At a restaurant where I was consulting last year, I asked the waitstaff, one by one, to name the best restaurant meal they ever had.

Margaret:  Umm.  Umm.  Sorry chef, I have nothing for ya.

Don:  Uh, let me think.  Uh.  Can’t come up with anything.

Joey:  I don’t eat out much, sorry.

Billy:  None stand out Chef.

Ryan:  It was in Charleston, South Carolina.

Me:  Great.  What did you have?

Ryan:  I don’t remember, but I know I liked it.

Me:  OK, interesting.  What was it called?

Ryan:  I don’t remember the name.

Me:  Let me get this straight.  The best meal you’ve ever eaten in your life was at a restaurant whose name you don’t remember and you have no idea what you ate?

Ryan:  Yes Chef.

Hard as it is to believe, only one of the 15 or so waiters had eaten a meal so memorable that they could recall it.  That server had eaten with her parents at the French Laundry.  Not too shabby.

Now it gets really bad.  I challenged the chef of this restaurant’s other location to name a great restaurant in Richmond.  His reply (in front of the mortified owner) was “I like Applebee’s.”  Five for five, Baby.