Lane Cardwell

My Two Cents on Two-Tops

I am not a very picky person when I go out to eat. Overall, my expectations of what to expect have been reset by countless experiences over the years. I don't expect $50 service in $20 restaurants. I don't expect to be wowed with the food by most chains. I don't expect to get a lot for very little. I don't expect to be remembered, even though I might eat somewhere 2-3 times a month. I don't expect to be seated immediately on a Friday or Saturday night. I don't expect a great table in a busy restaurant (other than through luck). I don't expect a lot of things, and I am seldom disappointed.
 
One thing that I do expect, and it drives me crazy when it doesn't happen, is to get a decent table when one is available. I eat a lot of my meals late. On weekdays, I might eat lunch at 1:30 or 2:00, and dinner at 9:00. Eating at those times means that I am going to be the last turn at lunch, and among the last to be seated at dinner in a restaurant that closes at 10:00. It always amazes me when I am offered a two-top, for two people, when we have walked past a sea of empty four-tops along the way to the designated table. This is the time I become picky. I see no reason to spend the next hour cramped while staring at all of those unused, spacious four-tops.
 
While I was at Brinker we acquired the single Romano's Macaroni Grill in San Antonio from Phil Romano. It was filled with four-tops. Table for two? Put them at a four-top. Table for six? Pull together two four-tops. We looked at this arrangement and knew that we could help "educate" Phil  in the science of table top configurations. While at Steak and Ale we had magically created five phantom restaurants of seats by matching the table size configurations to our party size configurations. In essence, we had minimized the number of empty seats at occupied tables. Surely it was this kind of sophistication that had attracted Phil to us in the first place.
 
After the acquisition, when we were about to open the first new Macaroni Grill, we showed Phil the layout of the tables for the restaurant. A mix of twos and fours, matched to our study of the party size of our customers. A much more efficient way of seating customers than his original restaurant. We showed Phil the layout and he told us to get rid of the two-tops. We patiently explained the logic to our new partner knowing that he would see how smart he was to sell to us. "I don't like sitting at a two-top," Phil said, "and I don't think my customers are any different than me." And that settled that. Out went the two-tops (until many years later when Phil wasn't looking).
 
Many restaurant owners believe the way Phil does and don't have two-top tables. However, two-tops can play an important role in table configuration. It makes it possible, during peak periods, for everyone to get seated just a little bit quicker than if there were a lot of empty seats floating around unused at occupied tables. But during the slow times the rules should change. The reward for eating when a restaurant is slow should be getting a better table than if you were there during a busy time. Many hotels follow this approach. You are given a better view, or nicer room, later at night when there will be no more check-ins, or if the occupancy rate is low. And why not? It certainly is more likely to make a guest a repeat guest.
 
There is a certain algebra that must be followed when seating customers. Balancing the tables among servers, preparing to close a section at the end of a meal period, and keeping larger tables available for the unexpected large party. However, part of that equation should include the directive to the host/hostess staff that two-tops should be ignored for parties of one or two when entering into a slower period.
 
When I am led to a two-top late at night, in a mostly empty restaurant, I now ask the hostess, "Where would you seat your parents if they just walked in? That's where I want to sit." It clarifies the moment.
 
 

Posted by Lane Cardwell on May 30, 2008 | Comments (5)