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| - First time having dinner here although I have done take out sandwiches. Upon seating, I saw a woman eating a delicious looking pasta with red sauce and asked the server what it was. It was Mostaccioli. Yup, I wanted that. Ordered a meatball on the side to find out what kind of meatballs they made. Another person ordered linguini alfredo and hubby ordered his old stand by: eggplant and chicken combo which came with pasta on the side.
First they served some rustic italian bread that I liked but hubby thought was stale. Not too stale though. Good enough that two of us ate it without too much complaint. It came with a garlicky herb butter that everybody liked. Do you know that hunger makes stale bread go away? The Mostaccioli came out looking amazing and if looking amazing was not enough, it tasted like it had been made by the Gods. It was cooked al dente perhaps more like al dentissimo, but really, really good. The linguini alfredo was magnificent (I was allowed to taste it only because everybody wanted to taste my amazing pasta!). And then..... there is the story of the eggplant/chicken combo. Firstly, the chicken was overcooked and then the most offensive of it all was that it had an over-refrigerated taste. Have you ever kept something in the refrigerator so long that the flavors from the other foods permeated it? Yup, I tasted it and assured hubby that he was not going to get food poisoning that it was just a case of "we kept the chicken in the fridge too long." The overcooking, in my humble culinary opinion, is that the eggplant and the chicken are both pre-cooked and when an order comes in they put the sauce and cheese on it and then reheat it in a salamander or the oven. (IN MY HUMBLE OPINION). So the mood was not so light at our table tonight. You know that when the chief is not happy it is not a good thing. But the chief was really nice about it and didn't say anything to the staff about the chicken. Next scenario.
I had my heart set on having some tiramisu so I called over the server and asked him about the tiramisu. I was concerned about having old desserts served to me. He went on and on about how the desserts are made by so-and so's wife and they are fresh, fresh, fresh, etc etc etc. As he went through his litany of desserts, he mentioned flourless chocolate cake which hubby loves. I figured that I would make up for his bad meal by getting him the chocolate cake. So I said, we'll have the tiramisu and the chocolate cake and almost in an arrogant, insulted fashion, he said: I'll continue telling you about the gelatos. The fact that I already told him what I wanted was of no consequence. He continued his litany of gelato flavors almost like Forrest Gump's buddy Bubba did as he called off the shrimp dishes from all corners of the earth. I waited for his conclusion painfully, hoping he would turn around and get our desserts. He did. Finally. Next scenario.
He arrived with 3 dishes. One with the flourless cake which was to brighten my "sunshine's" day and provide relief to the disappointment of his meal. Another had all whipped cream in it which we were to share. And the third dish was a "cannoli???" Wait, wait........ wait....... let me look more closely.....no, it's not a small cannoli. it's... it's.... OMG.... it's our tiramisu!!!! A tiramisu the size of a cannoli, I KID YOU NOT. Too bad I didn't take a photo of it. Two lady fingers (used to make tiramisu) was the extent of the tiramisu. Never ever have we seen anything like this before. Could have easily been one bite except I am too much of a lady to do that in a restaurant. If I had been home with a tiramisu of that size, I would have bent my head backwards like a seal and scarfed down the entire piece in one bite. And then to make it worse, hubby compared the flourless chocolate cake to others I have brought home for him and it did not meet his standard. Bust #2. Score: 0-0 . Next scenario.
We get the bill and it is a slip of paper with a total amount due, non-itemized, a few names of the dishes scribbled down but no prices-Just the total due. Reminds me of the bills Tony Soprano used to get at his favorite haunt except that Tony didn't have to pay. How do I know if my bill was correct? I don't. Do I have to sit there with a calculator?? Maybe. And maybe someone else, not me.
Don't know what to say except that my pasta dish was amazing. The question is whether all the other bad stuff that happened during this dinner can be made up by even the best of pastas.
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