Once upon a time, I could not go to a restaurant without wearing my critics glasses, throughout. Those around me didn’t want to hear that the special brunch item was last night’s unsold dinner special, chopped up in an omelet, that the salt shakers were not wiped clean, that the appetizers should have been delivered a minute ago. “Please. Stop.”
I’m better now. “Better”, I say, but not cured. I look around less, I notice less, I make less comments, I make less notes on my cocktail napkin.
Thanks to two successful restaurants, managed by two teams of terrific people, I obsess less. (The most recent managers will probably smirk doubtfully when they read this…but they have NO idea! I have this theory…that the veteran managers have learned to do tjings the way I want, not ONLY because they have pride and care, but the added bonus is, I will stay out of their way!)
That said…if you hit me in the face with suck, I’m going to notice.
Like last week, on the second-to-last night of our annual summer vacation, on an island not too far away–an island I have been vacationing on since I was a kid–when campsites were only $7/night, vs the now-$350/week! $350 for dirt, that is, and no electricity…but at least the public showers come with coin slots! (that’s a blog for another day!)
“Just the facts, ma’am”
1. At 6PM, my 11 year old nephew states to father, “Dad, can we get lobster tonight?”
2. I say “Let’s try that restaurant on the water, with the great big lobster hung over the entrance door.”
3. Dad checks website. Menu states “Lobster in the rough”
4. 6PM. I call to make reservations. Hostess says; “Sure, come on in, we are not busy” (Note; Too much information! Just say “yes”. Don’t suggest, that in the middle of summer, on an island PACKED with fairly wealthy vacationers, that your smallish restaurant is “Not busy”! What the…)
5. 6:30PM. On the drive down, I wonder why said restaurant is not busy.
6. 6:40PM. We find parking in one of the 10 spaces out front.
7. 6:41PM. I notice a blackboard special in the parking lot (that’s a 1st) promoting “Locally caught Striped Bass $40” (I wonder if THAT is why restaurant is not busy)
8. 6:42PM. I wonder NOT why a vacation restaurant would charge $40 for fish caught less than a mile a way, but rather, why they would advertise that big price.
9. 6:45PM We are seated upstairs–breaking one of my many personal dining rules. NEVER sit upstairs. That too is a blog for another day.
10. 6:48PM We are served water that tastes, sort of, like it has lemon in it. When we inquire, the waiter responds; “Nope, no lemon”
11. 6:49PM We all speculate about the lemony-water… “Island water?”, “Soap in the glass?”, “It’s going bad?”
12. 6:51PM We note there is no whole lobster listed on the menu. We inquire. The waiter says; “The website is 2 years old. Let me tell you about our specials” (Again…TMI. Why don’t you just say… “yea…the owner’s don’t pay close attention to shit…but hey…the Striped Bass is REALLY good) The 11 year old wasn’t biting…
13. 6:52PM I am wondering if this was a really bad decision….
14. 7PM Our dozen “local” oysters arrive. Looking like they took a plane, then a cab, then the subway, on a crowded, hot summer’s day…sweaty…hair messy…make up smeared. They look like, they were removed from their shells, thrown against the wall–a couple times–picked back up, and re-placed in their shells. Gnarly, messy, ugly, $40 worth of “local oysters.” (Shameful…where’s my cocktail napkin…gimme a pen…) What we do know is, that the owner wasn’t busy updating the website, or cooking for a full-house, to teach the raw bar cook how to properly shuck an oyster. SHUCK. Not Shank.
15. 7PM Our “Tuna Sashimi” arrives. It’s seared. No biggie, really…it was ok…but, call it what it is. (For you non-sushi eaters…Sashimi is raw. Not seared. Not cooked. Raw.)
16. 7:02PM As we all note the sashimi disguised as cooked fish, we also note the very dark color of the won ton chips accompaniment. Why? Old fry oil…old, darkened, burning, fry oil. C’mon guys…the Bass is $40. Change the damn fry oil…
17. 18. 19. 20. It only gets worse…the waiter, wearing a big straw hat, so very energetic and happy to talk (alot), continually RUNS up and down the stairs “Clump-clump-clump-clump-clump” the entire meal, and half the time, is singing, or complaining about tips…and New Yorkers…and, “It must be August”…it would maybe be funny, if the oysters were not beat-to-shit and the 11 year old wasn’t screaming “Get me a freakin’ lobster!!” (ok…I made that last part up…The children were amazing, while the adults complained–with humor–as the manager was visibly upset that we didn’t choose the wine she suggested…while the bus people never filled the water…while dirty dishes sat on the table way-too-long…while the waiter TWICE forgot the tartare sauce for the (excellent!) fish sandwich (Clump-clump-clump-clump-clump)….
I’ll stop.
While my well-trained and generally accepting 23 year old daughter rated the “Food a 6” and the “Service a 3”, my brother-in-law actually said– “It wasn’t so bad. I guess I was in a good mood”
He got no argument from us. We had fun, for certain. Sometimes it just has to be about the company. Sometimes…that’s the only choice!
Truth is though…We won’t likely be back. Maybe it was an off night…we all have them….
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