Crazy/Dutiful

Thus, Johnny Romoglia began working a regular week. He makes sure the staff is trained and the service is correct.

He also puts out fires. Tracy Spillane, the general manager, might come up to him and say, "Johnny, table 42 isn’t very happy. Go do your thing."

His "thing" involves going first to the kitchen and bumping table 42’s order. "Although to cure one problem, I’m no doubt creating four more." Then Romoglia goes to the table, where he starts "the lavishing process." He smooths ruffled feathers, he sends out dessert, he takes things off the check, and estimates that nine-tenths of the time he’s successful. "With some people, ä nothing you do will ever appease them," he says. "I feel sorry for people like that."

Romoglia is also in charge of training the staff at all of Puck’s new fine-dining operations. When the trattoria Lupo opened in the Mandalay Bay casino in Las Vegas, he spent a month there training raw recruits in the art of fine service.

These days, Spillane and executive chef Lee Hefter won’t let Romoglia leave, so managers from other operations come work with him at Spago.

To this end, Romoglia is working on a service manual. "It’s so hard to keep it straight when I’m trying to write it," he says, and begins to swivel. "Let’s see. Take beverage orders counterclockwise, food orders clockwise. But serve everything clockwise, and from the left, except for service à la Russe, and all liquids, including soup, which are served from the right. Pick up from the right. I get dizzy just thinking about it." Romoglia thumps his head as if to clear it. "But maybe you shouldn’t mention the manual. Or they’ll remember I’m supposed to be doing it, and they’ll start asking where it is."

So what kind of training does Romo glia insist on?

Depending on how astute and adept a new waiter is, Romoglia explains, he or she will undergo about two and a half weeks of training before being assigned to a station. The training begins with a week in the kitchen, prepping alongside the chefs. This, says Romoglia, is so the waiter can see what the kitchen goes through and puts up with.

"It’s an age-old fact that waiters hate cooks and cooks hate waiters. It’s understandable — a cook slaves over hot stoves with no recognition, and the waiter gets the tips. But this is a dinosaur that needs to be buried. We are all there for one thing: the pleasure of the guest. We work together. Wolfgang and Lee won’t hear of anything else. Everyone works for the common good of the house."

After a week in the kitchen, the new hire spends a few days with the runners (who serve food and keep track of where a table is in its meal), followed by a few days as a busser (bussers serve bread, ice water, tea and coffee, they clear and "crumb," and do whatever else the waiter can’t get to).

The new hire is then assigned to a waiter, who explains the service requirements and the "SQUiRREL" computer system, which communicates orders to the kitchen. At Spago, waiters are responsible for all their own mise en place work — that is, setting tables properly for each course, making sure all the implements are there before the food arrives. Romoglia is very strict on this point: appropriate silver for each course before the course arrives. Waiters are also responsible in a social capacity. "They are like hosts in a home," says Romoglia. "They take care of requests, are available, responsible to the guests. I want them to ‘touch’ the guests as much as possible."

On the third day, the new waiter takes over one table; by the end of the week, he or she has taken over the station and the experienced waiter is watching. "Not that we’re leaving customers in a bloody heap or anything," says Romoglia. "The last few days, I watch them as much as possible, to their chagrin. I’ll just go stand at the table and listen — that’s when you see the sweat bead up on foreheads."

What is he looking for? "Consummate professionalism, ease of manner, warmth, care and caringness," Romoglia says without hesitation. "You can teach mechanics, but you can’t teach finesse." He places a high premium on a waiter’s being relaxed, unhurried, "so it all looks like glass."

A few things make his hair stand on end — or would, if he had any. The biggest offender is overt familiarity. "That, and a waiter who talks too much at a table, especially if he or she has a full station and is ignoring other customers." Romoglia frowns just contemplating the possibility. "But every house has its own shtick, and some very good waiters from other houses — mechanically good — can fall short if they’re not warm and personable enough for Spago.

"I get very excited when someone works out," he says. "When I see a waiter with promise and he fits in, I’m thrilled to death. You know, they’re all my children . . ."