In 2004, Phoebe Damrosch was working in a nothing restaurant in New York and tossing about for something to do with her life. A combination of moxie and dumb luck scored her a server position at superstar chef Thomas Keller's new restaurant, Per Se. Her new memoir, Service Included , takes readers behind the scenes at that exclusive dining spot, as Damrosch learns the intricacies of persimmons and butter, gets movement training from an 18th-century dance specialist, and embarks on a love affair with the sommelier. Boldtype editor Toby Warner chatted with Damrosch about the gender dynamics of the food industry, how writing is like waiting, and what makes a dinner worth $250.

Boldtype: Service Included is as much a memoir about a budding romance as it is about working in a restaurant. What kinds of parallels were there in your discovery of gourmet food and your discovery of a relationship?

Phoebe Damrosch: The book is definitely a love story. But the object of my affection is not only the sommelier; I also fell in love with truffles and champagne and cult butter and Scottish langoustines and being paid to talk about food and to people-watch.

BT: Some of the most fascinating anecdotes seem to come from the close attention you pay to diners. What did you learn from serving that you apply in your writing?

PD: Waiting tables and writing are both about paying very close attention and anticipating a guest/character's next move or next desire. It's really the perfect job for a writer. The dialogue one hears while refilling a water glass is probably rivaled only by that experienced by cab drivers. Restaurants are where people come to propose, break up, impress their bosses, pass the time with in-laws — all of life's dramas, condensed into a few hours, with better lighting, an impressive set, and a glorious view.

BT: What were some of the more unexpected challenges of being one of the few female captains in a very male-dominated profession?

PD: I had an epiphany during my time at Per Se: I was an inversion of an inversion. Wasn't feeding people — and making them feel at home — a traditionally female realm? So why was I wearing a tie? It all comes down to money. Just as most top chefs are men, the people at the top of the hospitality side are also men. But this is changing — women are natural communicators and sensualists, so they're naturals in the food and wine industries. As long as guests make it clear that they are ready to move away from the classic immobile French waiter with the serviette over his arm, we'll see more minorities in powerful positions in restaurants.

BT: After some of the advance press for your book, I came to it expecting more, well, gossip. While there is some of that, you really focus more on the sensual experience of eating and the personal growth you went through. How did you strike a balance between revealing just enough and revealing too much?

PD: Most people expected a gossipy tell-all, so when they got their advance copies, they scanned them for the few scandalous parts. The irony is that I had no interest in writing a snarky book. We all know that chefs have tempers, waiters can be catty, diners are high-maintenance, and celebrities eat out — yawn. I wanted to write about the side of restaurants that no one talks about: kitchen and dining-room staff who live for food and wine, guests who intrigue waiters, what it's like to wait on a critic, why management would hire an 18th-century dance specialist to train the staff, what restaurant workers do on their days off (answer: eat in restaurants). But certainly, the hardest part of writing this book was deciding what to leave out.

BT: Meals might cost upward of $250 at the French Laundry or Per Se. There will be folks out there who will say that's a ridiculous amount of money to spend on food — what would you tell them to convince them otherwise?

PD: I'll tell you what I told my mom before her six-hour lunch at Per Se. If you want to satisfy your hunger, go have a slice. This isn't just about calories; it's about gaining an experience and a memory. If you would spend $250 on a plane ticket or good seats for a concert, game, or show, you might also consider eating somewhere that will deepen your appreciation of food and service.

BT: Some of the liveliest passages in the book are about the times when you served the New York Times critic Frank Bruni. What about that episode stood out for you, other than his reputation?

PD: Frank Bruni dined six terrifying times at the restaurant, so by the end, he started to feel like a regular. While some critics came in determined to dislike the restaurant, Frank seemed ready and willing to have fun. I love to read his reviews now and imagine his experience from the waiters' perspective.

BT: Part of the book is about allowing people to appreciate how subtle and precise service really can be. What should readers know about their servers that they might not?

PD: Well, first of all, we're not all actors. Secondly, we're usually on your side. At Per Se, most of the waiters had plans to open their own places, become sommeliers, work in food writing or food photography, etc. Quite a few of my co-workers had been to culinary school. I love this question — I actually put tips for diners between every chapter to further answer it. For example, it drives waiters crazy when you steal our pens. Usually, we provide our own.

-