It’s a Rao’s miracle!
November 24, 2007Friends, I have procured the unprocurable: a reservation at Rao’s! I had no say over the date, time or number of seats, but I’ll be damned if I don’t have a card in my wallet in the handwriting of the reservation guy with all of the salient details.
How did this come to pass? How will I be rubbing elbow’s with that special class of New Yorker consisting of highly connected politicos, business folk and “others” who have standing reservations at the mythic Harlem haunt?
My friend Anna Maria read somewhere that if you show up at Rao’s the week of Thanksgiving, you can maybe/possibly/perhaps with much begging, pleading and adorable smiles get a reservation for next year. On Monday, Anna Maria and I walked to the wee eastern edge of Manhattan to see if the rumor was true.
It seemed like pure folly when we headed over there, but when we asked the maitre d’ in the oversized polo shirt about booking a table, he led us to a man who sized us up and led us to a back office filled with stale air from cigarette smoke and the holy grail of the restaurant universe – the Rao’s reservation book. It was old school-big and black and leather bound. He flipped through it and asked us which month we had in mind. I said February. He said, “9:30, on a late February evening for four people” and we said, “OK.” It all happened so fast and Anna Maria and I just thanked him and backed out of the office. I guess we were in shock because in a way, it was kind of, well, easy. There wasn’t any begging to speak of. I did flash a few big smiles, but the truth is that I expected some kind of struggle to make the whole thing more satisfying—and colorful.
We squeezed in at the bar where the only red wine on offer (to us) was a Chianti. After a half hour or so it dawned on me that we had only gotten one reservation. Neither of us minded that we would be eating together but it would have been nice for each of us to have our own rezzie. So I headed back to the reservation room and asked the kind gentleman if we could have just one more reservation. I mentioned that Anna Maria had wanted it for her anniversary but he did not bite. This is how it went down.
“No,” he said. “You can’t come in here expecting to get separate reservations.”
“Yessir,” I said, “but we had never intended to get a reservation together.”
“Look,” he said, now slightly agitated, “I gave you a reservation out of the kindness of my heart. That’s it. No more.”
At this point I noticed I was bent forward with my hands on my knees. He was sitting down and I must have unconsciously tried to lower myself to his level. Weird. The guy in his gentle way was completely intimidating. I have been known, under some circumstances, to have a big and demanding mouth, but not at Rao’s. I was cowed into submission from the start.
Feeling dejected, I went back to the bar and broke the news to Anna Maria. In a way, I guess I had experienced the struggle I had longed for, only it wasn’t that satisfying.
A few minutes later Frankie Pellegrino, the legendary owner, greeted us warmly, like we were one of the special class. If only.
I frequent Raos and you are very luck to have this opportunity, once in awhile tables are auctioned for charity and a table of 4 would fetch about 5K . When you go try the schrimp,baked clams, orchetta pasta and any chicken or veal dish. Also , make sure you show your respect and tip everyone that serves you.
Also never ever be picky about when you get a reservation.
Hi NYC MAN. I definitely feel lucky to have a reservation. Thanks for the recommendations and I promise to never be picky again if I get a reservation!
[...] 28th has come and gone, which means that at long last I have dined at Rao’s. I booked a table back in November when the reservation man took pity on me and a [...]