Slim Pickins: Reflections on Fisher

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

By Tyler Alford

Jackson Hole, Wyo.-I dove into a collection of M.F.K. Fisher books, last week, including How to Cook a Wolf, which was published and written amidst World War II and offers American homemakers a manual on how to enrich their family meals with vitamins, minerals and flavors in a time of turmoil and economic strife.

The passages are light-hearted and interesting and even poke fun at rationing and reusing a can of tomato soup to make a cake: something rarely thought of at the time. Fisher died well before the onset of the conflict in Iraq and the threat to the Gulf Coast seafood industry created by the oil spill. She did though, believe and profess that food and eating are something to be enjoyed and remembered, each individual bite and experience.

In the past week, I’ve experienced a few ups and downs at local restaurants. Living in a small community with a handful of high-gourmet selections and an RV load of pit-stop gut-bomb slingers can offer a multitude of experiences and tastes.
For one, Jackson can give you a wonderfully delicious meal with excellent service, but you can be put off by the touring self-proclaimed gourmand at the table next to you complaining that he ordered his entrée cooked medium-well when everyone within a three-table radius clearly heard him say medium-rare.

Then of course, there is the chance to visit a popular greasy spoon and listen to the locals complain about the tourists and why it is taking so long to get a seat. Both of these are perfectly acceptable situations and part of living and working in a town that is driven by hospitality and the service industry.

The low this week, though, took place at the Snake River Brew Pub, where I stopped late in the evening for a quick snack and a chance to catch up with some friends. Our food and drinks came quickly, and with a smile. The beer was nearly over-loaded with hops, sugar and alcohol, as usual. Sometime after we finished eating, however, I watched as a loyal fixture of ‘the Pub’ placed a flashing light on the edge of his beer mug to signal that he wanted another round. He sat quietly in the corner with a pen, drawing on coasters, causing little to no harm to any employee or patrons, and if anything, offering a degree of entertainment.

The waitress smiled, and took his empty mug to be refilled, and brought it back, bright light still blinking, By the time he had taken his first sip, one of the bartenders came from behind the bar to his table, leaned over with an extended finger to the patron’s face and loudly scolded him with expletives and chastising remarks about how he wasn’t to place said flashing light on his mug.

That would have been enough to turn my stomach, but the bartender continued to harangue the patron even after he had turned off the light and put his hands up in surrender. The bartender even looked over his shoulder to the young brunette he had been courting to make sure she was watching.

Jackson has a horrible reputation for service. Outsiders cannot comprehend the lack of attention, the uninformed tableside manner or the lack of professional appearance that runs rampant through our hospitality industry. Many locals consider it charm, and part of being a community. I dread to imagine the stories tourists told back in Middle America about the bartenders in Jackson Hole.

We take for granted the opportunity to sit down with friends and family to enjoy a meal, or even a beer. If somehow we are able to derail that simple principle through lackadaisical service or stupidly aggressive tactics of communication, then we have lost the pleasure of dining and company, which would be a true loss and drive all of us out of this town we cherish so much. JHW


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Slim Pickins: Reflections on Fisher | Planet JH News Article: Restaurants And Dining

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