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| - Certainly, one of the best salads I've ever had.
Freshly made apple cider vinaigrette, which was more apple cider puree than anything, drizzled over avocado, fire-grilled chicken breast, strawberries and other veggies on a mound of lettuce.
The service, and thus the experience, was crap.
There's an obvious greeting area when you enter the Ironwood. Except there's no one staffing the desk. It's Friday night, so all the tables in the bar area are reserved.
The front section, all with low tables and a lovely view of the Inglewood denizen walking past on Ninth Avenue, was empty.
But for one couple, who left because they weren't getting served.
We eventually were approached for a drink order and another couple came in. They left because they weren't getting served.
Our drinks and then our meals came in an adequate amount of time.
The server came 'round for one last time about 45 minutes later to ask if there would be anything else. We said no.
We figured she would be back with our bill, but she disappeared. Nowhere to be found, lost among the artsy, more cultured folk who folded into the bowels of the Ironwood.
She finally came back about 15 minutes later, whereupon we showed her the broken wine glass and shiraz all over the floor. Sigh ... me and my Maritime talky hands ...
She registered an 'oh' and then disappeared again.
I asked my companion 'what should we do.'
She replied 'we should just leave.'
The thought crossed my mind but it just isn't something I can do. We struck a deal. We would hang out at the host desk for up to 10 minutes and if she didn't reappear with the bill, we would leave.
She reappeared and exclaimed 'oh, did you want your bill?'
It isn't often I don't tip. I normally will leave at least a couple of bucks but there was no way in hell this server or establishment was making
any more off me than they absolutely could.
The broken wine glass? It was still there when we left.
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