Regardless of whether you’re actually shooed out the door or not, just knowing that reservation time limits are popular at many spots has created a kind of self-conscious mood among some diners. People don’t seem to know when they should (or will be asked to) leave. “I have an internalized anxiety of overstaying my welcome at any restaurant,” says associate commerce editor Megan Wahn. Suddenly, an experience can feel uncannily like a transaction. Which, of course, it is—a reality that until now has been downplayed at restaurants.
This ambient weirdness is now part of life for restaurant staff, too. Jenna Calderone, the 28-year-old reservations manager at British steakhouse Hawksmoor, in New York City, is responsible for enforcing the restaurant’s time limits, which range from 90 minutes to three hours depending on the party size. “It can be awkward,” she says. “Most guests are receptive to [time limits] but we have encountered a few instances of pushback, which is why it’s really important to choose the way you deliver this information. It’s all about being honest with folks and trying to look at the situation through their eyes.”
Despite the occasional strange interaction, time limits make Calderone’s job much easier. Planning out an evening of reservations is more straightforward when you know how long someone’s going to stay. It also means customers with reservations are less likely to be left waiting for their tables. At Hawksmoor, waitstaff know they need to take orders within the first 20 minutes of seating diners so the meal won’t feel harried. Streamlining one aspect of the experience leaves more time for restaurant staff to focus on individual needs, like answering questions about the menu.
And at the end of the time frame, if customers are “still drinking and deep in conversation, we’ll find them space at the bar so they can continue to enjoy themselves,” she says. “As a last resort, I will go to the table and gently and humbly let them know the following booking has arrived.”
Making sure diners don’t hang around too long has always been important for restaurant profitability. But in the past, moving people through a dining room relied on softer, non-verbal cues, like dropping the check and asking if there’s anything else the customer needs when they’re clearly done eating. Now, timed tables mean a direct approach is eking out the lower-key niceties of pre-pandemic times.
Senior Epicurious editor Anna Hezel prefers the new norm. “I like the transparency as an alternative to just being rushed through a meal passive-aggressively,” she says. Some people on Twitter are also sympathetic to restaurants’ plight: one user called it a “necessary evil” given the economic environment. “These poor guys are already operating at about 50%, least we can do is help them out,” wrote another.
That said, timed tables aren’t for every business. As a walk-in-only spot, there’s frequently a line snaking out the door at Birdie’s, a beloved neighborhood restaurant in Austin run by husband-and-wife team Arjav Ezekiel and Tracy Malechek-Ezekiel. Still, they’ve resisted time limits. “It wouldn’t feel hospitable to have customers wait in line for an hour and then tell them they have 90 minutes to eat,” says Malechek-Ezekiel. The pair ensure financial stability at Birdie’s in ways beyond turning tables: “Counter service with no reservations allows us to have a really lean labor model.”
Though lingering diners are rarely a problem at Birdie’s, Ezekiel has no problem nudging groups along if they need a table back. “We offer to move them to our loungy Adirondack chairs and pour them a splash of something as a thank you,” he says. In many ways, this new paradigm asks customers to take part in the success of restaurants they love. “If it’s clear what you’re getting into when you book a reservation, businesses have every right to hold people accountable to that,” says Ezekiel.
As this push-pull between customer experiences and restaurant needs wages on, it remains to be seen whether timed tables are a blip—or a permanent feature of American restaurant culture. For his part, Ezekiel predicts timed tables are only going to become more common. “Could it detract from a leisurely meal? Sure, it might,” he says. “But if a restaurant has eight tables, they don’t really have an option but to turn it.”
