Just before each service, several sheets of white paper are taped to the wall where the chef calls out orders. One of piece of paper is a list of all the clients for the particular service, along with the number of people dining, and the time of the reservation. But it’s the second sheet of paper that is the most interesting.

The first time you dine at this three-star Parisian restaurant, your Maitre D' not only takes your order, but makes some very discrete observations about you. This information is noted on your order and the next day entered into a database. We keep track of what you eat, what you drink, the last time you ate here, things you like, things you don’t like, if you smoke, where you like to sit, what your birthday is, and if you’re important. If you happen to be the son of the President of Columbia, we know. If you’re a good friend of THE Chef, we know that too.

This is the information that appears on the second sheet of paper and posted. I love to browse the details each time before service to see what kind of people are dining. If you usually bring your dog to dinner, we will have a special place next to your chair. If you love caviar but there’s none on the menu, we’ll make it for you. If you like your meat without sauce or your salad with vinegar only, it’s not a problem. We already know how you want your food before you’ve even ordered.

But then there are other details that are captured. They probably aren’t as important for service, but are entertaining nonetheless. Perhaps you’re a tan playboy from the French Riviera who always brings two nicely dressed "companions". Maybe you have a collection of thimbles that you’re particularly proud of. Or it could be that you’re particularly overweight and tend to wear jeans every time you eat here. I kid you not. These are the types of comments that are captured and recorded. Sometimes I find them particularly amusing, other times, just odd. I often wonder if our clients would agree with what’s being said about them. I’m not sure I’d want everyone in the restaurant where I eat to know that my purse doesn’t match my shoes or that I wear too much makeup. Are these details really relevant?

If you’re Japanese, your portions will always be smaller than normal. Evidently the Japanese eat less than other nations, or at the least the ones in our restaurant do. I’m curious if the prices then correspond with the smaller portions. One can only wonder.

Once in a while, I actually get to see the clients. Late at night after I’ve finished my shift and am taking out the last of the garbage, I see them exiting the restaurant. Some are swept away by chauffeured-driven cars, others take taxis that have been especially called for them, and others (gasp) actually walk. Normally everyone is dressed to impress, their clothing matching the price of the modern art on the restaurant walls. Men’s jackets are tailored to perfection while women show off the latest haut couture. To me, it’s like a parade – always something to look at.

One thing I do regret is not eating in the restaurant before I started. I had every intention, but time just seemed to slip away from me. I’m curious to know what service is like on the other side. Does our wait staff behave the same behind the scenes as they do in front of the customer? I’d be horrified if they did. Is it possible to hear all the yelling in the kitchen? Gee, I hope not. Would the plates taste different if I didn’t know that people who generally hate their jobs made them? Perhaps. Would I have more respect for THE Chef and all he’s accomplished? Who knows.

So if you’re planning a sojourn to Paris and plan on eating at our restaurant, beware! Don’t let it slip that you’re a recently retired lingerie model who collects Barbie dolls and turtles or it may end up taped to the wall.

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