Gemma López Gramunt: “I don't serve customers if they call me 'queen', swear, or make faces with their fingers when ordering food.”

BarcelonaGemma López Gramunt (Barcelona, ​​1995) is the head waiter, pastry chef, and co-owner of the Suru restaurant in Barcelona. Located opposite the Ninot Market, it appears enigmatic if you're visiting for the first time. In the two and a half years since its opening, Suru has become a benchmark in gastronomy for its well-prepared product offerings and a thoughtful wine list that conveys a passion for the world of wine. She has worked to address the rudeness sometimes encountered among customers who dine at Suru. She says the key is empathy, but there's a red line she won't tolerate: disrespect. So her ultimate goal would be for more young people to be attracted to the profession of head waiter, which Gemma believes chose her, and not the other way around.

Why did you decide to work in catering?

— I started in the hospitality industry because I wanted to travel and I wanted to pay for it myself, so I went to Berlin and started as a waitress. I had a good time because I liked talking to people, but I didn't see it as a profession, and that's why I decided to study design, which appealed to me because there are no limits: you can do and undo as you please, and I think that's how my mind works. When I finished, I was considering a master's degree, but I wanted to work in a restaurant that wasn't like the ones I'd worked in up until then, one that was one where I was passionate about food and wine. I started working at 23. at Rafa Peña's Gresca, and in three months she was the head waiterI can say that the profession chose me, and I don't think I've ever met anyone who said, "I want to be a head waiter." And now that I compare my training in the restaurant business between the places where I started, the hard-working one, and Gresca, I think I learned a lot at the former, because you're in front of everything and everyone. This allows you to learn many skills that you don't acquire in a restaurant where there are many staff members and everything is very compartmentalized.

What tools?

— You remove the stigma that you're the servant of those people. When I worked as a waitress in some of the so-called "hard-core" restaurants, I found myself treated as if I were in an ancient era, where some people are beneath others, being bossed around. I encountered this with some nationalities, but also with locals, misogyny, and rudeness. I was a waitress, offering a service, but it wasn't anyone's service. When I joined Gresca, I made a personal change, because I reaffirmed the idea that I'm not anyone's servant, but rather I offer a service. I also began to empathize with the rude customer, who is the person who wants to make it seem like they're above you, and there are both those with and without money.

Do you empathize with a rude customer?

— If you don't do this, you lose out, because it ends up corrupting the other tables.

How does a rude customer behave?

— He never says thank you for anything, he wants to decide where to sit, change chairs or tables without asking permission, he confronts you when you tell him he can't, and ultimately, he's disrespectful. And then I really don't tolerate this. When there's a lack of respect, there's no empathy; what I decide is to throw him out of the restaurant. However, I empathize first: I talk, I try to understand what he's going through and what he wants, and we find a balance that works for everyone. Then, there's understanding most of the time, but sometimes there isn't.

What does disrespect mean in a restaurant?

— They arrogantly call me out, or they constantly demand my attention by asking for more wine, more dishes, more of everything. It's a model of the nouveau riche, who are very demanding in restaurants because they don't know how to manage money and think they can bribe me to keep them company. I treat everyone equally, because everyone comes to the restaurant to eat, and even if they order a wine for over 100 euros, I won't pay them any more attention than the person at the table next to me who ordered one for 30 euros. I know that in my industry, as a head waiter, there's a tendency to do the opposite; those who spend more are served better, but I don't want to do that; on the contrary, I'll try to prioritize those who spend less, because I'll want them to come back again, to repeat.

We continue with the remaining clients in this regard.

— They're the ones who come into the restaurant and don't even say hello. I'm a woman, young, small, and short. I have a combination that makes them think they shouldn't greet me, but that's just not possible. They arrive, and then they can say they want to sit at the bar. I tell them no, that they have a reservation somewhere else, and they reply, "I want to speak to the owner." Or they go to the guys in the kitchen, who are visible, and speak to them, because they're guys. They come back to me because the cooks tell them I'm the owner, that I'm the one in charge. It's very sad, but that's how it is. I'm a waitress, but I constantly have to say I'm the owner too so they'll respect me.

