With summer nearing, my thoughts turn to the Clam Bar on Montauk Highway, between Montauk and Amagansett on Long Island. It’s a popular summer spot. The outdoor atmosphere is casual, and the fried clams are delicious.
But the item on the menu that will keep me coming back again and again is a note: “It is a condition of service that children remain seated throughout their stay.”
Now, I might seem like an unlikely candidate to take up the fight for quietly seated children, what with my brood of three — ages 6, 3 and 5 months old. But it is a cause I champion fiercely.
My husband and I enjoy going out to eat, and we don’t want our kids or yours ruining it for us — or for others.
Oh, but they’re only children, I hear you protest. How do you expect them to stay in their seats and talk in a low volume for the length of a restaurant meal?
OK, it’s true: Children don’t have a lot of self-control. Yet my expectations for their behavior in restaurants remain high.
Going out to dinner or brunch is an experience. It’s not just about eating; if it were, you’d get take-out or order in. (And in fact, if you won’t control your children, that’s exactly what you should do.)
I admit it: I have certain (modest) requirements for my dining-out experience. And I know other diners do, too. That’s why there’s no crying allowed, no screaming or loud talking, no walking around, no turning around in their seats to look at other patrons.
Any behavior that would be unacceptable from a grown-up is unacceptable from my children. My kids are not perfect, believe me, but in a restaurant I insist they try to come close.
I don’t treat all public settings the same. If my baby cries on an airplane, I feel just as sorry for you as I do for myself. But don’t look to me for those goodie bags parents with babies have started passing out in the past few years. Airplanes, after all, aren’t exactly quiet spaces, and while I will try to quiet him to the best of my ability, my options are limited.
On the other hand, if my baby cries in a restaurant, I will immediately remove him until he stops. If he doesn’t stop, I will take him outside while my husband and other kids finish their meals and pay the check.
Before we had as many kids, if our daughter acted up, one of us would immediately take her outside while the other settled the bill — even if we were mid-meal. We once abandoned an amazing meal halfway through in Siena, Italy, because our daughter, then 18 months old and usually stellar in restaurants, started bawling.
Here’s our logic: We take our kids out with us as a matter of course, so we are responsible for their behavior and how it affects others.
We could choose to cut out restaurant meals, as some friends of ours have, but that wouldn’t fit with our lifestyle. So instead, we exercise discipline. When people ask if a restaurant is kid-friendly, I say that it depends on the kids — and, more importantly, on their parents.
It helps that we live in Brooklyn, where so many places try to be extra kid-friendly, and our kids are predictably excited when we patronize these places. There’s Henri on Fifth Avenue, which features board games. Brooklyn Burgers & Beer a few doors away always has paper and crayons ready to go.
Stone Park makes Mickey pancakes for brunch. And then there’s our personal favorite, Brooklyn Crab in Red Hook, a magical place that allows parents to sit around drinking beers, slurping oysters and shucking blue crabs while the kids play in the sandbox or miniature golf nearby.
OK, at Giussepina’s and Lucali’s, two pizza places with exposed pizza ovens, we bend the no-getting-up rule and, for one time during the meal, allow the kids to briefly watch their pizza being made. We’re not monsters, after all, and we do remember what it’s like to be a kid having to sit still.
But we also remember what it’s like to be a person without children just trying to enjoy a meal out. We’d never let our kids get in the way of that. Neither should anyone else.