The last three times Erin and I have eaten out we’ve ordered a cheese plate or cheese and charcuterie plate. Two of those three times the server failed to mention what the cheeses and/or meats were upon delivering the dish to our table. And one of those times, the chef was sitting at our table with us. At least he clued us in, but seriously the server couldn’t be bothered to do her job.
This has really become a huge pet peeve of mine. Generally we’re able to figure it out on our own (or make pretty educated guesses), but we shouldn’t have to do this. And I don’t mind a little back story when the plate or board is brought to the table, like: this is Ossau Iraty, a raw sheep’s milk cheese from the Basque region of France. People generally like to know: A) what their eating; B) what animal it’s from; and C) where in the world it’s produced.
One would think that in an occupation where attention to detail earns you a larger wage, you’d take the time, but alas, this is apparently too much.