| rev:text
| - My wife and I sat at the bar early on a Friday night.
We like sitting at the bar as it's lively and exciting and affords you a front row seat, behind-the-scenes look at a restaurant and who am I kidding? We get our drinks faster is why we like to dine at the bar.
We were witness to highly energetic bartender who I genuinely liked for all his eagerness as he was prepping the staff for the evening. Providing he wasn't too slammed, he'd be available to recommend wine to any diners who needed advice he told the wait staff. One caveat though. Call him the beverage manager. Call him the guy who picks the wine. Just don't call him the sommelier. Which is fair enough, but his explanation of wines was comprehensive, unfussy, enthusiastic, and way more palatable than anything I have seen from a lot of people who do call themselves a sommelier. That seems unfair.
Anyway whatever, wine sucks. I'm all about the beer and I liked their taps list. Simple but effective with a decent variety that seemed to have some thought put into it. I had the Brooklyn Lager, always good, and the excellent Blood Bothers IPA. They also had some nice bottles on the menu. Good stuff.
Back to my initial point about sitting at the bar and being a barfly on the wall.
There was one young chef that caught my attention. He worked closest to the bar. I say worked but really he was busting his ass. He seemed to be doing ten times the work of anyone else there while the other chefs ponced about with varying degrees of male bravado as most chefs do. Fair enough. That's how these things go I guess.
But at one point the chef farthest from the bar, one with well-defined triceps and an air of douchery that would make a possum vomit, chastised the younger chef for one thing or another.
Don't get me wrong.
I'm all for offering input.
Constructive criticism is how we all learn and grow.
But this was not that. This was one guy being a condescending jerk to a coworker, and throwing a pan back at him in melodramatic disgust because why not behave like a complete dick in front of customers?
It was uncomfortable and I felt bad for the kid.
I guess it's all part of the yucky bro culture in kitchens that makes me appreciated Grey Gardens all the more.
Anyway the food was decent, The jambalaya wossits were basically dirty rice balls. Good, but if you fuck up fried rice balls you have a real problem. My wife really enjoyed the mussels on toast. The ricotta agnolotti was pricey for what it was. But good. I'd give it a B++. And the kale salad was perfectly dressed, mostly really good, but the puffed rice cereal didn't work for me because it reminded me of puffed rice cereal. I forgot how much I don't like puffed rice cereal.
Not that I'm delusional enough to think that anyone has read this far, but if you have, I'll end on an anecdote:
On the way out we passed Matt Blondin near the entrance who was completely engrossed by his smartphone.
Now don't get me wrong.
He didn't have to.
He was under no obligation.
Maybe he assumed we didn't know who he was.
And I swear it's not just me being needy.
But it would have been nice if he asked how the meal was. Or thanked us for dining there. But he didn't. And that seems like a misstep, to not do something so simple that would have garnered so much good will. I don't think we'll be back.
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