Authors: Unknown
Galatoire's general manager Melvin Rodrigue declined to comment on the
particulars of Eyzaguirre's dismissal. "Even if Gilberto's not with us anymore,
we have an obligation to him and the rest of our employees to keep that information confidential," he said.
Galatoire's files may be confidential, but Eyzaguirre's dismissal is hardly a
secret. And his popularity among customers is enduring. The firing is what
occasioned Holditch's letter, which was not a fan's note but an impassioned
protest. The treatise was written on May 20, 2002, a month after the firing. A
few days later, it was delivered in a bound volume along with 123 others to the
Galatoire's board.
The letters, many of which were written by prominent New Orleans
doctors, lawyers, judges, and business people, have been posted on
Pulitzer Prize-winning author Richard Ford and noted Louisiana State University historian David Culbert are among them.
"The purpose of this letter is to request that the members of the Board of
Management of Galatoire's find a means to bring Gilbert back into the fold,"
former U.S. attorney Harry Rosenberg wrote.
Many of the writers express displeasure with what the volume's opening
page calls the "peremptory firing." But to read the letters as a whole is to realize that Eyzaguirre's supporters are concerned about much more than their favorite waiter's job status. In his letter, Holditch echoes the concerns of many
when he bemoans the changes that have occurred at Galatoire's since Rodrigue became the first non-Galatoire family member to be named general manager and chief operating officer of the restaurant in 1997, at the age of twentyfive. The most seismic of those changes was the controversial renovation that
was completed in 1999. With the renovation came new dining rooms upstairs
and the opportunity to reserve tables, a first in Galatoire's nearly century-old
history.
"I felt almost the same way when they opened upstairs," Robert Barnwell, a
letter writer who first dined at Galatoire's fifty years ago, said of Eyzaguirre's
firing. "It was like when Brooks Brothers opened forty stores all over the
United States. I liked it when there was only just one."
When viewed through the prism of Galatoire's overall makeover, Holditch
writes, Eyzaguirre's firing "has made many of us `old-timers' aware of the fact
that something drastic is afoot, a renovation not only of the physical features
of the classic old Creole eatery, but a renovation of its very soul."
There's no such thing as a subtle change at Galatoire's, at least not in the eyes
of its most ardent customers. The restaurant's food is a testament to the virtues of trend resistance, and the kitchen's renderings of classic French-Creole
dishes are hard to surpass. It's tempting to imagine the best of them-trout
amandine, souffle potatoes, stuffed eggplant, shrimp remoulade, oysters
Rockefeller-tasting exactly as they did in 1905, the year Frenchman Jean
Galatoire bought Victor's Restaurant on Bourbon Street and gave it his family's name.
Galatoire's is remarkably well preserved, though it actually has the feel of
being older than it is. Its majestic atmosphere is derived not just from the tiled
floors, nineteenth-century chandeliers, polished brass, and tuxedoed servers,
but from the sense that those things extend from traditions rooted deep in
New Orleans's exotic past. It's a restaurant one can envision existing nowhere else so easily as Paris, the world's capital of sophistication, and many of the
people who are upset about Eyzaguirre's firing are equally upset that Galatoire's management would allow this elegant luster to be tarnished by, among
other things, relaxing the dress code.
"The last time I was in there-I've only been there once since Gilberto left,
which is unusual for me-there were people sitting at the table next to us who
looked as though they should have been dining at the counter at Woolworth's," said Holditch. "I don't mean to sound elitist. But on the other hand,
when you go to a nice restaurant, I think you ought to treat it as the kind of
temple of food that it is."
Galatoire's has been subject to some culinary tinkering over the years. The
restaurant only recently unveiled its first printed wine list. Portobello mushrooms are now a vegetable offering. These are the type of changes that would
not warrant mention at another restaurant. But nothing goes unnoticed at
Galatoire's, which is not so much a restaurant as an institution, complete with
a board of directors-eight Galatoire family members and one non-family
member-charged with overseeing the restaurant's operations. Constancy is
part of the allure, and the regulars, many of whom were introduced to Galatoire's by their parents and grandparents and who are now taking their own
children and grandchildren, find comfort in the familiar details.
