Tough Love for The Vanderbilt

My fiancée and I are regulars at —we’re huge fans—but lately during brunch the servers are flying too close to the sun. On more than one occasion, the waiter hasn’t written down our orders and has screwed them up.

We love this restaurant. Every time family or friends come to the neighborhood from out of town (or just Manhattan) for brunch, we bring them to The Vanderbilt. We love the food, the drinks, the coffee, the atmosphere, and how the large dining room accommodates a party of more than four with little to no wait, which few Prospect Heights or Park Slope brunch establishments can manage. We also love the great value of their brunch prix fixe.

Here’s where it gets complicated. We arrive with our party greater than 4, and more than 4 people proceed to order their choice of coffee or tea; bellini or dew drop or orange juice; french toast or smoked trout crepe or eggs vanderbilt with ham or spinach; a side of bacon or cottage fries or breakfast sausage; and don’t forget about the beignets and the person who decided to not get the prix fixe but wanted a side. (For those keeping score, that is their brunch prix fixe menu, and I did list it off the top of my head.)

There are a lot of choices here to track. You can see how this situation could cause problems when the waiter isn’t writing anything down. We’ve seen our pedestrian orders bring the best of them to their knees. It’s painful to watch.

Whoever is making this choice to not write down orders, the management or the servers themselves, ought to give in. Your demeanor, promptness, and accuracy reflect professionalism--not your attempt to show off your impressive memory. And when that attempt fails, as it too often does, you have Eggs Vanderbilt all over your face.

I call this post ‘Tough Love’ because I do love you and I won’t abandon you. Check out my headshot; you’ll see this face in your restaurant again soon. When you do, break out the writing utensils.

Thanks.