My family and I went to Bella Notte here in Lexington for dinner tonight. It’s long been one of our favorites for two reasons: A. The food is excellent, well-presented and served in a unique yet warm and friendly atmosphere; B. We’ve never, ever had bad service, and almost always have excellent service. Tonight was yet another delightful experience. (Thank you, John-Michael.)

If you’ve read much of my writing, you’ll know that one of my favorite definitions of a brand is, “The promise of continuing delightful experiences based on a history of delightful experiences.” While others might have stories of a less-than-positive experience at Bella Notte (I’ve never heard one, mind you), you’ll not hear any from us … and that’s why going there is always a treat.

The prices are, IMHO, very reasonable based on the service, quality and ambiance. Can I eat there often? Not as often as I’d like, and that’s probably a good thing: When you indulge in a “treat” too often, it becomes pedestrian and loses those things that make it special. (Bella’s might be an exception to that.)

Earlier today, I ate lunch with a friend at a competitor’s a stone’s throw from Bella’s. The manager was walking briskly down the aisle by our table, stopped abruptly and, with her body still pointed down the aisle, looked over her shoulder and, while we were talking, blurted out, “Everything all right?” “Yes.” “Good.” Zoom, off she goes. My thought was that saying four words to us allowed her to check off another to-do in her mind. Genuine concern? Maybe so but, when someone is talking to you and sincerely wants to know what you think, they generally turn their body to you, pause and ask a question. Stopping so fast your shoes almost squeak, interrupting a customer and keeping your body perpendicular to the table says to me that my business might be appreciated … or not.

Tonight, the Bella Notte manager came by our table and, rather than making a cursory stop on his way to someplace else, he politely walked up to the table, waited until there was a pause in our  conversation, and asked how our meal was. He then asked my wife how her drink was, my daughter how her meal was and if I was happy with my penne pasta. Then he actually had a conversation with us and it was obvious he was sensitive to overstaying his welcome. He was genuinely concerned and pleasant.

Our server spent time talking with us asking what we like and made suggestions based on that information. He didn’t just run down the specials - he wanted to know what we like before making suggestions and didn’t mention the special until the end. He observed the table from a distance before offering water, asking questions, etc. Again, our dining pleasure was more important than the number of customers he was serving.

So, it doesn’t matter what business you are in, this is yet another little bit of proof that what I tell all my clients is true: Everything matters - everything. The demeanor of the manager and our server is part of the restaurant’s brand to me and always has been. I posted a picture of our dessert on Facebook (it was scrumptious and beautiful), posted on FourSquare with kudos to our server, and now I’m blogging about it because a first-hand experience is the most valuable teaching tool of all (unless it leads to injury or death).

So, are your customers doing any of this for you? If not, maybe a meal at Bella Notte would be a good refresher. Ask for John-Michael, but don’t ask him to sing.