Don’t believe everything you read.


So, are we food snobs? Yes, probably a lot of people would say so.

Are we spoiled? Yes, Andrew is a kick-ass cook and we eat like nobody’s business.

It’s tough. We’re critical. So shoot us.

But tonight? We’re seriously bummming. Seriously.

I went to opentable. I read all the reviews. FABULOUS.

But I wasn’t confident yet. So I went to yelp. Fabulous review. FABULOUS.

So I made the reservation. Even though we’d considered a cheap beach meal.

Arrived. So cute. High hopes.

We were seated by the kitchen door. Oops. That’s okay. Until we realized that people needed to “excuse me” to push past to the rest room. Yikes. We asked to move. Sure, that’s fine. Weird look from the waitress. I asked (half kidding) “did you want us to move our dishes and napkins and glasses” and she said (in a tone) “yes, please.”

Bad start.

We’d read that caesar salad at the table was fab.

I love caesar salad!

We all ordered. Three of us got the table-side salad.

The show began.

Oh wait, the drinks for the boys – virgin mojitos hadn’t come yet. That’s okay. Soon, I’m sure.

Okay, the salad.

Garlic. Yum. Olive oil. Yes. Mustard?

WTF? Mustard? WHO THE HECK PUTS MUSTARD IN CAESAR SALAD DRESSING? I hate mustard. You must know that.

I grit my teeth. And asked the question.

Yes, she said. Her boss/the chef adds mustard to caesar dressing. And would we like anchovies?

Sure, fine. Whatevs.

Then egg yolks.

Then lettuce. Croutons.

I couldn’t get my mind off the mustard.

There should be a fucking disclaimer. “This caesar salad made non-traditionally and includes mustard of all things. I know. But that’s how it is. Deal.”

So, 1 glass of wine already in me, I tried it.

I’ve had worse things in my mouth.

Truth be told, it wasn’t that bad. But I could definitely taste the mustard.

All of you who’ve told me that I wouldn’t taste the mustard in whatever (crab imperial, Mom?), you’re wrong. i do.

But okay. Fine.

Time for the appetizer. The olive bruschetta. That has so much balsamic vinegar that I swear I couldn’t taste olive. And you know how hard it is to drown out that olive flavor.

Andrew ordered halibut stuffed with crab. When I saw it put down in front of him, I was baffled; what was that scum on top. EWWWWW.

Two boys got a chorizo risotto. Looked great. Another got chicken. Again, fine.

I ordered a ribeye with an onion/mushroom ragout. Sounds great, right? Medium rare. I could hardly wait.

Medium well with a couple onions and ‘shrooms on top. And the saddest gray veggies I’ve ever seen.

While I recognize I’m not a restaurant reviewer and all that jazz, I have to say that this was horrendously disappointing for…

wait for it….

$181.00 before tip.

Oh, and the virgin mojitos DID come before dessert.

Barely.

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3 thoughts on “Don’t believe everything you read.

    1. I know. Having waited tables for years, it’scvery difficult for me. She didn’t get the full amount. I blame the chef!& kitchen more than herz…

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