New Yorkers are fed up with waiting for their reserved tables. The answer, experts say? Complain to the manager – or leave. (Getty Images/Fuse)
Pulino’s is one of many NYC hot spots where a reservation doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be seated anytime soon. (Astrid Stawiarz)
Sean Herman recently had his birthday ruined when the table he’d reserved at Boka was given away. (
)
Beauty & Essex caters to A-list clientele such as Maggie Gyllenhaal, but makes ordinary folks wait hours for a table — whether or not they have a reservation. (Christian Johnston)
Pulino’s owner Keith McNally is notorious for restaurants with big buzz — and a long wait. (Erik T. Kaiser/PMc)
Samantha Strauss and her group of four friends weren’t thrilled with their 10 o’clock Thursday night reservation at The Lion. Despite calling two weeks in advance and booking the table through a friend affiliated with the restaurant, this was the best available dinner slot. So they took it.
Strauss’ group arrived at the West Village spot together and on time. But at 10 p.m., a large group of young “Gossip Girl” types was still lingering over dessert and drinks at what was meant to be Strauss’ table.
“We did walk by their table a couple times,” says Strauss, 26, of her failed intimidation tactics.
“We complained to the manager, to one of the owners, the hostess. No one had much to say, except, ‘Sorry, you’re going to have to wait.’ ”
Strauss’ party wasn’t seated until 11:30. And despite the free round of Champagne and shrimp cocktails the group was eventually given, “by the time we had sat down, we weren’t even that hungry anymore,” says Strauss. (The Lion’s reps declined to comment.)
With a growing number of NYC restaurants accepting only cash and refusing to take bookings, dining establishments that take — in fact, recommend — reservations seem like one of the last-standing modes of culinary civility.
That is, until you arrive for dinner and your reservation appears to be meaningless.
Restaurants such as The Lion, Beauty & Essex, Pulino’s and other hot spots are enraging diners by making them wait upward of two hours (sometimes sans complimentary drinks) for a table — despite patrons booking reservations up to a month in advance.
And New Yorkers aren’t taking the snubs sitting down.
When Randy Miller, a magazine editor who lives in TriBeCa, organized her 26th-birthday dinner at Beauty & Essex a few weeks ago, she was excited to celebrate at the spot’s decadent bilevel digs. She says she reserved a table via telephone for 10 people at 9:15 p.m. on Saturday through the restaurant’s special party booker, and sent out invites.
So you can imagine Miller’s annoyance when she and her friends had to wait nearly 90 minutes to be seated. (She says they didn’t end up eating their first morsel until 11 p.m.) And because the bar was too crowded, Miller’s party was forced to linger by the hostess stand. Worst of all? They were given a buzzer — à la The Cheesecake Factory — that would vibrate when their table was ready.
“It sucks when you put so much planning into something and there’s nothing you can do,” says Miller, who adds that the restaurant did comp her table’s dessert and provide a free amuse bouche.
“It didn’t ruin my birthday, but it definitely shifted my focus.” (Beauty & Essex did not return calls for comment.)
While a reservation gets your foot in the door, it won’t always get your butt in a chair, admit restaurant insiders.
A former maitre d’ at Mario Batali’s Otto says people with reservations should expect a wait of 45 minutes to an hour on busy nights.
“I’ve had people with reservations wait two hours,” says the man, who asked not to be identified. On a busy Saturday night, when the restaurant can serve 750 dinners, he says it tries to turn over the average four-person table in about an hour.
“We might offer a round of Prosecco to people with reservations who waited 20 to 30 minutes,” the ex-maitre d’ says. “Some people appreciate it. Some are still pissed. If we did offer them a round, it was generally because they already asked for a manager.”
Who you are often affects the amount of time you’ll spend waiting. “If you’re a regular, you get treated like royalty. A tourist is more likely to wait. They’ll hold out longer than a New Yorker,” he says, adding: “If it’s a family, they’re going to be seated ahead of four college girls who are happy to wait at the wine bar.” (A spokeswoman for Otto denied this.)
Of course, there’s always the customer who refuses to wait.
“If I walk into The Standard at 10 on a Friday night for a burger and a cocktail with friends, and they tell me that there’s a two-hour wait and I can see five open tables, I’m like, ‘F – – – you!’ ” says Zachary Cohen, 30, a digital strategist who lives in Chelsea and has advised NYC restaurants on social media. His advice, if you’re told there is an hour wait for your reserved table? Leave.
“There are a thousand other options within 50 feet,” Cohen says.
“It’s up to the consumer to say, ‘Not today. Not when the city is in turmoil and people are unemployed.’ ”
But in cases like Sean Herman’s recent dinner party at Boka in the East Village, it’s not easy to relocate a party of 12 on a Saturday night.
Herman reserved a table in Boka’s “private Korean fried chicken eating room” for 8:30 p.m. He called the restaurant to let the staff know he was running 10 minutes late, but when he arrived at 8:41 with half his party (the others were on their way), he was greeted with bad news. Because the group was tardy for the party, his table was given away.
“Can you really expect 12 people to show up on time in NYC?” asks Herman, a med student who lives in The Bronx.
Still, Herman and his pals toughed it out and ended up being seated about one hour later. They were given two free fruity carafes of Soju, a distilled Korean beverage.
But the additional anxiety left a bad taste in Herman’s mouth.
“It wasn’t handled correctly. I felt like, ‘OK, they just think I’m another kid, and they don’t care what I have to say about it, because they have enough business anyway.’ ”
If you do find yourself waiting (with a reservation) for more than 20 minutes, our former Otto maitre d’ recommends asking to speak with the manager. “Don’t be mean to the host. It doesn’t help, and there’s really nothing they can do,” he advises.
Ultimately, though, many restaurants will learn the price of making good customers wait the hard way.
While the lines at places like The Lion, or its neighborhood precursor, The Waverly Inn, are often as integral to the restaurant’s image as the faux-distressed walls, how far that air of exclusivity can take an establishment is debatable.
“Hotel Griffou was fabulous for three months, and where is it now?” says Strauss, who was also forced to endure a 90-minute wait at Pulino’s recently. “I think The Lion is going to be the exact same. They try to make it an exclusive experience, but that’s why people don’t come back.”
dschuster@nypost.com