This used to be my favorite restaurant in the area. Had dinner there a dozen times and recommended it enthusiastically to everyone. Now I'm sorry I did.
On my last visit to Eleven (and I do mean last) my wife and I thought we had been transported to some other universe. Grumpy parking valet, grim hostess, uncaring waiter who wanted to be somewhere else. All of these things so unlike all of our previous visits.
Maybe I could try to overlook these shortcomings as a bad day or their personal problems. But, when the rack of lamb was served I was sure Rod Serling had to be lurking somewhere in the shadows. The lamb (my very favorite entree) was rubber. Could not be cut with a steak knife.
It was our anniversary and I didn't want to make what my wife would probably define as a scene. Also, I was so flabbergasted by the entire disastrous experience I said nothing. When the waiter took away the uneaten rubber lamb I was sure he would ask why I hadn't finished my tire. But no, nothing.
It's sad since I had enjoyed the place so much in the past. Well, nothing lasts forever.