To my surprise and delight, in spite of their venerated position, [Milk & Honey’s Service Manual] describes a Remains of the Day-level dedication to pursuing virtue through humility and service. From unobtrusively keeping the table clean, to maintaining a dry napkin under each cocktail, to minimizing the overall interruption of the customer’s experience, Petraske views his bartenders not as mixologists or Bar Chefs, but instead as craftsmen whose everyday standard should be “offhand excellence.” To that end, the service manual suggests bartenders “pass through the customer’s field of vision regularly, making yourself available to her signal, be it by eye contact or gesture.” The manual emphasizes the idea of “touch” as it relates to the experience, encompassing the height of a counter, the flick of a wrist, the tone of a voice, the weight of an especially plush napkin. All these tiny things, physical and immaterial, produce a signification of being taken care of, that makes me want to come back.
People Are Amazing: Milk & Honey’s Invisible Visibility
I’ve often said that its the excellent service, not the famed exclusivity, that makes New York’s Milk & Honey such a special bar.
