Nightwatch: Susan Daly
Friday April 10 2009
You know what it's like. There's a button on your restaurant table and you don't know what it does. So you push it. Nothing happens, so you push it again. One of my mates suggested asking our very attentive waiter what it was for. He seemed friendly, after all -- he had popped over to our table three times in as many minutes to see if we needed anything. (You can see where this is going ... )
We were trying out a Korean restaurant on Parnell Street that had come festooned with good reports.
Soon we were settled with four Asian beers (yum), waiting for the food to come out. That's when we noticed the button. It was like a little platform, so our first clever thought was that it was a mini tabletop hob -- Koreans love their barbecues.
It was only after we fiddled with it a fourth time, and a waiter appeared as if by magic by our sides, that the penny dropped. We had been buzzing a silent call button that probably set off a giant gong in the kitchen. "Table seven needs more kimchi!" I have a previous on this kind of thing: witness my endearing habit of accidentally setting off the air steward call button when I reach for the reading light on planes. Air stewards are never amused.
But the reaction in our new favourite restaurant was entirely positive. Instead of making us feel stupid, as we richly deserved, our lovely waiter pretended we hadn't summoned him like an overworked genie and as he left the table, he said: "If you need anything at all, be sure to press that button there and I will be right with you." Without wishing to generalise -- oh, go on then -- this kind of thoughtful service is par for the Asian restaurants on Parnell Street. It's a handy stop into town for me, so I've tried quite a few.
This is in stark contrast to the popular gourmet burger joint that literally laughed in my face when I couldn't figure out where the menu was (hidden inside a book, duh!). Or the overpriced bistro-style restaurant that gave us the wrong bill three times and didn't apologise once. Or the combination of bad food and rudeness that had myself and a friend falling over each other to put on our coats and cancel coffee in a place that had required two phone calls to confirm a table. Because they are that important.
Senator David Norris once spoke about putting up a gate to the entrance to North Great George's Street. His reasoning was more to do with keeping vandalising plebs out of his 'hood. I am starting to think Dublin City Council should do something similar with nearby Parnell Street, but in an entirely different spirit: to welcome people in to a newly vibrant centre. East meets West modelled on those red celebratory gates that mark the entrance to Chinatown in London.
If it all sounds a bit gimmicky, then I apologise. But I am a sucker for novelties. When I first came to Dublin, I used to deliberately go to Eddie Rockets just to put money in the individual tabletop jukeboxes and stretch out a malt shake until my song came on. Yes, easily pleased and not a little sad.
I like it when there are strings of big, tacky fairy lights in the shape of dragons hanging over my head. They cheer me up when I'm taking myself too seriously. I like the idea of the karaoke bar on Capel Street. Drinking and singing: it's hardly an alien concept to the Irish, is it?
And blast it, I like those call buttons. Far from running our waiter ragged, we used it only to get service without the usual tricks of hand signals or trying to make eye contact with a service-person who would prefer to look through you. It's certainly more fun than setting your head on fire to get attention.
- Susan Daly
