The Sydney Morning Herald logo
Advertisement

Delinquent diners leave a bad taste for restaurateurs

There's no end to the crimes and misdemeanours committed in restaurants.

Daisy Dumas

No sweat: Chef Alex Kearns at Glebe Point Diner.
No sweat: Chef Alex Kearns at Glebe Point Diner.Danielle Smith

You know the place. Two hats, feted sommelier, wine glasses with no stems and well-to-do diners pocketing the Alessi salt shakers.

But a string of accolades and those plump little hat icons do not a well-behaved restaurant clientele make. Maybe it is the fancy cutlery, the impending tip or the flowing alcohol but there are plenty of examples of the delinquent dinner guest.

Alex Kearns, of Glebe Point Diner, has seen them all. From the glass of wine that never emptied, with supplies secreted in a handbag, to the man whose escort did more than just dine at the table, the restaurateur can reel off a list as long as his a la carte menu of moments of slipped morals on the part of clientele.

<em>Illustration: Cathy Wilcox.</em>
Illustration: Cathy Wilcox.Supplied
Advertisement

He fell prey to the career crook who demanded a $140 refund for the ''embarrassing'' steaks (that he never ordered, ate or was ashamed by) and did not take kindly to the middle-aged gentleman who complained that salt and pepper was placed on the table. ''This food should be seasoned to perfection. I know this, because I watch MasterChef,'' came the deflatingly confident explanation.

Kearns, also of Neutral Bay Diner, is not alone in being targeted by criminals who pose as disgruntled customers. In Melbourne, a woman posing as ''Jessica Harris'' fooled several maitre d's on Southbank into refunding meals that she claimed caused a dangerous allergic reaction.

Jeremy Courmadias, a general manager at the Rockpool Group, recalls a spate of thefts by amateur dramatists. Old men, dressed to the nines, would have a decadent meal, totting up a small fortune. At the end of their evening, the pair would get into a heated argument, spilling into an all-out fight, complete with the obligatory storm out. No prizes for guessing that the gentlemen never returned to pay the bill.

Then there are the crimes of over-exuberance. Dinner at one rather spiffy modern Greek place took something of a bum turn for one 33-year-old man, out with his girlfriend and another couple.

''I was going through a chubbier phase,'' says our diner. Three or four women, nearby, were on a night out and perhaps a few bottles into the evening. As she walked past, one of the women lodged a lamb bone down the gentleman's ''plumber's crack''.

Advertisement

''The chick thought it was hilarious,'' he said. Our case study - and his girlfriend - did not.

''She marched up to the table, looked the woman in the eye and said 'I think you've forgotten something' and put the bone on her full plate.''

Needless to say, the lamb chop incident ruined the otherwise excellent $500 meal.

The hair in the last piece of pizza trick (full refund, please) is an old one and everyone has a tale of a surly maitre d', a chef-gone-bad urban myth (think bodily fluids).

Some have entered the history books, to wit, Wafu's Yukako Ichikawa, who helmed her Surry Hills eatery with a level of cantankerousness to rival Los Angeles' Kazunori Nozawa, who gave clientele the heave-ho for bad manners.

Advertisement

Then there are the trendy spots whose shouty customers would give the Roosters home crowd a run for their money. Some eateries in New York City have hit 90 decibels. To put that in perspective, a jet engine at 30 metres is about 140 decibels.

Carissa Teeling, of the sublimely hushed Est. restaurant, says she has one regular who prank calls the front desk from his seat in the restaurant.

''He can see me walk over and answer the phone and will make up some ridiculous request,'' she says. And one ''hilarious regular once brought in a fake cockroach just to scare me as I cleared his plates''.

For pure meanness, one Friday night at Rockpool Bar and Grill outshines all other misdemeanors.

''It was a busy Friday night, the restaurant was going crazy and a couple in their late 20s came in,'' Courmadias says. ''They ordered a couple of glasses of champagne and went straight to the main course.''

Advertisement

A few minutes later, the girl approached the manager. It was her boyfriend's birthday and, as a surprise, could she please order two 125-gram cans of caviar? After she had assured the waiter the $1200 price was no problem, she nipped to the toilet, never to return.

''That was her break-up line,'' Courmadias says. ''He was pretty devastated, on a number of levels.''

As for the calculatedly heartbreaking bill, Courmadias says, ''let's just say we came to an agreement''.

Restaurant reviews, news and the hottest openings served to your inbox.

Sign up

From our partners

Advertisement
Advertisement