Food Files

10 tips to navigate the specials menu at any restaurant

Matt Preston

Baffled by the so-called specials recited tableside at restaurants? Are they one-off wonders or cobbled-together mishaps from the menu? Read on.

Restaurant specials are a thing of great debate, and no little derision. Over the years, the concept has been undermined by places selling things that aren’t all that special as ‘specials’.

So how do we know whether to order a restaurant’s specials when we eat out? I’ve got 10 top tips for picking specials that are truly, er, special. It’s by no means a definitive or foolproof list, but it should help.

If there’s just one special on offer

A special should be special. It should be the best thing on the menu. The very word ‘special’ implies that it’s better than the rest of the dishes on offer. That’s why I don’t mind it if a restaurant has no specials or only offers them occasionally. This implies that when a special is offered it might actually be special.

If it’s seasonal – and even better if it’s local too

Ideally, at this time of year I want the waiter to tell me that today’s special features the first of the new season’s chestnuts, rhubarb, olive oil or Jerusalem artichokes – although maybe not together in the same dish. Even better if the special features “the last of the persimmons from chef’s tree”, the fresh salsicce from their recent salami day or a mushroom risotto using “wild fungi we foraged from the local forest and paddocks”. Order away.

If it’s unique

Definitely contemplate the special if it has a unique ingredient as the hero or it’s a dish you wouldn’t normally get to try anywhere else. I remember once watching a chef buy the only two boxes of fresh pistachios to ensure no one else could put them on their menu, even though he only needed a quarter of that amount. Sure, he found a use for them but it showed a genuine desire to make that night’s special truly special.

If it’s limited

When waiters recite a special followed by the words “but we’ve only got one serving left” (and with the price being revealed obviously) I usually grab it immediately because I’m not only a sheep, but a sheep with an abiding fear of suffering dish envy. I would just die if the table next door snagged it and it came out looking and smelling amazing.

If it’s totally camp in its timeliness

The chicken shop selling that ‘Christmas in a bun’ with a turkey burger, cranberry sauce, roast potato bits and gravy. Less so if it’s a Christmas pudding and brandy butter McFlurry but I’d be tempted if it came in a commemorative cup with a cartoon DJ-ing Disney reindeer on it. Maybe.

If it seems totally random

You’re in a country pub with the most conservative meat-n-three-veg menu but there’s a rogan josh on as the special. It’s odds on that chef in the kitchen is from Kashmir, and if he is Indian, then order that special. The pride and care he will have taken in this dish will usually make it truly special. The same goes for those empanadas or the pastel de choclo in that instant-coffee, pie and cheese-toastie café with the cheap tubular metal furniture deep in the suburbs, but only when the chef or owner is wearing a Chilean soccer top and has pictures of La Roja, Alexis Sanchez and Carlos Caszely behind the bar.

If it’s a political statement you agree with

Hate the French and their secret service shenanigans? Then order those special freedom fries. Upset by the vicious attacks on burger chains by the likes of Morgan ‘Super Size Me’ Spurlock, Eric ‘Fast Food Nation’ Schlosser and a whole pitchfork-wielding posse of food bloggers in stretchy gym gear (or ethically sourced Mongolian yak-herder pants)? Then buy those uber-decadent quad-stacked burger specials – even if they’re irresponsibly fattening and contain enough calories to feed a medium-sized refugee camp.

When it’s a collab

Every hype-beast knows that there is nothing cooler than a collab ATM (here ATM stands for ‘at the moment’ and not ‘automatic teller machine’ even if these collabs are a licence to print money) whether it’s Adidas with Yohji Yamamoto or A Bathing Ape, or Louis Vuitton with Supreme. So if today’s special is a collaboration of a dish between the restaurant and a top guest chef then that truly is a special to take seriously.

When it’s a fresh special

Specials that you see being written freshly on a blackboard should always be contemplated. The words “we just got in a box of…” or “Mrs Jenkins from the bank let us pick her mulberry tree today” also help to get me over the line. Extreme locality and limited availability make these even more attractive.

If you trust the waiter or the chef

One of the great benefits of being a regular is knowing when you can trust the chef or your favourite waiter. So if she tells you that you need to try the special, do it!


Matt’s 8 red flags for specials you should never order

A special is not something the waiters haven’t been able to sell over the previous seven nights – especially if those things are prawns.

A special is not that panna cotta that didn’t set now being sold as custard.

A special is not a clever advance in marketing from a massive fast-food chain. It’s hardly special if you’re going to sell 50,000 of them.

I would also debate that a special should not look like it’s following a trend too slavishly such as the sudden appearance of insects among the blackboard specials at your local French bistro, or a pub that drags an old steel drum into the loading bay and fills it with joinery offcuts so they can offer ‘potatoes cooked over coals’ as a special side.

Specials cannot be printed on colourful laminated cards. They should be spontaneous and not something planned out long enough in advance to get a designer to create a show card to sit on the table (or the check out), get it printed professionally and get it laminated. These last two go doubly for any fast-food ‘special’ advertised on TV.

Any special must be true to the spirit of the restaurant where it is being sold. I went to very earthy but very expensive vegan super-food restaurant in Mexico where you sat on rugs on the sand, ate dishes that promised to ‘open your third eye’ or ‘cleanse your chakra’ but among the kale smoothies, chia puddings and cashew cheese you could order a pan-fried salmon fillet as a special.

I get suspicious in small restaurants when there are more than two specials on offer, and when the waiter doesn’t automatically tell you the price.

A special isn’t a promotion. Don’t try to tell us it’s special when the wholesaler has just sold some new crap product/ingredient cheap because they’re trying to persuade us customers (and other restaurateurs) that it’s edible.

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