No reservations and angry signs: Sydney’s worst restaurant habits

11 hours ago 2

Opinion

October 18, 2025 — 5.30am

In honour of the 2026 Herald Good Food Guide, out this week, I’d like to offer an update to my own annual publication, The Bad Food Guide, in which we take a short trip into the dark side of Sydney’s restaurants, fast-food joints and cafes.

The handwritten sign in the hamburger shop. I know it’s annoying to deal with the public, but does that one bad experience, which happened six years ago, have to be recorded via a handwritten sign, scribbled on a white chip bag, and stuck above the hotplates for all eternity? It might read: “Don’t leave the deep freeze open OR YOU WILL BE ASKED TO LEAVE”. Or “PAYMENT in 5 cent coins for orders over $20 WILL NOT BE ACCEPTABLE”. Or “DON’T tap on the glass counter with a coin AS THE GLASS WILL BREAK”. Yes, it’s entertaining to read the signs while one is waiting, and to imagine the ancient drama that caused the sign’s composition. Still, when there are 10 or 20 of these signs fluttering in one shop, it does affect the vibe.

Anya Taylor-Joy in fine dining satire The Menu.

No split bills. Oh, come on. Chef has just done an amazing job, serving six meals simultaneously, all of them excellent, hot and perfectly presented. How hard is it, by comparison, to divide a bill by six? Can I remind you that our only ambition is to pay you money?

No reservations. What? Rude! Customers these days are just meant to turn up and hope. It’s like your best friend inviting you to dinner next Saturday and saying: “We’d love to see you. We may be there. Or perhaps not. In which case, why not try the hamburger place around the corner? I should warn you, they do have a lot of angry signs written on chip bags.”

“How’s your meal?” Well, quite nice actually, but I was in the middle of my best anecdote, which my friends have only heard 10 or 20 times before. I’m worried that the conversation will move on, just when I was getting to the good bit about meeting Daryl Braithwaite.

The menu with print too small to read. Oh, sure, it looks elegant, and that elegant typeface goes so well with the candlelit ambience you’ve created. But put them together and I’ll need the Hubble Telescope. What’s wrong with Times New Roman 16-point, plus a 100-watt globe, those beloved friends of the middle-aged?

Why wouldn’t you be proud to order the Filet-O-Fish?

Service that’s too fast. Controversial, I know, but it’s possible. Occasionally, I attend an excellent south coast golf club in which the meal is often delivered before you’ve got back from the cashier. We live in a thrusting modern economy, I understand that. Tables need to be “turned over”, I agree. And I appreciate the efforts of chefs who appear to have conquered the time-space continuum. But could I grab a second beer first?

Service that is too slow. A more common problem, I realise. My go-to signal: If I’m telling my Daryl Braithwaite anecdote for the third time, and it’s the same meal, the service is too slow.

Noise. For God’s sake, install some curtains. Or carpeting. Or at least hire waiters with fluffy beards. Somehow, you need to cut down the din.

The playlist. Talking of which, could the music playlist be chosen by the staff member whose age is closest to that of the clientele, usually about 97, rather than the 17-year-old who signed on last week?

It’s a problem when the charcoal used to cook your meal is better travelled than you are.

Screen ordering at McDonald’s. It’s now almost mandatory. What’s wrong with human contact? I quite like ordering a Filet-O-Fish, as I’m pretty sure it will impress the staff member. The Filet-O-Fish is code for “I’m not a normal McDonald’s customer, I reckon I’m a bit special”. The computer screen cannot supply the ego boost I need. Also, do I want to touch this smeared glass 10 minutes before I touch the food, if “food” is the right term for the Filet-O-Fish? The guy who used the screen before me didn’t inspire a lot of confidence.

Cooking with imported fuel. To be honest, I don’t attend many expensive restaurants, but three months ago I ended up at a place where, to better cook the steaks, they imported the charcoal from Japan. The steak was delicious. But it’s a problem when the charcoal used to cook your meal is better travelled than you are.

Show-off waiters. I don’t mean carrying five plates at once, that really is impressive. I mean memorising the orders while refusing to write things down. We’re impressed you can do it, and I’m sure you are correct 83 per cent of the time, but what’s the bet we’ll be part of the 17 per cent who never get their rice?

Sweet hamburger buns. I’m not saying the whole world is going to hell, but the soft, sugar-filled, brioche-style bun? What are we? American? Next, you’ll be leaving out the beetroot.

$16-a-glass chardonnay. I’ve been to Dan Murphy’s. A whole bottle of this gut rot only costs $10.

All in all, we live in the best of all possible places, with the best of all possible food. If only they could tweak a few details.