| rev:text
| - This one's going to be long and divided into two parts:
PART I: How I'd rate this restaurant based on my first three or four visits: 4 stars
+ The atmosphere is truly pleasant and welcoming. It's intimate and cozy, nice and dark, and very relaxed.
+ The service is superb. If I'm not mistaken, Monique has been our waitress every time we've been there, and I can't say enough good things about her.
+ The food is generally delicious; their salad dressing is out of this world; French Onion soup is earthy, sweet, and served sizzlingly hot.
- The menu is very limited. There are a few appetizers, some crepes, a chicken dish, and three gratinee dishes.
- They are always out of at least one special. Every single time we've been there, this has been the case. Even more annoyingly, they refuse to erase that special from the blackboard. Why must I know that I could have had boeuf bourguignon if I'd shown up an hour ago if there's no boeuf bourguignon to be had? Just get an eraser.
-Prices are high. The dish I usually get (tartiflette gratinee) is primarily composed of potatoes. It tastes great, but $16 seems a little high.
- I often wonder how much of the food's appeal comes from what must be a massive amount of butter, cheese, and cream.
- Their loyalty program sucks. Eight visits gets you a free dessert. That comes out to $1 a visit for a place where you'll pay $100+ for a dinner for two with a bottle of wine.
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PART II: Tonight's experience: 1 star
Tonight was an absolute shit show. We made a reservation for eight. Our son turns six months tomorrow, and his grandparents are in town. This was literally the second time we've able to go out in those six months. We wanted something nice and romantic.
We were seated at a table that should not have existed. It was shoved into the back of the restaurant under a bright light, right across from the kitchen and the bathroom, and inches away from a refrigerator. Every minute and a half or so, one of the waitresses had to get something out of this fridge, and when it opened the light became even brighter. We were right in the middle of the area where the staff congregated, and they kept hitting my wife's chair, which was completely unavoidable. Again, this table should not have existed.
So we asked Monique if there was anything to do. As usual, she was fantastic. She apologized and told us that she could move us to another table as soon as they paid their check. By the time we got to that table, though, it was already 8:20.
We ordered wine based on Monique's recommendation (neither of us knows a damn thing about wine) and it was fantastic. French onion soup was uncharacteristically bland tonight; entrees were just what we expected from previous experiences.
Then we ordered dessert. Again, half of the menu was unavailable, but staring at us from the blackboard. But that wasn't a huge problem: they still had their sea salt caramel cheesecake. We ordered a slice to split.
It was awful. Just absolutely awful. In the fourteen years we've been together, my wife and I have never ordered cheesecake and not finished it. There's a first time for everything. The problem was pretty clear: It was overcooked. The edges were way too brown and the cake had sunken into the crust. When we cut into it, it was dry and mealy. If Nanou had tasted a slice, she wouldn't have served it. Or at least she shouldn't have.
So Nanou comes by making her rounds and asks how everything was. We told her that the meal was fine, but that the cheesecake was not good. She came up with a few excuses, but she apologized. Ok. No huge deal. Then the check comes. And the cheesecake is on it. I catch Monique's eye and tell her that I think they should take it off the bill. She goes and tells Nanou that. Nanou responds by glaring at me and making this incredibly dismissive gesture with her hand, flicking her wrist in disgust. Apparently this meant that she would take it off the bill, but it was about the most obnoxious thing I've seen in quite a while. If Nanou wants to complain about customers, she can do that in the kitchen. And that table should not exist.
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