It Can Just Get ... Weird

Dining-out myth #1: No, you don't have to tell the server if you're disappointed.

Happy Monday. Thanks for letting me squeeze through the gatekeepers of your inbox today! I know it’s a busy place.

Today, I’m addressing the issue of whether you should speak up when you’re disappointed with something at a restaurant. I know, this isn’t the type of thing you expect from me on a Monday (usually it’s food news or a review). I am working on a review I’m excited about—just giving it some more thought before I share. Stay tuned.

I Don’t Like to Complain, Either

This is the type of rhubarb pie I dream about. Truth is, I’d settle for any kind, if it’s good. Alas, it didn’t work out that way. Photo: “Dish Platter” by diwineanddine, via Flickr, used under license CC BY‑NC‑SA 2.0 .

Never take your etiquette cues from social media. One persistent myth: you must give restaurants feedback “in the moment.” You’ll see this advice everywhere—“tell your server before you leave if anything’s wrong.” As if you owe it to the restaurant to do so.

And sure, in theory, that’s ideal. If a restaurant can fix something on the spot, it might save both sides some grief.

But me? I know it’s always my choice. And I choose wisely. If I spot mold on the strawberries or something truly off, I’ll speak up—though not if I’m someone else’s guest. But if the steak is medium when I ordered rare? Or if the food is just not great overall, and there’s nothing they can really fix on the spot? I let it go. Especially when dining out with a table full of friends. Who on earth wants to bring down the vibe?

Because here’s the thing: no one I know enjoys complaining in a restaurant. We already spend enough of our lives in conflict. A restaurant should be the opposite—an oasis from conflict. Even if the food’s not perfect, it’s still a gift to sit down, relax, and have someone else take care of you for a stretch of time while you enjoy those you might not see often enough. How much of that time do you want to spend dwelling on the misfires? We go out to enjoy the best moments of being connected.

Which leads me to the other day at lunch, when a manager came by to clear the plate from an underwhelming rhubarb pie we had just eaten. She asked if we enjoyed it. I said it was fine—just enough to signal that I wasn’t angling for a refund, but also wasn’t reaching for superlatives. A seasoned pro would pick up on that and leave it be.

“Just fine?” she said.

“Yeah, it was OK.” I said, kind of hoping she’d move on, as I had been mid-conversation with my tablemate.

But then: “Do you have anything to add so I can communicate it to the kitchen?”

At that point, I thought, I’m not really here to workshop a pie, but she seems to genuinely want feedback.

“Well,” I said (in so many words). “Actually, the crust was mealy and undercooked, and the rhubarb was overly tart without the sweet-tart balance a great rhubarb pie gets just right. Some of the fruit was still a little crunchy, as if it hadn’t really been cooked long enough. And overall, it just wasn’t a great pie.”

“Oh. Thanks for the feedback,” she said.

Whew! I thought. Maybe we’re done.

But then, she added. “Oh, and by the way, you really don’t have to feel bad about telling me.”

“I don’t feel bad about telling you,” I said. “Because you asked.”

“Yes, but you seem upset about it…”

And now, I’m the problem, not the pie?

Look, I understand more than most how easy it is to say something a little off in these situations—it’s not easy to be customer-facing all the time. Still. There are reasons we don’t love complaining in restaurants. It can just get … weird. In the end, she took the pie off our bill. Frankly, I’d rather have paid the full $8 and saved myself the grief.

Of course, there are plenty of venues where servers know how to graciously take feedback. But in this current restaurant culture, you simply don’t know how it’s going to go.

So, readers, I will tell you this: You should absolutely feel justified in expressing disappointments, but equally justified in not doing so. It is entirely up to you. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

P.S.: One of these days, I’ll share how to give restaurant feedback with grace and tact—and to get reasonable results. I actually do know how to do this—despite how that last story played out. (Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting the Spanish Inquisition.)

And if you’d enjoy talking about this further, feel free to leave a note in the comments section. I’d love to discuss!

The pie wasn’t great—and unfortunately, neither was the follow-up.

Keep the News, Reviews, and Insights Coming

I try to be candid about the ups and downs of the food and dining scene. My often-nuanced approach doesn’t always thrive in the rage-and-gush cycles of social media, so I’m posting on those platforms less and less. I hope you’ll continue to join me here. Subscribe, and you’ll never miss a post.

Thanks to All Who Attended Our Guitar Circle/Musicians Fighting Hunger

What a lovely evening (especially since we moved it indoors!). We collected a substantial amount of food for our free pantry/refrigerator at Grace United Methodist Church. A heartfelt thanks for all who shared food for the pantry and a great evening with us. We hope to do another event in the autumn.

If you’d like to drop off some food for the pantry, it’s always welcome! Bring it anytime. Find the fridge and pantry in the south parking lot of the church (accessible from 38th street, between Cottage Grove and Kingman). It is next to a garage in the southeast corner of the lot. “Bring what you can. Take what you need.”

P.S.

Also remember to check out the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative when you’re looking for news and insights from professional writers across the state.