Mistake/remedy

By MARC WOLLIN

In today’s world everything is binary: it’s either great or it’s a catastrophe, and you have to let everyone know what’s what. Whether it’s a rave or a pan, it gets posted as the “ne plus ultra” of all things, or you scream bloody murder and threaten to burn the house down. Hard to imagine, but there is another way: let the responsible party know one-to-one of the situation, and offer praise or complaint. If there is an issue, get it resolved and retreat, not to corners to do battle again, but to carry on living. It may be a throwback, but it’s certainly a less confrontational way to exist. And it brings me to this story.

It starts with a restaurant in Brooklyn our son suggested as a destination for dinner, noting he had been there multiple times with good results. The atmosphere was pleasant and the service attentive. The menu was Tuscan Italian, with fresh pasta and interesting rustic dishes. We ordered some appetizers to share, selected our mains, and opened a bottle of wine.

When it came time for dessert we opted to try some of their homemade gelato. From the flavors available that night we selected two, and when the bowl came put it in the middle for all to sample. I started with the coconut stracciatella, creamy and rich with bits of coconut flecked throughout. I spun it around and dug into the lemon sage. It was tart and aromatic, but I was surprised to feel something solid. I assumed it was a piece of coconut that had crossed the line. On the second bite I realized it was much, much harder. I spit it out thinking it was a piece of plastic, and indeed it was an oblong white shape about an inch long and half an inch across. But when I flipped it over, I saw that it was a complete acrylic nail with a French tip.

Needless to say, I was not happy. 

I called a passing waiter and told him to get the manager immediately. From my tone, he realized it was not a request. A young gentleman came over. I explained to him what just happened and pointed to the puddle of gelato in front of me with its centerpiece. His face froze, as horrified as I was. He apologized profusely and echoed my remarks that it was unacceptable. He grabbed a napkin from an unoccupied table and swept up the nail. Apologizing again, he immediately said he would comp our entire meal, and offered us anything else that we might like, along with the owner’s email. He told us to take as much time as we liked, ask for anything we wanted, and left us alone.

We sat a bit more talking about it, then moved on to other topics. When it was time to leave, I headed to the bar where the manager was working. He saw me come over and quickly wrote down the email of the owner, handing it to me with another apology, along with a promise to find out why it happened.

The next day I wrote to the owner, explaining my version of the event. He quickly wrote back, saying he was equally distressed, and had been informed almost immediately. He detailed their normal process of manufacture and serving: “Our gelato is produced in a dedicated commissary kitchen by employees in full food handler’s gear (hats, aprons, gloves, closed-toed shoes, etc).” However, he noted, the best procedures can be thwarted by human error. “After talking to everyone working last night, we’ve determined that the fake nail belonged to our host at the door. Apparently, after staff meal, she went to scoop a small bowl for dessert. While she is trained as a server and runner, in her mind she was just scooping a little for herself, so she didn’t put on gloves, and didn’t notice her missing nail until later that evening. She feels absolutely terrible and wanted me to extend her sincere apologies to you for her mistake.” 

He apologized again. “Being in this business for over 24 years, I know that mistakes will always happen. It’s how we learn from them, and how we deal with them, that defines true hospitality. I’m happy that you were having a good experience until this, and equally happy our manager reacted quickly and gracefully.”

He offered us an additional gift certificate, as well as a direct line to him to arrange a reservation at any of their three restaurants if we were willing to give them another chance.

As my wife pointed out, we ate in several restaurants last week, and even with “the nail,” this was the best. Do we wish it hadn’t happened? Of course. But the whole situation can also be seen as a model of conflict resolution. We talked to each other as opposed to an audience, and not with a goal of adding points to some imaginary scorecard. The bottom line — we will go back again, and yes, order the gelato. 

Marc Wollin of Bedford enjoys trying new places for dinner. His column appears weekly via email and online on Blogspot and Substack as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.