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Features
May 1, 2003
I live in a city that, I think, is one of the
most interesting, lively, and picturesque in
the country. It has been like this for as long
as I can remember. St. John's has something
for everyone. If you want art, it's here. If
you want theatre, it's here. If you want recreation,
it's here. And now, I'm delighted to say, if
you want really good restaurants, they're here
too! We have restaurants serving French, fusion,
Italian, Chinese, Vietnamese, Mexican, Greek,
Newfoundland, and all sorts of other food. Fifteen
years ago? Forget it. You'd be lucky to find
one or two restaurants serving reasonably good
food, and even then, the fare was pretty conventional.
I'm talking steaks, roasted chicken, the ubiquitous
'pan-fried' cod, etcetera. However, over the
past several years a revolution has taken place
in the dining culture here. Now you find trained
chefs, good service, and rooms with some atmosphere.
However, it's not quite nirvana for St John's
foodies. Not yet. Occasionally, I am the victim
of bad service and even worse food. Allow me
to share with you a few cautionary tales...
First, let me say that I do not intend to name
any establishments in this column. I am not
a restaurant reviewer. These are merely examples
of bad things that happened to me over many
years of dining in restaurants in this city.
At any rate, two of the restaurants have closed
and one is still going strong. My horrible experiences
may have been isolated. So, I'll begin...
A few years ago there was a dining establishment
in a unique old house. It had a pleasant ambience.
Guests were seated in the various rooms of the
house, each room containing three or four tables.
The tables were adorned with flowers, the rooms
with their classic mouldings were dimly lit.
It was an expensive restaurant. But then, they
did have a reputation for pretty good food;
although I found their menu a little bit gimmicky.
They carried items like alligator and wild boar
if memory serves. On the evening in question
I ordered rabbit pie. I love game and was really
looking forward to this dish. We had some good
bread and very nice appetizers, as I remember.
Then I settled back with a glass of robust red
wine and waited, with much anticipation, for
the main course.
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"...I settled
back with a glass of...wine and waited"
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"We had some
good bread"
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Finally, it arrived and it looked wonderful!
But that's where the pleasantness ended. I knew
from the first bite that this rabbit had 'gone
off,' as they say. It tasted sour. Some little
beast bacteria was having a great time feasting
on my rabbit pie! But a strange thing happened.
I began to doubt myself. Was it possible that
a restaurant of this calibre, with this charming
atmosphere, and asking top prices could serve
a dish of bad food? (Yes, reader, I was that
naive.) I beckoned the waitress and asked, "Excuse
me but this rabbit doesn't taste quite right.
Is it possible the chef added an unusual ingredient?"
She ran off to ask and came back saying, "No,
the chef says he didn't use anything apart from
the usual seasonings." Now I was ready
to believe what my taste buds were telling me.
"But it doesn't taste right," I said.
Then she said something that made me see red
and I don't mean the pinot noir I'd been drinking.
"Well, the chef asked me if you were drinking
wine, because he thinks that might be what you're
tasting." I could not believe my ears.
Did he think he was dealing with someone who'd
never consumed wine with food before, or was
he suggesting I was under the influence of the
grape and therefore operating with impaired
senses? Apart from the utter stupidity of it,
I was stunned that a restaurant would challenge
a patron like that. It was obvious I was not
enjoying the meal. It should have been removed
right away, no questions asked. Of course, my
waffling didn't help. I should have sent it
back after the first bite. After all, I was
the one paying a load of greenbacks. The lesson
here...DON'T DELAY! SEND IT BACK! RIGHT AWAY!
On another occasion I was having a meal in
a colorful little bistro, made colorful by light
walls and bright artwork. The food was never
brilliant in this place. It was tasty enough
but not the magnet that drew me to the restaurant.
The magnet for me was always the atmosphere.
It was a small space, very cozy, with small
tables covered in white cloth. I ordered my
meal and sat back to enjoy the room and conversation.
Then my eye caught sight of it...THE PICTURE!
