One of my first restaurant jobs was in the café of a nightclub, where I cut my teeth holding down the day shift, during which I could sometimes count on one hand the number of customers who would walk in. I was in my early 20s, pretending to know more than I did about bartending. So, I did everything I could to follow the rules, when a group of four Japanese tourists walked in. They ordered at the bar, and as I put the cocktails up in the well, I noticed that instead of waiting for their drinks, they had sat themselves across the room. Being the only person on the floor at the moment, I struggled between walking the tray over to their table, and staying behind the bar, where I had been told I was not supposed to leave. As the beverages began melting, I began sweating with ambivalence, when one of the men caught my eye. Seeing my hesitation to leave my post, he uttered some words in Japanese which I can only assume to be a combination of chastising and disbelief, as he stood up and walked over to collect his drinks. I immediately knew I had chosen poorly and felt terribly ashamed, yet it wasn’t until I traveled to Japan that I truly understood why my actions, or lack thereof, had disappointed him.
Wandering the streets of Tokyo years later, my friend and I found ourselves lost, and asked a waiter standing in a restaurant doorway if he could point us in the direction of a certain wine bar. Rather than just give us directions, he left his own restaurant and walked us to the bar in question. After dining at another yakiniku eatery on a different night, the owner himself walked us to the train station to ensure we would not miss the last train of the evening. Once back home, I attended a seminar on Japanese culture during which it was explained that in Japanese-style service, one must express remorse visibly on one’s face in order show contrition if one is at fault. I reflected back to the day in the café, on how I had tried to hide my shame with stoicism and was suddenly embarrassed by my ignorance of my own culture.
The warmth and generosity of spirit embodied by the Japanese astounded me in a way I’d never felt before, and I’d grown up in Hawaii, the Aloha State! It shed new light on the importance of outstanding service for me, even over that of delicious food. In an age of celebrity chefs and master mixologists, the exclusivity of fame and the esoteric nature of the craft is often a prize more highly sought after by some, than the hospitality after which our industry was named. But whereas people may give a place with mediocre food a second chance, they will rarely return to an establishment in which they felt alienated or unappreciated.
In Tokyo, there is a pop-up restaurant which flips this concept of hospitality on its head. In the Restaurant of Mistaken Orders, there is a 37% chance they will get your order wrong, or your server may drink your water before delivering it to your table. If you’re lucky, they may even forget they are serving you altogether, and instead, sit down beside you, for all the waitstaff here have dementia. The Restaurant of Mistaken Orders was the brainchild of Shiro Oguni, who founded it as a way to raise awareness for those with dementia, with the hopes of showing that their lives can still be lived fully and delightfully, through the unconditional acceptance of others. Here, despite 37% of the orders being wrong, customers report a 99% satisfaction rate because of the happiness they are allowed to create and share with those serving them, who are allowed to laugh at their own mistakes instead of being ridiculed for them. After all, how much does getting your order correct really matter in relation to the chance to make someone feel seen? Guests reserve seats here knowing the staff has dementia, and through familiar humor and compassion exemplify the age-old Japanese philosophy of “wabi-sabi.” By embracing the beauty and uniqueness of their imperfections, it is the guest who creates a welcoming atmosphere for the staff, providing them with a place where they can belong, and continue to bring joy and cheer to others in their golden years.
Some of the most brilliant discoveries were, in fact, born of mistakes. Enter the Negroni Sbagliato. Recently made famous by social media spoofs, the Sbagliato, which means “mistaken” or “false” in Italian, was accidentally created when a bartender was building a Negroni, and grabbed a bottle of prosecco instead of gin. Today, it is a delicious and low alcohol-by-volume way to sip into the fall and holiday season!
Sbagliato with prosecco
1.5 ounces Martini & Rossi Vermouth Riserva Speciale Rubino
1.5 ounces Campari
2.0 ounces Martini & Rossi prosecco
Directions: Stir Martini & Rossi Vermouth Riserva Speciale Rubino & Campari over ice to chill. Add Martini & Rossi prosecco, and strain over fresh ice into rocks glass. Garnish with orange peel, expressed over top of cocktail.
Alicia Yamachika is a bartender and craft mixologist, who currently is the key account manager at Southern Glazer’s Wine & Spirits on Oahu. Follow her on Instagram (@alicia_ yamachika). Her column will appear every second Wednesday in Crave.
