Nothing Like Good Customer Service

The way we were ...

I have to admit, I've been feeling like I've lost my blog mojo for the past couple of weeks - that's what a surfeit of festivity can do to you. But a thoughtful article by Taccuino Spuntino (aka Russell Norman of Polpo and Polpetto) about how complaints should be dealt with prompted me to get back into the saddle. Do read it. It's reproduced from the latest Fire and Knives food quarterly.

I was particularly intrigued by what he said about Heston Blumenthal - specifically Russell had attended an industry Q&A where Blumenthal was asked whether he thought food or service was more important in a restaurant.

'Without missing a beat, he replied, “Service. Every time.” He explained that you can mess up the food in a restaurant but still turn the situation around with gracious service, by compensating the customer, offering alternatives, bringing treats and bending over backwards to make them happy. But no matter how brilliant the food is, if you give poor, rude, forgetful, amateur or arrogant service, you will lose that customer forever. They will never come back. I have to agree.'

Now the Fat Duck is considered by many as the Holy Grail of restaurants (although Noma has arguably stolen its crown). Unsurprisingly therefore, my husband and I have tried to visit for a meal, but thus far we have been unsuccessful - and not for the reasons you might think.

The first time I got through (trying for my 30th birthday), the reservations manager laughed at my presumption that there'd be any space, and then said she recognised my name and accused me of not honouring a previous booking**.

The second time we got through (trying for my 31st birthday), we actually got a table - under my husband's name I hasten to add. I was over the moon - I told everyone and anyone that we'd taken the day off especially, as we were going to the mother-loving Fat Duck for my birthday.

Then Fate dealt us a blow as volcanic ash from Iceland meant that a work trip to the US turned into a sort of purgatory for my husband, as he became stranded out there with no idea of when he would be able to get back - a member of the UK's "temporary exiles".

Now the Fat Duck has a stringent cancellation policy which says that parties of two must:

"give at least 72 'hours' notice' [sic]. In the event this is not honoured we will charge a fee of £150 per person".

So if I didn't inform them at least three days in advance, we would forfeit £300.

I didn't know what to do - we couldn't afford to throw away £300, but there was a slim chance my husband would get back in time, and securing the booking had meant a solid hour of pressing redial, so I canvassed the people of Twitter to ask them their opinion.

Most of them told me I'd be mad to give up such a golden ticket, and offered to be my dining companion if my husband didn't make it. I considered this, but then felt it wouldn't be right if the person across the table from me wasn't my other half. This wasn't meant to be a girly lunch or a friendly catch-up - it was meant to be the meal of a lifetime with a pricetag to match.

So on the Monday before our Friday reservation, I decided to ring the Fat Duck and explain my predicament. Of course, there is only one phone number, so I spent the next two hours pressing redial despite already having a booking. Eventually I got through, explained my situation and threw myself upon their mercy.

I said to the lady, "I wouldn't ask normally, but these are fairly exceptional circumstances, so is there any chance at all you could please give me an extra day's grace before I have to cancel ie till Wednesday - my husband's trying to get on the next available flight, but I won't know if he will actually make it before then".

She said to me, "Madam, there are no exceptions. We still have to fill our tables".

I responded slightly desperately, "No, please - could you ask your manager if there's any chance at all?". She put me on mute for a few minutes and then came back to me and said, "You can have four more hours".

Four more hours was pointless, as I'd only know if my husband was going to make it if he was able to get on a flight that evening.

So I asked if they would please postpone my booking to the next available date, thinking to myself that as I already had a reservation, they wouldn't mind doing this. I was told that this was out of the question and that if I cancelled I would go to "the back of the queue" and have to rebook in the same manner - ie by ringing exactly two months in advance of the day I wished to dine.

Frustrated and saddened, I asked for some advice from a friend, who told me I ought to contact Heston Blumenthal's PR directly. I emailed her and explained the situation and asked her if there was any chance she could either extend the grace period for me or postpone our reservation, given the unusual circumstances.

She didn't reply, and so the next day, with a heavy heart and 72 hours before my birthday lunch (after another hour of redialling), I cancelled our booking - I wasn't going without my husband and I was damned if I was going to hand over so much money for nothing.

Of course, then my husband was able to get on a flight that evening and was back home with me on the Wednesday night. We went to Launceston Place instead. They fit us in at the last minute. Now that's customer service.

Heston Blumenthal's PR never replied to my email, but a friend of mine was so indignant when she saw how crestfallen I was that she wrote to the Fat Duck (on paper and everything) to explain exactly what had happened, to express her disappointment as a previous diner herself and to ask them if they might offer to book me in again. Note that I didn't put her up to this, but she did show me a copy of the letter after she sent it.

Astonishingly they didn't bother replying to her, but they did email me (she'd included my details). This was what they said:

"I hope this email finds you well and you don’t mind me contacting you.

We have recently received a letter from your friend [X] who explains that you have found our reservations policy somewhat frustrating. [X] has asked us to contact you to make a reservation for you.

Firstly, please accept our apologies for any frustration and inconvenience caused. Our telephone lines are extremely busy at times and as we are only a very small restaurant with just 14 tables, we do become fully booked quite quickly.

I’m afraid that we cannot make any exceptions to our Reservations Policy. All bookings are taken by telephone only on 01628 580333. Reservations are taken two calendar months in advance.

We feel it would be unfair to our other guests if we were to make an exception to the policy.

We hope to see you at The Fat Duck in the future."

That was me told then. Bend over backwards, Heston? More like make me feel like a shyster nuisance.

So anyway, that experience of customer service before I even got through the door has completely put me off ever going to the Fat Duck.

I know ultimately I was asking them to do me a favour and they were within their rights to say no, but there are ways of letting people down gently, and saying "no can do" in a nice way.

The whole thing left me feeling shabbier than the time my husband tried to book the Ivy for my 25th birthday and they told him that they "didn't do lunch" (which was a lie, by the way).

"...if you give poor, rude, forgetful, amateur or arrogant service, you will lose that customer forever..."

Though, I have just booked Dinner by Heston, so clearly I'm a glutton for punishment. And it was dead easy to book, you know.

If I'm lucky, maybe the maitre d' will give me a wedgie.

** Edited to add: This accusation was wrong - read the last paragraph here

12/01/2011 - Looking forward to new TV series "Service" with Michel Roux Junior and Fred Sirieix starting tonight - see further "Why is service still so bad in the UK?" (BBC News)