I've been in Houston this week, and actually, I just earned a Certificate in Strategic Foresight from the University of Houston's prestigious Futures Studies program. Much more to come on that topic; today's post is about Irma's.
One day during the week, several of us headed over to Irma's Southwest Grill for lunch. As we pulled off heavy coats, gloves, and scarves, arranging them on the mobile, table-side coat racks the waiter provided (a great idea, by the way!), we nestled into our seats and prepared for what we anticipated would be a normal experience at a restaurant new to us.
The waiter took our beverage order – standard operating procedure – and when he returned, he asked if we wanted to start off with guacamole or queso fundido. "No, thanks," we four said, nodding in consensus. Next he asked what we'd like to eat.
"May we please have menus?" someone in our group requested. How could we place an order when we hadn't seen the menu?
"We don't have menus," our waiter responded. Then, quite casually, he told us about the kinds of things they serve – fajitas, shrimp tacos, salad with various meats or blackened salmon, grilled fish dishes. No details. Not a wide range of menu items. Just a solid, core list of Tex-Mex choices.
On overload from a morning's worth of dense class material on very new topic areas, I had zero bandwidth to comprehend an oral menu. I needed to read it, imagine all the dishes, and consider what I'd like to taste. I was getting mildly agitated with this no-menu thing.
"You're a visual learner," life coach Melina Vratny in our group pointed out.
I quickly chose the shrimp tacos, mostly to avoid thinking any further about the menu and my agitation. Such a minor detail, I thought; why am I so put off by this?
Our lunch was delicious, and the service was extremely attentive and generous, without being at all obsequious. In fact, we enjoyed it so much that I returned today with a colleague, museum specialist Lisa Eriksen. And today, I got it.
Taking away the menu removes a barrier between the server and the customer. We must have a conversation so that our server can find out what we're in the mood for, what we're hungry for, and then the restaurant can deliver.
Throughout the meal, a very friendly lady, who takes extreme pride and passion for her restaurant, stopped by our table to check on us and chat about our selections. Again, not obsequious, not intrusive, just friendly. Surprisingly, she's not Irma; rather she's Irma's daughter-in-law, Trish Galvan. I'd say Irma's pretty lucky to have so dedicated a family member operating this location as if it were her own.
Trish confirmed my theory on the no-menu policy. They aim to serve what people are hungry for and are happy to customize your order. By offering only a few dishes, allowing for customization, and providing friendly, human-centric service, Irma's delivers an exceptional dining experience.
Think about your corporate sponsorship delivery experience. Have you ditched your menus? Do you talk to your clients and prospects? Does your organization deliver friendly, customer-centric service? Do you have an orientation of learning what your sponsors are hungry for?
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