In his letter to the Galatoire's board, Thomas Uskali recalled a meal he ate
at the restaurant in 1994 with chef Louis Arbot and Dr. Brobson Lutz. "Gilberto served Chef Arbot `the best Sazerac in memory,' and saw to it that our
table ate exceedingly well, with inspired choices both on and off the menu,"
Uskali recalled.
Rosenberg, another Eyzaguirre customer, first started eating at Galatoire's
in the early 1950s with his parents. "I still walk in and have that sort of visceral
gastronomic sensation," he said.
It's a restaurant where management has agonized over whether or not to
buy a toaster for fear that it would change the quality of the bread served with
the oysters en brochette. In 1992, the decision to start accepting credit cards
caused an uproar. Holditch recently noticed that the stuffed eggplant started
to arrive without the eggplant skin. "It's still just as good, but I miss that eggplant skin," he said.
Nashville businessman Gary Smith was one of many people who protested
the restaurant's decision in the mid-i99os to switch from hand-chopped ice to
the machine-made variety. "I used to love watching the waiters chop that ice,"
he said.
Smith has been traveling to New Orleans with his wife, Cathy, every six weeks since 1968. "I call them eating trips," he said. These trips always include
two or three meals at Galatoire's. For the past eighteen years, the Smiths were
served exclusively by Eyzaguirre. In fact, for the Smiths, each of whom wrote
a letter supporting Eyzaguirre, finding out that their waiter isn't going to be in
town for one of their visits is enough to make them change their plans. "He's
that important," Smith said, and by way of explanation asked: "You know how
you feel when you're halfway through your second martini? That's how I'd feel
when I'd enter Galatoire's and I'd see Gilbert."
Many of the people who wrote in support of Eyzaguirre liken eating at
Galatoire's to being part of a "club." Prerequisites for membership would include longtime regular patronage; a steadfast devotion to Galatoire's rituals
(i.e., eating lunch every Friday, or early evening dinner on Sundays); and, the
ultimate status signifier, having a special relationship with a waiter.
For years, ordinary citizens have complained that privileged insiders have
been allowed to circumvent the line in front of Galatoire's to gain easy access
to its downstairs dining room. That may well be, but legend has it that Galatoire's old first-come, first-served policy was so unbending that Charles de
Gaulle's request to have a table reserved was denied.
Club membership, if you want to call it that, is supposed to be accompanied by certain privileges, which is part of what is driving the discord sparked
by Eyzaguirre's firing. Many regulars simply can't believe that action was
taken without their consent. "We're all terribly upset, all of his customers,"
Marda Burton said shortly after the firing. A longtime regular, Burton is collaborating with Holditch on a book about Galatoire's history.
"The loss of your waiter after twenty-two years, it's just kind of a shock,"
Burton said. "And I think the customers should have some kind of say in this."
Galatoire's service staff has a relatively large concentration of career waiters
who bring to the table requisite amounts of expertise, arrogance, and savoir
faire. They've traditionally been granted a wide berth in Galatoire's dining
room. Over the years, waiters have been known to actually cook off-the-menu
specials for valued customers. And before the restaurant switched to full-time
bartenders in 1999, they mixed drinks-usually with a heavy hand.
"I walked out of there once so soused I got into an argument with a hitching post," recalled riverboat pilot Captain Clarke "Doc" Hawley, who ate his
first dinner at Galatoire's in 1959 with Dinner at Antoine's author Frances
Parkinson Keyes.
By all accounts, Eyzaguirre, fifty-six, was a deft waiter who knew how to
win the favor of customers.
"I think he saw waitering as a profession," Uskali said. "I had been with
Gilbert for fourteen years, and that included almost four years in Florida,
coming back every few months or so, and he still remembered odd little bits.
"I brought my mother a couple of times, and he remembered her name. He
was a throwback to how we assume things used to be."
