Would You Like a Little Class with That?

This past Saturday, The New York Times ran a front-page story about the routine appearance of $40 entrées on American menus. We're not talking about restaurants in New York, traditionally the industry leader in excesses, but also in saner metropolitan areas. It mentioned that such prices "can be found in restaurants that are merely upscale, where diners wear jeans and tote children." Predictable quotes from outraged customers followed.

The story was thorough, although it failed to note another disturbing phenomenon: the abundance of $50-and-over entrées in Las Vegas. That, of course, is not so much a trend as it is insanity, a kind of mass hysteria that has infiltrated the dining culture there.

The Times story brought to mind a conversation I had recently with Patrick O'Connell, the chef of The Inn at Little Washington, just outside Washington, D.C. I was seated next to him at a party celebrating the 50th anniversary of Bon Appétit magazine and, as is my style, I was complaining. I mentioned the ham-fisted wine service I'd received at the restaurant Per Se in New York, where I had asked about an under-$70 Australian red and the sommelier had told me to have a $205 Australian Pinot Noir instead.

O'Connell said I was the problem, not the restaurant. He said that when I visit a luxury establishment, I should not be thinking about prices. I should place myself in the skilled hands of the staff. In essence, if the Pinot Noir was as excellent as the sommelier thought, my meal would be so greatly enhanced that the difference in price should not be a concern.

He had a point, one that also goes to the heart of rising menu prices. The essential problem is not the cost of entrées, because few of us would mind paying $40 if our entrée was accompanied by commensurate lavishness. In today's eating establishments, luxury barely exists. Ordering a $40 plate of food makes no sense if you're surrounded by slobs in T-shirts, sitting in a cramped space and drinking wine out $8 goblets. That's a waste of money.

In fact, high prices are no longer indicative of anything except the rising cost of construction, rent, and, perhaps, prime beef. Restaurants have become predictably alike. They all cost $7 million to build, dish out $40 slabs of protein, and hustle you out the door. Little about restaurants is classy—or classic—anymore.

The $40 entrée would be more than acceptable if it came with comfortable chairs, spacious tables, roomy surroundings, tolerable noise levels, thoughtful service, and maybe an amuse-bouche or two. Escalating restaurant prices aren't the problem. Our declining restaurant culture is.