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The Waiter Who Assumed I Didn’t Want My Leftovers

Reality check, please: Should he have asked first?

I was enjoying dinner with an old friend at a high-end spot last night—and by “enjoying” I mean “jawing incessantly”—so to be fair, I don’t know how our terrific waiter slipped in long enough to take our order.

I only finished half of my gnocchi, but had designs on taking the rest home for the next day. (I understand that some disapprove of requesting doggie bags in high-end places, thinking that it’s tacky and makes the diner look cheap. Me, I disapprove of waste and inflated portions, and think that caring so much what onlookers think is tacky and cheap. Maybe that’s just me.)

At some point while we were yammering—my gnocchi disappeared. Our waiter rightly assumed I was finished; I had set the plate slightly off to the side. Was he wrong to assume I didn’t want it?

In his defense, he would have had to interrupt a ridiculously lively conversation to ask. Many waiters are coached—rightly, I’d argue—that interruptions at table should only be a last resort. Is inquiring about the fate of a half-eaten plate of gnocchi a worthy intrusion?

Or is taking the plate away a waiter’s default position; a doggie-bag request the diner’s proactive responsibility?

I genuinely want your input. Actually what I really want is the rest of my gnocchi.











Kathryn Robinson
Kathryn Robinson
Senior Writer Seattle native Kathryn Robinson, award-winning restaurant critic and senior writer at Seattle Met, has been anonymously reviewing restaurants for over 30 years—first as editor of the Best Places guidebook series, then as staff critic at Seattle Weekly and contributing critic at The Seattle Times and Seattle magazine.  Midcareer she spent a year-long sabbatical studying comparative religion as a Knight Fellow at Stanford University where she had been an undergrad 10 years earlier, gaining a knowledge base she now calls upon for her monthly “Back Fence” column on our collective urban existence and the meaning it holds for our personal lives. In her off hours she is a partner and a parent—which means she has no off hours.