A few weeks back, Vivian and I saw Romeo and Juliet at Burning Coal Theater. A wonderful and ingenious interpretation that required great skill, energy and understanding from the actors. After the play, we were eager to discuss our views over a fine evening meal.
Earlier that morning we had reminisced about good times at Gravy, back when our friend Ray was the bartender. His martinis were fantastic; the food was always home-cooked good. What better place to continue our discussion of such a fine, modern interpretation of Shakespeare.
We arrived around 4:30; Gravy would open at 5:00. It was a brisk cold day, but we made use of the interval to walk around downtown Raleigh. But enough was enough. My wife hates the cold; her fingers, even in the best of gloves, still go blue so we headed back; at least we could stand in the entryway to keep out of the wind.
Ten minutes before five, the tables were empty, the waiters stood ready, and the receptionist was at her desk. I motioned to her -- she courteously unlocked the door. “Could we come in just to wait, we are both very, very cold.” She asked her manager; he replied,” NO.”
Just freeze while we fiddle with the forks.
That disdainful manager snuffed out our joy of being back at Gravy. We left and had our grand discussion, fine drinks and dinner at another restaurant.
Preparing to write this blog, I checked Gravy’s website for its address and telephone number. Though hard to believe, it wasn’t there. Not on the homepage, nor on any of its tabs, including the “about” page. After reading and re-reading everything and fifteen minutes later, I finally found the “contact us” page, and there it was. Not only was common sense marketing ignored, so also was an obvious courtesy to its patrons. Why make it so hard to find the obvious?
No page mentioned any obligation or interest in their guests; the site only touted the quality of the food (and it is good, quite good in fact), the credentials of the chef, and opportunities for catering and private parties. Arrogance? More likely ignorance.
To be a guest at an Italian’s table is a deep honor, and deep pleasure. The hosts express their welcome by cooking their best dishes. Italian dining is primarily social, what is served is a reflection of the hosts’ hospitality, and a chance to honor those who are present. My Italian father-in-law, though a very busy corporate executive, spent time each week bringing people to his Sunday table; only after the inviting would his wife and he discuss what to serve. The food itself was just an expression of regard for their friends. When Italians invite you to diner, it is you they want to see; your happiness is foremost. Even a generation later, I still find this universally true.
Oh sorry, not at Gravy.
Located at 135 S. Wilmington St, Raleigh, NC. 919-896-8513.
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