Table for Two, Please

Ah, New York.

You culinary goddess and purveyor of amuse for my bouche. How you tempt with your restaurants that fuse such unlikelies as Cuban and Chinese; and burn deep holes in our pockets with $14 guacamole. To be a host, hostess, waiter or waitress at one of your esteemed institutions must be a near papal honor.

And so he stands before us in classic New York restaurant host attire - black pants and a dress shirt not dressy enough to be stuffy, but not casual enough to look like he's not trying. In response to my request for a table for two, he looks around as though just on the border of perturbed, and lets out a light sigh. "Okay, please just step to the side for one moment." He appears distraught as he tries to figure out just how he is going to seat two parties of two and one party of four, when the only currently available tables are two tables for two and one table for four. Determined, he flits about, crossing the floor several times clutching menus, sometimes collecting a bread basket, other times engaging in a brief but important discussion with a waiter or waitress. He spends ten minutes doing this. He then returns to his station, and one by one, motions each party to its table - one of the three aforementioned available. And he's only the opening act.

After we sit down, we meet the real star of the show. He's dressed like a slightly more expensive version of the host, and sports rectangular glasses as well. He can't smile, nor can he engage you too much and risk appearing interested in...well, anything. He can only stand and recite the day's specials, careful not to express any allegiance towards one over the other. As he takes our orders, he owns the stage - this glorified food court in the Time Warner Center - and practically takes a bow before exiting left. But he won't be back for an encore, because he doesn't actually bring food to the tables. The layers of complexity to his job include taking the orders and passing them on to someone else to execute on the delivery. This segment will only repeat when it is time for dessert.

There are numerous players during the meal - the food deliverer of course, the water refiller, and the check collector, to name a few. And they appear at various points of intermission during the meal - in this case, a one-hour lunch. It's all very carefully orchestrated, and don't you dare doubt its significance. After all, this is why you pay $50 for two sandwiches and tip 20%.

When it's all over, you know you've been taken advantage of. But you shrug it off, noting, "Well, that cheese WAS fabulous," and, "I haven't had hot chocolate that good since I was in Spain." Never mind the fact that in Spain, it cost $1.50 for twice as much as the $5.00 cup here.

But ah - this is New York.