WHEN Tim Zagat dines out in New York, many of the restaurants he goes to know that he prefers his soup served in a cup and enjoys iced tea with cranberry juice in a large glass over lots of ice. Jay-Z’s fondness for white Burgundy is also no secret among the city’s headwaiters.
But what is perhaps more surprising is that when Arnie Tannen, a health care consultant in Brooklyn, sits down for his regular Friday-night dinner at Gramercy Tavern, his server always knows that he prefers a black napkin (less lint) and wants only the ends of a loaf in his breadbasket.
Those details are carefully logged in the restaurant’s computer, and Mr. Tannen suspects that the tavern has also noted his love of French fries, even though it does not serve them. For his 68th birthday in 2011, his waiter surprised him with hot fries hurried in from a nearby spot.
“You never have to say anything more than once,” Mr. Tannen said of the service.
Part of the attention paid to his preferences can be chalked up to the owner, Danny Meyer, and his well-known obsession with highly personalized hospitality. But what most customers don’t know is that hundreds of restaurants are now carefully tracking their individual tastes, tics, habits and even foibles.
Increasingly, restaurants are recording whether you are a regular, a first-timer, someone who lives close by or a friend of the owner or manager. They archive where you like to sit, when you will celebrate a special occasion and whether you prefer your butter soft or hard, Pepsi over Coca-Cola or sparkling over still water. In many cases, they can trace your past performance as a diner; how much you ordered, tipped and whether you were a “camper” who lingered at the table long after dessert.
“We will write if the person is kosher or can’t eat shellfish,” said Ed Schoenfeld, who owns RedFarm in the West Village. “And we take note of the people who sat for six and a half hours last time, so next time we are sure to give them an uncomfortable seat.”
Even a single visit can prompt the creation of a computer file that includes diners’ allergies, favorite foods and whether they are “wine whales,” likely to spend hundreds of dollars on a bottle. That’s valuable information, considering that upward of 30 percent of a restaurant’s revenue comes from alcohol. Some places even log data on potential customers so that the restaurant is prepared if the newcomer shows up.
That a waiter you have never met knows your tendency to dawdle or your love of crushed ice may strike some diners as creepy or intrusive. But restaurant managers say their main goal is to pamper the customer, to recreate the comfort of a local corner spot where everybody knows your name.
“We call it the ‘Cheers’ effect,” said Ann Shepherd, vice president for marketing at the restaurant reservation service OpenTable, referring to the Boston bar in the 1980s sitcom.
Restaurateurs are also looking after their own bottom line. In a cutthroat industry, this kind of intelligence gathering can make or break a business.
“The ability to know and read your customer is critical for staying on top, particularly at the power restaurants,” said Clark Wolf, a restaurant consultant.
Much of this information is discreetly embedded in an alphabet soup of acronyms that pops up on the computer screen when a restaurant employee checks you in, managers and employees at a number of high-end New York restaurants said in interviews. The wine whale may show up as WW. If a free appetizer lands on your table at Osteria Morini in SoHo, chances are your file says SFN — something for nothing.
The restaurant may have given you the freebie because you are a FOM (friend of the manager) or a PX, a person extraordinaire. PX used to be V.I.P., but most restaurants stopped using that label years ago because it was so widely recognized and offended non-V.I.P. customers who heard it being used. Some PX’s are also flagged NR, for never refuse.
At some restaurants, HSM is short for heavyset man; at others, LOL stands for little old lady — two types of diners who may need special seating. Customers with bad reputations are often flagged HWC, handle with care. And if there’s an 86 on your profile, chances are you will be making alternative plans for dinner. There are also some more profane acronyms, though most managers say they have been all but phased out for fear of lawsuits.
