(This is the Tantrum, in which Dadwagon’s writers debate one question over the course of a week. For previous Tantrums, click here.)
This is, my beautiful colleagues, an ill-formed question. Mainly because of the wording–“fancy restaurant” implies a very specific dining experience: hushed, candlelit, and deeply inappropriate for a babbling, burbling baby.
But the truth is, “fancy” dining in New York isn’t limited to the leather-and-linen Le Bernardin establishments. It hasn’t been for a long time. You can have a $200 hunk of pork served to you by a waiter with a neck tattoo at Ssäm Bar. You can wash down a half-dozen Malpeque Oysters with Rose de Cuvaison in the lovely, noisy Balthazar, where the clang of Plateaux de Fruits de Mer is probably louder than your crotchfruit could ever be.
So, as with bringing your baby to a bar, it all depends on the context (a point that was ably made by commenter Candace MacDonald of Mama Undercover in a comment to Christopher’s tantrum). Bring your kid to a “fancy” restaurant? No. Bring your kid to a great restaurant? Sure, if you think the expense and potential hassle are worth it.
For my brood, confined by time and budget, a place like The Mermaid Inn, a few blocks from our house, is about as fine as we dine. We met a couple of our friends there a while back, with the kids (4 and 2 years old) in tow. It was fine. They loved the Miracle Fish. They ate well and didn’t scream. Yes, having a kid at any sitdown restaurant means waiting for them to knock a drink over, worrying if they’re gonna freak out, sizing up your nearest quick exit. But those are all manageable scenarios.
One thing that kept coming up in comments during the slag-wars over Babies in Bars was the idea that we should be taking our kids to Chuck E. Cheese’s or Applebee’s, because, you know, that’s where kids belong. That is, of course, total bullpuckey. Kids shouldn’t have to eat crap food just because they’re young. And I’m not against kid’s menus–they’ve got the right portions and lower prices–but it shouldn’t all be chicken fingers and mac ‘n’ cheese.
There is also good training in taking kids to restaurants that aren’t Shakey’s (although that “bunch of lunch” buffet sure sounds healthy). Particularly as kids get older, it’s not a bad skill to learn how to sit and behave. My brother and I were around restaurants a lot growing up (my grandmother ran one in Key West), and despite our many failings, we got good at being docile while eating out.
This led to what must have been one of my father’s great moments as a parent: In Miami in the the early 80’s, he had taken the both of us to some kind of steakhouse, I believe, something uncharacteristically upmarket. It may well have been one of those “sorry about the divorce” dinners. My brother and I were around 10 and 12 years old. We ate with our silverware. We had our small conversations; we didn’t screech, kick, claw, howl, yelp or yawp. And then, from a corner of the restaurant, having just finished his own dinner, came José Ferrer, the Puerto Rican movie star (he won an Oscar, folks, Google it). He actually went up to my father, unsolicited, and in that rich Cyrano voice of his, complimented him on how well-behaved we were. A nice moment, and not just for my father. Those were angry years, for my brother and especially for me. We would fight constantly, a running rage that occasionally involved scissors or rackets or other weapons. And this is something I can see in my own daughter: Kids don’t like being bad. We didn’t like being angry and acting out. We just couldn’t help it, and that made us miserable as well. So to have actually done well for an hour straight, and then to have Puerto Rico’s most famous son search us out to praise us: That was a beautiful thing.
A few years ago I was in San Juan, walking through the Santa Maria cemetery, and there was Ferrer’s grave (he died in the early nineties). I hadn’t know he was buried there, but I was glad to see it. I spend enough time regretting how angry I was as a kid; seeing Ferrer there was an unexpected and pleasant reminder of at least one night where my brother and I held back and did well, even at a “fancy” restaurant.
Earlier entries in this week’s Tantrum: here, here, and here.
“It may well have been one of those “sorry about the divorce” dinners.”- that’s an interesting category of dinner. Not sure if I should be upset or relieved that my dad didn’t take us on any of those.
Anyway, to the main question. I agree that context is everything and would also remark that parents of young kids are probably not taking up the prime 8:00 and on reservation slots since that would most likely conflict with the bed time ritual. We can all share the same space, if not at the same time. And non-breeders can thank us for keeping theIr favorite restaurants in business.
Bullpuckey!
If the children are well behaved then there is no reason why they cannot be taken to the finer places.
There’s a significant distinction between children, toddlers and babies. So babies, probably not. Toddlers, no. Children, maybe – depending on the kid and the parents. Good point about choosing where to spend your money vs. the enjoyment of the experience. I think we all have to share with our kids the things we love, in an age appropriate way. And dining, like traveling, is something that our kids get better at it the more they do it. (and we get better at it as parents too)
Good point, Candace. I’d actually argue that babies are the best to bring along, the smaller the better. All they need to do is drink milk and sleep, and if you’re lucky they’ll be doing the latter. Worse comes to worst, you pop a pacifier in their mouth and go back to your Pinot Noir.
That’s true, Matt. Those were the good old days….we actually celebrated my son’s 2 week birthday with a 7 course tasting menu…with wine pairings. The little bugger slept through the whole thing. However, I’ve since been convinced that we were just lucky.
Best post on this topic Nathan.
I so agree with the kids’ menu comment. I’m so sick of seeing kids’ menus at restaurants that are basically made up of crap I don’t want my kid to eat. I’ve yet to see a vegetable offered on a kids’ menu, except at the Chicago Diner here in the windy city, which is a vegetarian place with a kids’ menu (a rarity).