"Gilbert always remembered your name and your family's name and your
children," Holditch said. "When I've needed somebody to drive me to the
hospital or something, he's done it."
"I can think of no other server who could surpass him," Barnwell wrote of
Eyzaguirre in his letter, "unless it is the Canadian VIA Rail's Chaleur dining
car steward, Cyril Landry."
But in the spring of 2002, Eyzaguirre ran into difficulties. On March 3, he
received a written notice from Galatoire's management for "purposely patting
a waitress on her back which also had the effect of her dropping several beers
on the floor." The notice went on to say that "sexual harassment is not permitted by law" and that any further sexual harassment complaints filed
against Eyzaguirre would result in his termination. Soon after came the second complaint, and his dismissal.
While many avoided the issue, a sizable handful of Eyzaguirre's letterwriting supporters chose to address the reason for his firing. While none
could claim to have better than secondhand knowledge of the particulars surrounding the dismissal, the waiter's dazzling performance on the dining room
floor was often enough for them to cast doubt on the legitimacy of the sexual
harassment allegations.
For much of the twentieth century, the Galatoire's dining room has been a
place run by men, filled with men, and catering largely to men. It is only in the
last decade that women were hired to work on the waitstaff, and it is one of the
many examples cited by the restaurant's old guard as a change for the worse.
It was in this environment that Eyzaguirre honed his craft and rose to the
level of a near-legend among the regulars. Some of those regulars even praised
the qualities that may not have served Eyzaguirre well in the new Galatoire's.
"Gilbert's Latino, he's gorgeous," said Burton, who has a hard time believing
her waiter would be capable of doing anything untoward. "He's flirtatious
with his customers, and we all love it."
Burton's letter was fairly typical of many written by the regulars, whose
views on sexual harassment, far from reflecting a twenty-first century ethic,
often seem to emanate from the same Old World sentiments that inform their
love of the restaurant and its anachronistic ways.
"Having been in the academic world, I know what a really slippery slope
this business of sexual harassment is," said Holditch, who likened Galatoire's
male-dominated, banter-filled waiter culture to that of a sports locker room.
"If you go into a situation like that, I think you need to sort of be prepared
for what's going to happen," he continued. "Even if they are hiring waitresses,
this is basically a man's world, that waiter situation. And I must say that generally I prefer waiters."
Holditch said the letter writers are "asking for a hearing and they're suggesting, and I think this is true, that there was a rush to judgment." And Richard J.
Tyler wrote: "Obviously, we are not privy to the events that led to his termination. I can tell you, however, that the word on the street is that his discharge
was for insubstantial conduct that has been blown out of proportion."
For his part, Eyzaguirre has helped advance conspiracy speculation. He denies any wrongdoing and characterizes the circumstances surrounding his
dismissal as a set-up devised to get rid of him. He claims that Rodrigue resents
his popularity among Galatoire's customers. "The waiters make the restaurant, not the managers," he said. "Some people feel that the waiters have too
much power."
Eyzaguirre said the complaint that got him fired stemmed from nothing
more than his touching the hand of a female bartender in order to get past her
in the restaurant's kitchen.
"My bottom line is I didn't become a sexual harasser in two months," he
said. "What about the other twenty-three years?"
Rodrigue would not respond directly to Eyzaguirre's characterizations.
"What he chooses to tell his loyal following is up to him," Rodrigue said.
"We're in an unfortunate position because we can't disclose what we have."
But a lawyer for one of the victims of Eyzaguirre's alleged advances begs to
differ with the waiter's account. While none of the sexual harassment complainants has sought the spotlight, the person who filed the second written
complaint, the one that lead to Eyzaguirre's dismissal, responded to requests
for comment through Anthony Glorioso, her family's lawyer.
"Would Galatoire's fire him if it wasn't significant?" he said. "It's not like
Gilberto did something and she ran off crying and filed [a sexual harassment
complaint] right away. He wouldn't stop. She even asked him to. He wouldn't
stop, so she gave in. She said, `I've got to tell somebody. I want to work here."'