AMERICANWAY
JULY 1 2007
S H A H I N T A K E S O F F
108
ILLUSTRATIONBYAMANDADUFFY
MoodyBlues
ByJimShahin
But the obvious question is does the res-
taurant’s softwarework?
The ratings used in the restaurant’s gizmo
are as follows:
10: Euphoric
9: Pleased
8: Satisfied
7: Quiet
6: Unimpressed
5: Disappointed
4: Bitterly disappointed
3: Hostile
2:Meltdown
1: Combative
HERE’SHOW ITWORKS.
The person at the
restaurant who greets patrons sizes them
up and enters a rating into a computer. Then
the waiter takes over, entering a mood rat-
ingwith each food order, to keep things con-
stantly updated.
The idea is that the table is kept, ormade,
happy throughout the night. If a table is
judged to be slipping into the midnumbers,
the staff sends out a complimentary glass of
champagne or an extradessert or a tableside
visit by the chef to try to revive things. The
chef says the goal is that no one will leave
with a rating of less than9.
AS ITHAPPENS,
I have been to this restau-
rant, and if my rating registered above a 1,
the software shouldbe recalled.
After years ofwanting to go and a couple
of hours of driving, we had finallymade it to
this temple of gastronomy. Dinnerwould
be the price of an emergency medi-
cal procedure, but food critics and
guidebooks said every obscenely
spent penny would be worth it.
My threecompanionsand Iwere
nothing short of exhilarated.
As we entered, our mood didn’t
just go to 10. As the heavy-metal
guitarist says about his amplifier
in themockumentary
This IsSpinal
Tap
, itwent to 11.
But things got off to a wobbly
start — there was no greeter. We
stood around the foyer, making small
TO KEEP ITS PATRONS HAPPY,
one of the
fanciest restaurants in America uses soft-
ware togauge themood of its diners.
Iwant one of these gizmos.
Can you imagine having a mood determi-
nator to evaluate the relative happiness of
yourmate, boss, or teenager?
Okay, it wouldn’t be all that much help
with the teenager, as even themost complex
software, like the stuff you seeon
24
, isn’t so-
phisticated enough tomeasure thedifference
between sullen and surly.
Still, there are applications that I can eas-
ily see would have advantages around the
house. Itwould, for one thing, take themessy
guesswork out of romance. Spouse ranking
currently at “7: Excitable.” Recommendation:
Go, go, go!
Around the workplace, such software
would be invaluable. A computer evaluation
of thebossmight reveal that she is inaneven
lousier mood than she was yesterday, which
you, being a normal person, would not have
thought possible. So, now you can postpone
that proposal, the one that included that
10-day trip to Europe.
Better to delay a day
than to go forward
andriskthatblank
stare, followedby
the condescend-
ing snort, and
the dismissive
head shake.
talkwithoneanother, feelingvaguelyuncom-
fortable, until at long last someone appeared
and took us to our table.
Small matter, but Iwill allow that the no-
greeting thingmay have dropped us to a 10.
After being seated, we waited intermina-
bly for the waiter to take our order. We pol-
ished off our bread and butter and ourwater
by the time he returned.
Our ranking slipped to a9.
We told the waiter we wanted to see the
tastingmenu.
“The tasting menu?” he said, as if he had
never heard of such a thing.
“Yes, uh, the tastingmenu.”
He snapped his book shut, turned on his
heel, and, without aword, vanished.
Our rating, one can assume, dropped to8.
As we debated whether to go à la carte
or with the fixed-price tastingmenu, a ques-
tion arose.
“Is it possible to get a salad between the
appetizers and the first course?” someone at
our table asked the waiter when he finally
returned.
“The salad ismade fresh,” he replied, “and
therefore I cannot assure you when it will
come out. Perhaps it canbe servedwith your
main course.”
Ratingdown to 7.
After that, it was one calamity after an-
other. A request to modify a dish, which the
chef is renowned for doing, proved all but
impossible. They brought me the wrong en-
trée. A tablemate’s scallops were bland and
as rubbery as pencil erasers. They never did
bring a salad, even though we ordered one.
Thewaiter thenblamed the kitchen.
The rating plummeted — 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 …
meltdown.
Maybe that is why our waiter simply dis-
appeared, never tobe seen again.
I went right past “1: Combative” to the
opposite end of the heavy-metal guitarist’s
amplifier, which is to say, I went to negative
11. Iwas too speechless tofight.
Instead, I shuffledout of the restaurant in
a sort of catatonia, pausing at the front desk
tomumble out a complaint.
Amanager calledme at home, apologized
for the experience, and invited the four of us
back. The restaurant, he said, would pay for
themeal we ate and the onewe’d return for.
So, I don’t knowwhat to think of the soft-
ware. On the one hand, we had a disastrous
evening. On the other, we got two freemeals
at one of the best restaurants inAmerica.
