You recognize a posh, presumptuous restaurant from afar: the lack of details on the menu.
The other day, I was browsing a restaurant website to decide if I’d want to eat there. Their menu was just “3 or 5 or 7 courses” and the price.
After absorbing such exciting information, I have decided to eat elsewhere.
I find this attitude of not telling the possible customer what I will be eating rather annoying.
I like food.
Hence, I like knowing what I will be eating because I have moods for food, and if it’s a horseradish day, I’ll go to any length to satisfy my cravings, but if it’s a no-orange day, you bet I’ll refuse anything even resembling it.
So you see.
Just tell me what I'll eat if you want to lure me into your eatery.
Are there exceptions? Of course.
If it’s a traditional regional restaurant, you cannot tell me what is on the menu; I’ll already know.
But suppose you are opening a fancy, unconventional vegetarian (like in this case), or you name it, a restaurant that is not rooted in a clear set of agreed-upon boundaries. Rest assured, I’ll have zero interest in bringing myself to you.
Even more, if I’ve already tried the restaurant twice, I was disappointed by a mix of “oh, I have to eat THIS” and “how I wish I would be eating THAT”, whilst none was on the menu. The Chef unilaterally decided that the customers would be fed something else.
His choice, of course. His restaurant.
My decision, as a customer, is not to go there.
A subcategory of gastronomers, like myself, actually love menus. They are for me like small stories; they tell a tale about a table, they are poetry before the plate. They are a literary category, and if they are well-written, they are also informative, elegant, and can be extremely funny.
They are stories that we will tell through a narrative that establishes between your own experience as a customer and whatever narrative the Chef and his staff want to tell you.
Do you like menus as much as I do?
The only time this is acceptable is at some hole-in-the-wall Osteria where Zia Francesca cooks whatever is seasonal and traditional and they can't be bothered to print a menu. You eat what they put on the table and drink whatever Benzinesque wine is on the table and you love it.
So, where did you go instead of Arkhe?