A debate has lingered in this household for thirty years. The question is, what is more important to a restaurant experience: food, or environment? I have said all this time that Tom cares only about what is on the plate. He agrees with that, but lately noise levels in restaurants have entered his consciousness in a big way. He has always said that for me it is all about the space, and I agree with that, also up to a point.
In general, restaurant food and environment operate in the same sphere. A place like the sadly-defunct Uglesich’s would be a glaring exception to this. The food was world-class enough for superstars from the Nineties to fly in on their private jets, and then worry about being a drive-by shooting victim. Inside, raffish decor is a kind description. Tom would not hesitate to go there. I, no.
Conversely, there was a place on the north shore I went to because it was right on the bend of the Tchefuncte River. I sat on the deck and enjoyed the outdoors. In our family, this place was our barometer for bad food. But that river on a nice day was irresistible. I would have gone far more often had the food been even tolerable. I’ve often said the only reason there was ever anyone in there was that it was a good place to dock a boat, and go have a bite.
It, too, is gone. Is there a connection? Do we subconsciously demand that there be no glaring discrepancy in our dining experiences? Food should be commensurate with environment? What is the magic formula for a successful restaurant?
Why do we go to places we love and see it not as busy as we think it should be? Or wonder in amazement at places that we think shouldn’t have lines but do? Restaurateurs no doubt have these same observations as they survey the landscape.
They often claim that there are too many restaurants. Why? The situation always resolves itself. Restaurants that offer something desirable for people will do well, others no. A good restaurateur knows their customer, and gives them what they want. How else can one explain a novice restaurateur who becomes a tremendous success? They have an intuitive sense for “giving the people what they want.”
Keith Young on the north shore in Madisonville has three parking lots at his Keith Young’s Steakhouse, and two down the road at his Crabby Shack. These lots are always full. Besides being a swell guy, he buys quality ingredients, offers them at a great price, served by nice people, in a lovely atmosphere.
This is on my mind today because last night we had an interesting experience. We drove up to a place really just to pick up something. Noticing that the space we were about to use was marked for food pickup services, I parked in what was a driveway for garbage pickup, but it was 7:30pm. The manager/owner? ran out and told me not to park there. I moved the car, went in, and this scenario was then repeated twice more. After a third time we got into the car and drove away.. The place was empty, so you’d think any customer would be more welcome. Honestly, I was more disturbed by the greasy fingerprints on both front and back glass doors.
Across the lake on Metairie Road, two places come to mind that demonstrate the principle that you don’t have to have great food. Okay is really okay, so long as there is something else.
The Ruby Slipper, which took over the Cafe B spot at Labarre Rd, (and just about every place else) has a kitschy vibe that I finds offputting. The food is ordinary and the place is packed. One of my friends explained it to me this way - great place for kids. And that is a very good reason. That is also the reason its neighbor Fat Boy’s Pizza is busting out with customers. We went there one evening for dinner and sat out on the patio, which definitely needs a corral.
The place was crawling with families meeting after work or school . The consumption of food was a secondary consideration. Fat Boy’s Pizza is not good, but it is good enough to give these people a reason to convene here. And it’s good enough to pick up a gigantic slice on the go if you’re really hungry. Really hungry.
Across town, young singles convene over craft cocktails or artisan coffee. What is sold is completely different, as is the conversation, and the surroundings. The only thing that is the same is the social interaction.
Dining out, at its core, is about community.