What kind of clientele do you have?

— Locals and foreigners, from Northern Europe and Latin America, in some cases, both. There are also services where there isn't even a single woman eating. Years ago, she would sit at the table of those men. I can already see what they look like when they come in, and I know they'll be rude to me, but now it's Sergi who serves them.

I go back to what I said before, that I had kicked people out when they crossed the red line of respect.

— I've kicked people out twice for abuse of power. In one situation, they first called me and asked for a table. I told them they'd only have three people at the bar, but they said it would be two. They arrived at the restaurant and three of them showed up, but I didn't have a table for three. I told them no, that I didn't have any free stools at the bar. They told me they didn't care, and then they tricked me: "We know the owner, and we'll tell him." Then I told them I was the owner, and they could leave. And in the second situation, a very macho man was eating alone and making advances to the girl next to him, who wasn't his partner. I ended up buying the girl; I kicked him out. I can't validate what he was doing if I let him continue. He left and hasn't returned.

I've noticed that when clients call her, they call her by her name, Gemma.

— Yes, I introduce myself, and I tell them my name, so they can call me by my name. I don't serve customers when they call me queen, chat, prettyThey shout "xsst" at me, make smacking noises with their fingers, or raise their hands in exaggerated gestures to order food. I know how to listen, observe, and have empathy, but customers also need to have a minimum of politeness. They can't just walk in and start moving tables and chairs, deciding where they want to sit without consulting anyone.

Changing the subject. In the two and a half years you've been open, what's happened at Suru?

— We opened with the certainty that we would be a wine bar, with small tables and a bar. As time has passed, we've seen that the average bill has increased, that customers are ordering more dishes, and we realized that we were a gastronomic proposal, that dishes are paired with three bottles of wine on some tables. Now there are six of us working, and we've outgrown it because we've transformed into a different concept than the wine bar we imagined. Suru has become smaller and has an aesthetic that made sense as a wine bar, but not with the €100 restaurant we are now. It happened unintentionally, because our vision was for a wine bar with an average bill of €50.

When will the work be done?

— We're meeting with the architects this July; we'll be closing in January to complete them, which will coincide with the time we're leaving for France to go wine-hunting.

Will they put up a sign with the new works?

— No, we won't. Now we've put wine bottles back on the outside glass, which might be a good reference. We really like word of mouth. Everything happens very quickly. Instagram, which I manage, works because sometimes someone makes a video, and you fill the restaurant for a few days, but after that it has to stay full.

It is very well located, in front of the Ninot Market.

— It's a high-traffic area. People often come in and ask us if we do txuletón or pasta, and we say no. We want people to seek us out and know where we're going.

Gemma, would you make a better living as a designer than as a head waiter?

— Economically, yes, definitely. I ended up completing a master's degree in new materials design, which is currently gaining popularity. I even completed a project to pigment fabrics by growing bacteria from your own body.

How? Can you tell me?

— I made a cotton T-shirt, and to give it color, I took bacteria from my body and transferred them to the fabric, so they would grow and create the orange and blue color. This fabric, linked to a narrative of identity and authenticity, interested luxury brands because it's also sustainable and the dye could be recycled. I must also say that there's a lot of invisibility in the design world, but it's more economically secure than the hospitality industry.

Finally, tell me if with the name of the restaurant you meant to refer to cork just as we pronounce the word in Eastern Catalan cork, or wanted to designate another concept.

— We were looking for a name that would be both Catalan and Japanese. In Japanese, cork is the verb do, which has connotations of pleasure. So it's a combination of both names.

Are you considering opening another restaurant?

— I'd love to pursue other businesses besides restaurants. Suru is doing well, and it's been a profitable business since day one, but it has a ceiling. If I hire more staff, I'll also earn less. The structure we have now works because we're all working every day.