Anyone who eats in restaurants a lot is bound to accumulate stories about bad experiences. I guess I’d say my personal restaurant history resembles a normal curve: a few outstanding experiences, a great many in the mid-range, and a few that were horrendous. The last category is the most fun to talk about, isn’t it?
Recent thoughts on “restaurants and the downturn”: Have you noticed that you’re getting more stale and warmed over food in restaurants lately? And I’m not talking about cheap places. We just had a couple of stale meals in Chicago and San Francisco. If I were offering a 4-course fixed price meal in a San Francisco restaurant reeking with pretension and all I had on hand was stale bread I would think twice about presenting it as part of a cheese course. How about at least toasting it? In Chicago we had an expensive lunch with fluttering waiters. Too bad the whole plate of food had been re-heated. The spaetzle lodged under the meat were uniformly tender but the rest had dried out edges, as did the meat and the kale. Microwaved kale? Isn’t that against the law?
There has to be a better way of coping. Otherwise restaurants are going to lose even their dedicated, diehard patrons.
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More sad tales . . .
We walk into a restaurant around 10 p.m. and the host says loudly in an unfriendly tone: “What are you doing here?”
We’ve taken a friend out to dinner for her birthday and we’re enjoying our dessert coffee in a busy, rather expensive restaurant. The host comes over, leans down, places his hand in the center of our table, and says bluntly: “I need this table.”
As we enter a restaurant that we’ve been told is the “best in the Valley” we pass a kitchen worker with a black eye and a boombox coming out the front door — the hostess flicks an ash off our table as she seats us — neighboring diners are wearing T-shirts — cheesy pop music starts blaring — the high-priced menu is grimy — the wine is Sebastiani — they are out of hors d’oeuvres — the waitress appears strung-out — the bread basket is plastic “wicker,” partly melted — the “French bread” is as soft as a hot dog bun — the silverware is mismatched and I have a steak knife instead of a dinner knife. We decide not to eat dinner after all, pay for our drinks, and depart. It closes a few weeks later.
We sit down at an expensive restaurant and begin to peruse the artistic-looking menu as we wait for a friend to arrive. We ask for drinks and an appetizer but the server declines, telling us she can’t bring food to the table until our friend arrives and we all order because otherwise we might get the new menus dirty.
Some friends in another city take us to an expensive restaurant they love, not realizing it is in its death throes. One of us orders soft shell crab, which is badly burnt and partially decayed. I am attracted to an entree that comes with sliced beefsteak tomato (which I adore). It arrives with no tomato. I inquire and they bring me a cereal bowl holding about 6 cherry tomatoes, evidently nuked. Then a waiter drops an entire tray of dishes inches away from our table. A few weeks later the place, once highly rated, closes.
While visiting a large midwestern city we go to a riverside restaurant, quite pricey despite its rundown appearance which we don’t notice until we are seated outdoors. Rain threatens. We receive our food and begin to eat whereupon a downpour begins. Everyone runs inside. Our waitress helps carry our dishes but evidently takes one (half eaten) to the kitchen by mistake and it never reappears. It is crowded and no one can find us a table so we stand for about 10 minutes by the entrance, with our plates on the reservation desk. Finally we are seated in a dreary corner. When the waitress asks if I want another glass of wine, I suggest it might be on the house. She says loudly, NO! NO WAY. Our check is a hefty one even though we have eaten very little.
At a New England inn, we ask if the swordfish on the special is fresh. Looking perplexed, the server slowly replies, “Well, it was fresh when it was frozen.”
Do you have horror stories?
We eat in restaurants several times a week and yet know very little about their history. I plan to dip into my archive of research and images every so often to present a little tidbit that highlights aspects of our American restaurant culture. Let me know your thoughts.
11 Comments
July 28, 2008 at 4:23 pm
There’s a dirty but fun restaurant in our small town where I go about once a year. In summer there are always flies. The first time I went there the owner was walking around swatting them with a fly swatter.
