FOOD FADS

Evening Star, Issue 22272, 25 February 1936, Page 7

FOOD FADS

DEALING WITH COMPLAINTS

By watching a year-old baby at meal time, we can learn much about the force of suggestion and the rudimentary workings of this powerful mechanism, says a contributor to the ‘ Manchester Guardian.’

Baby is just getting used to tile cups and bowls in which his food is now served. He takes a keen interest in the crockery and in the new tastes to which he is being gradually introduced. Suddenly he becomes bored with the milk which invariably accompanies the newer and more exciting foodstuffs that are munched and chewed. After a few reluctant gulps he refuses to take any more insipid milk, served with such regularity in the same old red mug. Mother, with the guile that comes to her aid intuitively on such occasions, empties the rejected milk into the blue-and-white cup in which soup and egg dishes have previously been served. He eyes this receptacle approvingly and drinks up all the milk out of it greedily and with renewed interest. Most of ns would deny that this baby’s behaviour has any relation at all to our adult likes and dislikes. Obviously by the time we are grown up we know when food is good and tasty and when it is not, and these, we say, are ihe only considerations that influence us. I should certainly have thought that we are at least less open to suggestion in such matters than a year-old baby if I were not familiar with the methods successfully employed by the manageress of a large restaurant, .in dealing with complaints about the food she adopts in the restaurant the, conventional attitude that the customer is always right. In the kitchens behind she works on entirely different principles based on the behaviour of the year-old baby. As a young girl when she was slaying with relatives, she noticed that her uncle was always finding fault with the food and that her aunt was often distracted in her attempts to improve on dishes which had been well prepared in the first instance. On one occasion when her uncle was grumbling about some fish which had been well cooked and served, she jumped from her place and said persuasively: “ I)o let me see to it for you. uncle. I think I know how you will like it.” She then carried the fish off to the kitchen, placed it where it would keep warm, waited a few minutes, and then put ihe same fish on to another dish and returned to the dining room. • Her uncle began to eat, his fish with relish. “ Thank you, Priscilla. It is delicious now.” HOT PLATES. It is hardly surprising that after training as a caterer she soon became the manageress of a restaurant and that its reputation grew rapidly under her supervision. Her technique for dealing with complaints was simple and effective. First she decided whether there really was any cause for complaint. Under the best of systems mistakes will occasionally be made in the kitchen, and these _ she remedied quickly and unhesitatingly. But in a number of complaints she knew that tlie customer was wrong, that he had had a had morning ot the office or that she had failed to find that chic little hat for which slie had been searching. “ They can get rid of their irritation if they like,” she announced, “by grumbling about the food; but why should my good food lie wasted?” _ And so when someone complained that her meat and vegetables were cold and that she liked her food piping hot, the manageress apologised with unfailing courtesy. “ I quite understand,” she agreed as she removed the plate of untouched food. “ Even well-cooked food is unpalatable unless it is served hot. I will see to your order myself.” She did. She knew that the food was still hot,, but the rim of the plate was cool and had given the impression that the food was similarly cold. “ Give me a piping hot plate, Hilda,” she ordered the kitelienmaicl. She placed the same meat and vegetables on the hot plate and returned to the customer. “ I see that you understand what is meant by a hot meal,” the customer conceded as she began to eat. On another occasion she was sent for by an irate old gentleman.' “ This beer that I’ve just ordered tastes of fish,” he expostulated. “ I am very sorry, sir,” she said. “ Let me bring you some myself.” She knew that the beer had been freshly drawn, and she noticed that the man was eating filleted plaice at the very moment that lie was complaining of a taste of fish in his beer. But she made no comment. She went behind the bar, emptied his beer into a different tankard, flicked some fresh foam on to the top, and returned. “ I hope this will be to your liking.” she said as she set the same beer down carefully before him. He surveyed tlie new tankard with satisfaction and took a long draught. “ This is very much better,” he agreed cordially.