I’m a ceaseless observer and commentator on customer service. And, I’ve crystallized a few notions about it.

First, no business, small or large, can ignore whatsoever the strategic importance of using customer service to build and sustain brand value as well as financial performance.

Second, while customer service is – and should be – common sense, the notion of good customer service must be inculcated throughout every level and nexus of the organization’s communication culture, functional departments, and manager-employee hierarchy.

Third, while many acknowledge the strategic value and common sense roots of good customer service, most businesses misinterpret their customer service obligations by failing to sustain a consistent customer service culture over the long run.

Fourth, the customer is not always right. The expectations for common sense on both sides of the counter are equal, in fact.

I could wax and wane indefinitely about my own customer service experiences, especially at restaurants and shops, but a particular anecdote which former New York Times restaurant critic Ruth Reichl shared in her book Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise, I think, helps particularly to set the stage for the eventual theme of this particular post that is in two parts. Reichl made it a habit to visit restaurants in disguise and one of her earliest ventures was to New York City’s Le Cirque restaurant. She also visited the restaurant without disguise and she originally penned two separate reviews: one as the unknown diner in which she gave the restaurant one star and the other in which she gave the restaurant four stars. While her editors appreciated the separate reviews, they asked her to combine her observations into one review and one rating, which was the published one – just the seventh of her tenure at the Times.

Her words speak for themselves: “When I was discovered, the change was startling. Everything improved: the seating, the service, the size of the portions. We had already reached dessert, but our little plate of petit fours was whisked away to be replaced by a larger, more ostentatious one. An avalanche of sweets descended upon the table, and I was fascinated to note that the raspberries on the new desserts were three times the size of those on the old ones.”

Certainly food matters, but Reichl added: “People go for the experience of being in a great restaurant. Sometimes they get it; sometimes they don’t. It all depends on who they are.”

This is no idle assertion. Back in Ohio, I had a colleague who made good money in a very respected job but he seemed to get almost a perverse delight from dressing way down and going to stores just to see what type of customer service he would get. The problem was that he never carried out the critical other half of his sociological experiment as Reichl did. Somewhat tired of his stories, I decided to put his hypothesis to the test at an up-market clothing store. However, I did go back on another day dressed as I would had I planned to go to my office. My experience was much like Reichl’s. The salesperson was certainly warmer and more willing to show me a wider range of product lines. I felt more comfortable about spending the extra time in the store than I had during my first visit.

In Salt Lake City, I’ve often tested the proposition of a “table for one” at restaurants, particularly those at the higher end of the market in terms of price and positioning. I’ll save the embarrassment of naming the worst offenders but I will say that there are a couple I will never patronize again. And, for the record, the dining experience in Park City, in general, falls consistently short of expectations when one considers the price and branding of the establishment. The customer service paradigm needs to be expanded beyond due consideration for well-heeled tourists and celebrities (e.g. Sundance). I would recommend that the front part of the house in every Park City restaurant read the first 50 pages of Reichl’s book, which chronicles her dual experiences with Le Cirque as well as a reprint of the review.

In downtown Salt Lake City, the outlook is better. I will cite three that have provided consistently exceptional service whether I’m dining along or with a party of three, four, or more – Takashi’s, the Bambara at the Hotel Monaco, and the Metropolitan. These restaurants clearly have excelled in the dual challenge of providing outstanding food and stellar service – satisfying the third notion’s standard for a comprehensive, integrated approach to customer service. Here, the focus is on rewarding, first and foremost, a customer’s passionate desire for a truly great meal.

Not to take anything away from the customer focus, I do believe customers also have an obligation to act responsibly and to entrust their transactions to knowledgeable vendors and owners who have spent a great deal of intellectual and creative energy as well as considerable personal and financial sacrifice to create a brand of exceptional quality and value, even at a price significantly higher than what is available in other sectors of particular industries. It is not our job – as customers – to challenge or to expect vendors to make exceptions that run contrary to their core competencies or elements that define their high-quality brands.

Just a quick personal example to share: Prior to dining at an expensive, highly regarded San Francisco restaurant, I did a bit of research on the wine list which was accordingly priced for a restaurant of this type. We had decided to take our own wine selections but we wanted to be sure that our wines were not already on their list. We were prepared to pay the corkage but we certainly wanted to ensure that we could find affordable wines of a quality that matched the restaurant’s offering. With the help of a knowledgeable wine merchant and a good piece of advice to order a top-shelf cocktail at the beginning of the meal, we felt quite prepared. As we were seated, I could sense the palpable skepticism on our server’s part when he whisked away the bottles to be chilled and prepped for service. He relaxed a bit when we ordered our cocktails and seemed to relax even more when we placed our dinner order. Clearly, he understood that we were looking for a great dining experience without looking for a financial shortcut. A great dessert and a first-class after-dinner cordial capped a fabulous dinner. We reserved a bit of both wines for our server. Near the end of the meal, the sommelier came by the table to say that he was impressed with the wine we had brought – especially the white that he said he would consider adding to the restaurant’s offering. When our bill arrived, we noticed that the corkage fee ($30) for one of the bottles had been comped. We considered it a nice little surprise for having done our homework and for our desire to have a truly great dining experience in San Francisco.

Who says without a little planning you can’t have champagne tastes on a beer budget? More about taste in the next part.