July 28, 2008 at 4:26 pm
One night during dinner the waiter disappeared about halfway through our meal. He was gone about 20 minutes when the owner casually came over to say Hi and how’s everything. We said it was great but we hadn’t seen our waiter in about 20 minutes. She apologized and walked away to the back.
Here he comes in a huff with his hands on his hips and says dramatically, “I understand there’s a PROBLEM at this table?!” as though we had been very naughty. It was bizarre.
Then he bought the place.
August 2, 2008 at 6:03 pm
We went to a famous, prime rib restaurant in Los Angeles. The parking lot was mobbed; there were several valets. People poured into the restaurant. Even with reservations, we waited an hour. There was a huge waiting area with not many chairs. People were packed in like sardines. It wasn’t possible to find a place to stand where we weren’t constantly getting bumped into. Giant containers of meatballs and other appetizers were brought out to soothe those waiting. The first people to get to the meatballs loaded their plates like it was their Last Supper. Many who lined up discovered the meatballs were gone by the time they got to the front of the line.
We were so happy when we were finally seated in a nice, corner booth. Our happiness didn’t last long because we were told the booth belonged to others. We never were told why. We were led back to the crowded lobby. Eventually, we were taken to a table in a back room of the restaurant in front of a busy, service, swinging-door. The room was set up for several very large parties, so we knew it would be very noisy soon. We said we didn’t want this table. We were led back through the restaurant (quite a walk) to the lobby. Pretty soon, we got a nice booth in a quiet room.
The food was good, but definitely not worth the ordeal. Our nerves were jangled after this expensive dinner. It was very nice to get back into our car and head home.
August 15, 2008 at 12:46 am
Attracted by outdoor dining on the veranda of an old inn in Western New York State, we only gradually noted the warning signs: the place claimed AAA approval, but also that of Duncan Hines — When did he last check it out? Linen napkins were artfully arranged as little caps on the butter plates, but there were gravy spots on the tablecloth; plaster was peeling off the pillars of the portico.
The “executive chef” personally touted the specials by way of an elegant menu card, so I went with the yellowfin tuna, “lightly seared” and served with mango salsa and cornbread. Actually, the mango chunks and cilantro were the best part of the meal. The tuna had been frozen and then cooked for what must have been days — broiled, baked, boiled — who could tell? Not that it made a difference.
The cornbread did have a little flavor, from jalapenos, but having rested under the slab of gelatinous tuna, it had turned to mush. Same was true of the previously frozen dinner rolls, though, so at least the chef was consistent.
August 22, 2008 at 7:03 pm
My family and I recently spent a week in NYC. We were planning to go to an event at Lincoln Center and wanted to eat before. My mother-in-law recommended a Mexican restaurant which also had a high Zagat’s rating. We went and I thought the food was bad and over priced. They made guacamole at the table which was a big gimmick and didn’t taste very good. The decor was very elaborate with an indoor waterfall. There was nothing very “authentic” about the food which was primarily food for people who have never eaten Mexican food. Near where I live there is a Mexican restaurant with no decor or atmosphere but really good food.
January 1, 2009 at 2:52 pm
A restaurant in my town has a reputation for endless horror stories. The quality and ambiance are quite good despite the sourness of its owner and host. He greets you with a rather contemptuous look, which says “why are you here, disturbing my reading? You are really not welcome.” One personal story among many: I made the mistake of asking him if it was possible to complete our meal by a certain time as we were going to the theatre. He replied: “this is not a fast food restaurant, perhaps you should eat at MacDonald’s.” He was not amused. Oh well, the fireplace and good food keep us coming back, perhaps to spite the owner. One wonders if he is in the wrong business.
June 22, 2009 at 2:20 pm
When does minimalist mean just plain stingy?
