“…and finally we have the rack of wild boar. Sauced with a porcini mushroom demiglaze and served over vegetable risotto, it’s the best dish of the night,” I say, concluding my recitation of the specials.
“Wow,” my customer, a portly man in his late fifties, exhales. “I’ll have that!”
“An excellent choice sir. Might I suggest you have your boar cooked medium rare?”
“Oh,” the man says, looking a little concerned. “I like my pork well done.”
“Normally I’d agree with you sir,” I reply. “But wild boar’s a very lean kind of pork. If you have it well done it’ll be overcooked.”
“I really want to try it,” the man says. “But medium rare’s too rare for me.”
“How about we cook it medium rare?” I suggest. “Try it at that temperature. If you want it cooked more I can send it back.”
“Hmmm,”the man says, weighing his options. He should. It’s a $30 entrée.
“I can always cook it more sir,” I say. “I just can’t uncook it.”
“That sounds fair,” the man says. “I’ll go with your suggestion.”
“An excellent choice sir.”
A short time later the customer’s devouring the wild boar.
“How’s the temperature on the boar sir?” I ask.
“It’s perfect,” the man says, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. “I’m glad I listened to you.”
“Thank you sir,” I sigh contentedly.
My customer’s enjoying himself and another large tip’s coming my way. Believe it or not, in spite of my diatribes against sociopathic Yuppies, I really enjoy helping customers order a good meal. I am, after all, in the business of making people happy.
I’m quickly sat a new table. I get them drinks and tell them the specials. Once again I sell the wild boar.
“I want the boar well done,” my new customer, a supercilious corporate type, demands.
“Sir,” I say smiling, “Might I suggest you have the boar medium rare?”
” Well done,” the man snaps.
“Wild boar is a very lean meat,” I try to explain. “Well done will be overcooked.”
“I know what I like,” the man says waving me away.
“Might I have the kitchen prepare it medium rare sir?” I say. “Try it at that temperature. If you want it cooked more I can send it back.”
The man stares at me.
“I can always cook it more sir. I just can�t uncook….”
Under this man’s steely gaze my stock waiter phraseology sounds rather lame.
“I don’t need you to tell me how I should have my food prepared,” the man replies. “I want the boar well done.”
“Very good sir,” I say, surrendering. “Can I get you anything else?”
The man turns back to his companion – ignoring me. I’ve been dismissed. I go to the back and input the order into the POS system. Ten seconds later Armando, our chef, calls me into the kitchen.
“Well done?” Armando says, waving the ticket. “It’s gonna be like eating a shoe.”
“That’s what the guy wants,” I reply.
“Idiot,” Armando growls. “I’m cooking for idiots.”
“What can I tell ya?” I say shrugging. “The customer�s always right.”
Armando incinerates the man’s boar. I deliver it to the table. The man pronounces it inedible.
“This is terrible,” the customer says, poking the desiccated meat. “It’s like eating leather.
“You ordered the boar well done sir,” I reply.
“Well it’s no good, the man says, “I’m not paying for it.”
I could make this man fork over $30 for burnt pig – but I won’t. It’d just be a soul eroding process.
“Very well sir,” I say, picking up the plate. “Can I get you something else?”
“Just get me Spaghetti Bolognese,” the man barks. “And make sure it’s al dente.”
“Of course sir.”. I bring the rejected entrée into the kitchen. Having wild boar sent back is an expensive hit to the Bistro’s bottom line.
“Goddammit!” Armando yells when he sees the plate. “You see! I�m cooking for idiots!”
The kitchen guys look at the plate and shake their heads. Ordering $30 entrées is usually beyond their budget. It’s usually beyond mine too.
“Anyone want some?” I ask.
It’s overcooked but the guy only took two bites. The guys take a pass. No one wants overcooked meat. I look at the rack of boar sadly. It was once part a living thing. It had a mother. It breathed, ate, and felt. Now it’s trash. Its flesh could have fed someone else. But it won’t. Food should never be wasted – even by people who can afford to throw it away. It’s just disrespectful to life in general. Cursing I throw the wild boar into the garbage.
It died in vain.
Fucking yuppie scum.
That’s what my parents always said: An animal had to die for the meat. It should at least be cooked well and eaten with appreciation…
With something like that, i’m surprised you don’t just cook it medium rare to begin with no matter what the customer says. The worst that could happen is he sends it back for more cooking, but at least there would be a chance he’d eat it (and pay for it).
I agree with Jevia.
But I’m kind of surprised that no one in the kitchen wanted it out just to pick at it over the course of the workday.
Meme, if you’ve ever had food overcooked like that you’d know it starts out inedible and gets rapidly worse as it ages. Unless you’re starving you’d not touch it.
A waste like that is horrible, and should be avoided. It’s not just disrespectful to the animal, but the cook, the waiter, the delivery man, and everyone else involved with it.
I understand if you eat meat well done for health reasons but to prefer it that way?
The reason so many think pork is so dry is because they cook it like its chicken. You can, and should, eat pork medium. Medium well? Okay, I can live with that. But well done? Do I look like a shoemaker to you?
Worse is when its a thick cut of meat that takes forever. Rack of lamb well done can take damn near an hour if you don’t push it.
Fillets are nearly as bad if you don’t butterfly it.
I don’t get it.
I agree with Jevia 100%; it’s exactly what I was thinking as I read the post.
I’m not a pork eater, but when ever I have a steak it’s always well done because I do like it that way. Though had I been there I would have tried what the waiter suggested…I don’t understand why people wouldn’t try to take the advice of someone who’s serving this food every day?
I agree with Jevia, too. I’d say cook it medium, the guy would probably not even realize the difference. Most of the time people don’t know what’s best for them.
Why not just refuse to cook it that way? If you’re not going to hold the customer responsible for a stupid choice, then why offer it?
Seriously, that’s bullshit. He shouldn’t be allowed to make a stupid choice and then not have to pay for it. That’s not how life works for the rest of us.
I’ve been to steakhouses where I’ve heard them refuse to cook certain cuts of meat beyond medium-well.
hey, Jevia has a good point.
i cant belive the bs you let these customers get away with. you are just spoiling them by giving way to their whims. assholes.
i’m starting to think whoever created the phrase “the customer is always right” was a pushover. or maybe the phrase is just outdated.
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