? What crap? Okay, how can I put this? Either Fairway has decided to carefully cultivate that famous New York deli tradition of surly, disinterested waitpersons hurling thoughtlessly-cooked food onto your semi-clean table, or they’ve just given up and devolved into the restaurant equivalent of a bag-person. Either way, it sucks.
... now with more apathy.
Jill wanted the Tuscan bean soup and a side of the sautéed spinach. That’s what she wanted. The server said, “The spinach only comes with the salmon.”
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Yeah, they just have enough for the salmon.” She turned to Jill.
“You want the salmon?”
“There is fifty pounds of fresh spinach right there,” I said, pointing to the organic produce section. An edge was creeping into my voice. “Just ask them to sauté up a little spinach and charge me for it. Believe me, they can do that. Just ask them.”
“You want the salmon?” she asked again, her contempt for us dripping off every word.
“I’ll take the salmon, honey,” said Jill.
“You don’t want the salmon.”
“It’s okay. I’m tired.”
Right. We were tired. Jet-lagged, butt-weary and bone tired. We needed to be taken care of; we needed to coddled and catered to; we needed to be loved. We needed to be in Italy.
We will never, ever force unwanted salmon on you. We (and Pam and mom-of-Pam) are in Philly eager to coddle, cater and love, and hope you’ll allow us to do so.
Wow, can I relate. Total culture shock. It will take a little bit but you will eventually find your way to some good eats that you will then share with us. There is no place like home; Italy that is! They truly care and pay attention to all the details. Spinaci? Certo. Vado subito a raccoglierli nel giardino! They’re sure to take care of each of us with ‘tanta tenerezza’ – non c’e’ nessun posto al mondo come l’Italia! Nonostante questo, ben tornati a casa.
Next time, if there is a next time (and why should there be), ask to see the manager, ask to see Mitchel, and ask for (i.e, demand) a different waiter. This one was not a keeper.
I do understand Jill’s desire not to upend your whole evening because of one miserable asshole. But oy, what a reentry.
xxxS
I hope you send their note to them, as I suspect the management might be horrified. Fairway is a neat store and I would sure like to hear their reaction to your note! EGADS!
Waitress: A chicken salad sandwich. Hold the butter, the lettuce, the mayonnaise, and a cup of coffee. Anything else?
Bobby: Yeah, now all you have to do is hold the chicken, bring me the toast, give me a check for the chicken salad sandwich, and you haven’t broken any rules.
Waitress: You want me to hold the chicken, huh?
Bobby: I want you to hold it between your knees
– Five Easy Pieces
well sounds like a boycott is in order….that’s not the way to ease yourselves back to NY reality….not worth the aggro….
finished your book btw…fabulous..I didn’t want it to end…you must write a sequel…
take care Mike.
The Broadway Fairway is a nightmare. The Fairway on the Eastside is a lot nicer! And being in Italy would be better this time of year.
I read your blog this morning and I felt so sad for you, you who have so much and have been so blessed, jetting between Italy and NY! Yet all you can do is complain about not getting what you wanted in a restaurant above a Fairway!!!! There are people who are homeless, people who are taking their families to soup kitchens for their holiday meal and you didn’t get your spinach the way you wanted…I still can’t wrap my head around that. Maybe you should have eaten at home and done spinach Your Way!
@ ronica — Thank you for your comment. Thank you for reminding us all about the homeless and the needy – especially at this time of year. Jill and I do our share to help those less fortunate as I’m sure you do.
But I write a food blog, which means that I hold forth about restaurants both good and bad, food markets both good and bad; I write about spinach that waitresses refuse to sell me and about waitresses who should learn to appreciate the art of dining. And I try to do it with a sense of humor, which wouldn’t be a bad idea for you, too. Have a good holiday.
I have enjoyed much of what you have written and appreciate the recipes you share; but something in this piece just struck a nerve with me. I read, I felt, so I shared!
You’re right about humor being an important sense; one I will try to cultivate in the new year ahead! Enjoy the bright lights and let there be peace on earth.
@ ronica – Thanks. Have a wonderful holiday.
Ah, I feel the pain of re-entry! That would be me sighing with my cart in the supermarket in Los Angeles after a return trip from Italy…nothing looks good to me. My first night back ritual is to unload my fragrant suitcase with all the cheeses and salumi I could fill it with on my last day there, and my husband and I dig in…ahhh…keeping the flavors of Italy with us…
Breathe before sharing.
In Mr. Tucker’s defense, the surly waitress was just the tip of the iceberg that hit our meal. I think that Fairway has given up on their dinner service, focusing on lunch, which is always hopping.
Let me elaborate…
There were four soups and two entrees listed on the specials board – only one of which was available (a soup). It was 7:30, not 11:00. Why bother having a specials board if only one of those items is still applicable. And right in the middle of the busiest hour? I call bullshit.
Three of us ordered the boneless rib eye. When they arrived at the table, one of the steaks was clearly a strip steak (a cut that actually cost more money, but wasn’t what we wanted). Shannon, my boyfriend, to whom the steak was delivered said NICELY “I’m sorry but this is a strip, I ordered a rib eye.” There was a hubub in the open kitchen and then another waiter came out with a raw strip steak and told us that we were all wrong and that that was the rib eye. It was clear that they had run out of rib eyes and were trying to pass the strip off as one. Now, Shannon used to be a chef at the 21 club and knows the difference between the two. He did not raise his voice, he did not cause a scene, but there was a moment when we all felt like we were being pushed in that direction.
I’m in the food service industry and can tell you that the staff at Fairway has my sympathies. It is clear that management is setting them up to fail by under-stocking and under-staffing the kitchen for dinner service.
All we wanted was a simple meal and time with our family. There is no person alive who wouldn’t have been incensed by that meal and that service. We’re not spoiled divas, just average consumers.
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