I read with interest this new buzz about the culture of tipping in restaurants and how some official organizations are looking to ditch that plus factor- that second plus sign on the bill that says “service charge-10%”. They want to encourage genuinely good service and be naturally rewarded by the happy customers. But can instinctively good service be trained and ingrained into anyone and just what constitutes a “tipping moment”.

Restaurant service in Singapore goads me. At its very best, it’s a fluke. I do try very hard to tip when I can and if they even so much as offer a well rehearsed line like “Sir, so nice to have you back here, it’s been a while”, I’ll fall for it and standby to part with some loose change tip, even if I’ve never been to that newly opened eatery before. I know for a fact that great eating isn’t all just about gnawing and swallowing. A meal can be made that much more sensational and even meaningful, if the basics like service, simple comforts and brand touch points are consistent. If you tell customers that the wait is thirty minutes and deliver as promised, that’s service. If you do so in five, it’s deception. And if you ask for directions to the washroom and get to be led there personally by the wait staff, that’s good service, but only if the restaurant is crowded. So, when do you tip, how much, and more importantly, how do we inspire or institutionalize the art of being a good server and also, a good customer. A hospitality school director told me how he once was so disappointed with his fish meal and called the waitress over to indicate his displeasure over the half eaten fillet. It came with a sense of dry humour, “Alison, please thank your chef and the team and tell them that this is the best chicken I’ve ever had.” Then, with a genuine smile “you’re welcome sir, we always do our best”, was Alison’s response. I did not ask it he tipped her later. I think customers should be honest and frank with servers. Tell them how good or bad you feel and why, and reward instinctively when deserving. Servers need to know customers are real people too and this can instill pride and responsibility in their work. Of course it really helps when they know of the rewards.

A young Singaporean university undergrad I chanced upon in America was telling me how she had to work nights at cafes and bars to help meet her school and living expenses. I remember her well because she is naturally friendly and curious. We had a nice little discourse after she surprised me with a “won’t the caramel in the dark soy sauce burn and go bitter when you fry cha kway teow?” when I was demonstrating the dish there. Shirley (she does not want me to use her real name) only introduced herself ten minutes later. She revealed frankly that tips alone for her, on an average night, can come to US$200. The customers in the German restaurant she works in likes her as she is sharp, fast, smiley and efficient. She once told a regular to seriously consider having the third martini as he’s driving and she heard about a police blitz on drunk driving that evening. That attitude came from a hungry and eager soul, offering all from her natural instincts and street savvy charm to please customers. She had never been trained in hospitality services before.

If Shirley’s story a could even tempt the charm out of wait staff here to expect, say, $50 a day in personal tips alone, this could be a tipping point in service culture here. Servers in an eatery are work-for-remuneration people, not volunteer social workers. There is not enough space here for me to tell you about my bad service experiences and I suspect that there is not even enough cyberspaces to host all the complaints from planet foodie. But I will share some gems of hope in this sad service state ours I chanced upon of late.

A family member was having steak at some café in Marine Parade area. She took one bite, quietly cursed, left it alone and forgave the chef in her heart and headed instead, for the salad bar. A server noticed and enquired about the unattended meat to which “it’s not nice and it’s too hard”, was her reply. She rejected the offer of a replacement or redo and just shrugged it off as bad luck. Creating a ruckus and seeking compensation was just not part of her Asian upbringing.

On they way out to pay her bill, she noticed the steak bill was automatically cancelled and an offer of a fat discount for her next meal there was extended to her, all totally unsolicited for. They deserved every cent of that service charge levied in the bill.