The best seat in the house? Try the kitchen

Nation's Restaurant News, May 30, 1994 by Suzanne Kapner

A prominent London businessman Federal Expressed his wine, jumped on the Concorde and arrived at his favorite restaurant, The Grill Room at the Windsor Court Hotel in New Orleans, a few hours later. Naturally, a man of his wealth and stature reserved the most sought-after seat in the house -- the kitchen table.

While the European custom of inviting friends and family into the kitchen to dine may be older than that continent's finest vineyards, its growing popularity and evolution in this country indicates a mounting interest in food and cooking.

"The people who ask to dine in the kitchen are interested in what a kitchen is all about," says Kevin Graham, the Windsor Court's executive chef.

Food historian Karen Hess says the preponderance of the custom reflects chefs' growing status as celebrities. "After all, there must be a reason why customers want to sit at a chef's personal table," she explains.

According to most chefs, the reasons are manifold. Customers feed their desire for new experiences while learning how professional kitchens are run, and chefs are able to cultivate career-long relationships. Even cooks benefit since they are able to see how patrons react to the food.

While some chefs follow the custom in its European form, as a gesture of friendship, others embrace the marketing power and extra revenue generated by these tables. Whether chefs offer complimentary fare, charge a fixed price, enclose the table or place it in the middle of the kitchen, most continue the practice for the same reason: Customers enjoy it and keep coming back.

At Charlie Trotter's in Chicago, customers book up to seven months in advance, and they pay $100 per person for a Saturday night table located between a cappuccino maker and a champagne cooler in this celebrated kitchen.

"We wanted to give our clients the opportunity to see all of what it takes to prepare cuisine of this level," chef-owner Trotter says. Rather than detract from the mystique of fine cuisine, Trotter says it adds to the aura. "You're showing them something totally amazing. I can't tell you how many chief executives who eat at this table say, 'I thought I was intense and ran a tight ship. This is a whole new ball game.'"

Trotter cautions that the practice is not right for every restaurant. It requires a spotless kitchen, a well-behaved staff and extra space. Despite the popularity of the table, Trotter says he may eliminate it in order to regain the space eaten up by the four-top.

Having guests in the back-of-the-house exposes them to the positive and negative nuances of an operation.

"Sure there are times when I wish I hadn't said 's--t' at the top of my lungs," Trotter jokes. "But people know it's not the serenity of the dining room."

At New York's Park Avenue Cafe, chef David Burke says sometimes the cooks get to know the kitchen customers too well. The table, which is enclosed by glass walls, air-conditioned and sound-proof, encourages patrons to hang loose.

Referring to one night when two couples dined at the chef's table, he recalls: "My back was to the table, and I wondered why all the cooks were staring. He turned around to find the wives flashing the kitchen staff. The husbands bribed them. There had to be $1,200 on the table."

The comfort and privacy of Park Avenue's table lends itself to business meetings as well as more risque endeavors. The $53-per-person, six-course dinner keeps customers coming back for more. Burke says patrons who have eaten in the kitchen often will book a table in the dining room.

"I get to know them, and they'll pop down to the kitchen to say hello," he says. "It's a great way to develop good relationships."

Cultivating relationships is the sole purpose of the chef's table at the Hyatt Regency on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C.

"When you sit in the kitchen, it's a good way to build friendships," says executive chef Richard Faeh. "It's like having friends over to your house. Somehow you always gather in the kitchen."

The Hyatt, which has been offering complimentary lunch as a means of thanking existing clients since 1979, gives Faeh the freedom to specialize the event.

"It's not something we sell," he adds. "Getting money for this takes some of the specialness away."

Faeh, who was influenced by the chef's tables he saw while working in the Far East, invites guests to join him in the kitchen for lunch on Fridays.

"At the Hilton Hong Kong, chefs set up tables in the dining room and invited guests for lunch," he says. "It was an honor to be invited."

While Faeh does not eat with his guests, he maintains the participatory flavor. Sometimes he invites the guests to help him prepare the luncheon, and other times he gives them gifts of herbs or flowers, which they can take home and plant.

While Michael Dellar, partner in San Francisco's One Market Restaurant, says his chef's table caters to special friends and people who love cooking, he is cognizant of the marketing power generated by the exclusive dining spot.

"It's a great way for us to show off," he says. "We look at it as a marketing tool. We can really show the customers what goes into our food." He adds that the revenue garnered from the seven extra seats is an added bonus. "Very few restaurants have as many seats as they'd like."