I have great appreciation for careful design in restaurants, subtle lighting effects, fine attention to delicate flavors, and modest (even small) portions artfully presented. But a few visits to a French bistro in Western Massachusetts has led me to balk.
The main problem seems to be one that threatens tapas restaurants as well: a dinner actually costs more than other fine restaurants since it takes quite a number of items to make up a satisfying meal and all the items on the menu priced a la carte, including a small dish of olives, a few doll-house sized pickles, or two slices of baguette and some olive oil (vintage, to be sure).
This is a restaurant one could only really enjoy going to if one were not at all hungry, wanted a good glass of wine with just a tidbit on the side – and money were no object. But how often does that happen, and to whom?
The prices probably do reflect the realities of using choice, local ingredients and the small-scale, highly skilled preparation. But with the main dish at nearly $30 and a further charge for any addition such as salad, vegetable, or starch — not to forget bread, if you insist on peasant behavior — this gets to be the most expensive dining this side of Manhattan.
And I certainly don’t mean that stylish elegance and more generosity are incompatible. I’d contrast the beet salad I recently was served here, about three beet wedges the size and shape of orange sections, with the beet salad of the delightful aigre doux in Chicago. The latter was a tricolor array on a beautiful rectangular plate with subtle greens on top and perhaps a tiny bit of cheese and nuts – the perfect balance of substance and subtlety.
So the unfortunate impression we’ve gained after several visits is that the hosts are less concerned to satisfy your hunger than to have you appreciate the passion with which they have peeled and roasted the radishes (all precious 8 of them).
Even a little self-irony about how miniature everything is might help. (I half expected the check to be delivered in a fairy-tale carriage drawn by Walt-Disney-style mice). A little sense of generosity, humor, and festive excess would go a long way.
Us peasants want more!
July 25, 2009 at 6:25 am
My husband and I, and our two teenaged sons dropped in to a Chinese Buffet Restaurant after the dinner hour but a few hours before the restaurant was set to close. The fact that the place was deserted should have been our first clue, but the waitress assured us that though there may not be alot of choice with the dishes, there was enough of those that were left. I earn my living working in the Dietary department of a long-term care facility and making sure the food is maintained at proper temperatures is part of my job. I was quite surprized when we began to eat our food and the eggroll I bit into was luke-warm at best. I called the waitress over to voice my concern of the safety of dishes that were kept at less than proper holding temperatures. She reminded me that the dinner hour was over and I impressed upon her that although the rush was over, one still had to follow proper proceedures in keeping the food the proper temperature. I offered to pay for the food that was eaten but told her I would not fork out the $14.99 per person for a smattering of cold and possibly bacteria laden food. After discussing the matter with the manager, the hostess did us the great favour by agreeing with me and asking us to leave. Often as we drive by to our favorite Chinese food restaurant, we notice that the parking lot is nearly deserted most of the time. Wonder why.
September 16, 2009 at 11:11 pm
There’s a chain here in Atlanta called J. Christopher’s. Not really a chain – but there are three of them. This area is horribly breakfast-challenged and JC’s is one of the few places where breakfast is served. Our friends RAVE about it.
We gave it not one, not two but three tries.
I won’t bore you with the details but there were incidents of no water refills, no coffee refills and incorrect orders.
What finally made me scratch this place was a serving of their “signature” Blueberry Crunch Pancakes. A friend asked, “Well, did you tell them how you wanted your food cooked?” I answered, “If I have to tell them ‘cook the pancakes until the batter in the center of the cakes is no longer liquid,’ I’m not interested in going back.”
September 17, 2009 at 1:05 am
Er, yes, that’s basic — where’s the crunch?
September 17, 2009 at 9:46 am
There was a streusel-like substance on top. It was basically like biting into a mouthful of sugar. While I know that sounds just enchanting, it’s not really my idea of breakfast. I thought the “crunch” might be a granola-like topping. When my fork went through the half-cooked cake, I thought, “Ok, this place is off our list permanently.”