It was on a wall next to the table, right under
my nose. What I saw was a drawing of the map
of Newfoundland. However, the artist had turned
Newfoundland on its head so to speak. It was
completely upside down! Intentionally! He or
she was obviously makiing some sort of comment
by this, but I was not in the frame of mind
to appreciate the gesture because all my brain
wanted to do was turn the thing the right way
'round. The meal arrived and I attempted to
enjoy my food but I couldn't. The picture bugged
me like nobody's business. My stomach was unsettled
by it! The waiter eventually came to ask, as
they do, "Is everything okay?" This
was my opening. "Well, actually,"
I said, "this picture of the upside-down
Newfoundland is bothering me. My brain keeps
wanting to turn it around and, frankly, it's
put me off my food. I think the owner might
want to consider removing it at some point.
It might bother other customers as well."
He thanked me for the suggestion and I turned
back to my plate. However, before I could get
the next forkful to my mouth, faster than Captain
Kirk could say, "Beam me up, Scotty,"
this wild-eyed man appeared before me, glaring.
I soon learned it was the owner, mein host!
He had the glare of someone possessed. He spoke
firmly, "Does someone here have a problem
with the art?" He completely intimidated
me. Thoroughly chastened, in a weak voice I
told him what I had told the waiter. I repeated
that I could not comfortably digest my meal
because the picture was putting me off. "But
that's what ART is supposed to do! It's supposed
to challenge!," he screamed.
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."...faster
than Captain Kirk could say, "Beam
me up, Scotty"
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This got ME going. I told him that I agreed,
except this was not an art gallery. It was a
restaurant where people came to relax, forget
about their troubles and hopefully, enjoy a
nice meal in an atmosphere that is conducive
to good digestion. His riposte was, "I've
been thinking about changing the art here, but
I'd like you to know that if THAT piece is moved,
it won't be because of you." He then, mercifully,
left me to pick my jaw up off the floor. I am
not making this up. It actually happened and
I never stepped foot inside the place again.
Take that! Mr. Curator!
My final tale is the sorriest of the lot,
without a doubt the worst restaurant experience
I have ever had in my life. It happened in a
well-known, popular eatery in St. John's. As
with many restaurants these days, they serve
a lot of pasta dishes. Julia Child once said
pasta is a favorite of people who can't cook
and there are times when I'm inclined to agree
with her. However, the problem on this bleak
night was not the pasta but the mussels. My
companion and I were about the only people in
the restaurant. On duty was one waitress/manager.
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"The problem...
not the pasta but the mussels"
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I had ordered a seafood/pasta dish. It came
topped with mussels. I know mussels. I've eaten
thousands. I know how they are supposed to look,
smell, and taste. When the plate was put in
front of me my sense of smell was practically
blown-out by an assault of the most disgusting,
foul, noxious odour I have ever smelled from
food. It is not an exaggeration to say it smelled
like a heap of stewing, steaming GARBAGE!
My companion, a person with some medical training
immediately said, "Do NOT eat that! It's
DANGEROUS!" The warning was not necessary.
My hearing isn't perfect but I have the equivalent
of 'perfect pitch' when it comes to my taste
and sense of smell. The waitress, noticing the
look on my face, even before I'd spoken, suspiciously
volunteered, "The mussels are fresh. They
were bought today." To which I said, "These
mussels are BAD. Take them away." She responds,
"The mussels were definitely bought today.
The chef sometimes uses seasonings that people
aren't familiar with. That could be what you're
smelling." As calmly as I could I said,
"I cook a lot. I eat a lot of mussels.
These mussels are bad. They look bad (shriveled,
black, poisonous looking things) and they smell
bad. There are not many herbs or spices that
I have not used or tasted. Even so, good food
smells GOOD. Bad food smells BAD. I'm not happy.
Take it away." Finally, she removed the
mess. I had lost my appetite. My companion,
warily finished eating. Soon she returned to
add insult to injury, "What do you want
instead?" "Nothing, I'm fine,"
I told her. She persisted, "Well, you're
GOING to have dessert. I INSIST." So, I
had a cup of coffee and ordered a piece of white
chocolate mousse cake.
I ate the cake, reluctantly. I didn't enjoy
it. The odour of that rotting melange of pasta
and seaplague was still haunting me.
But here's the kicker. Here's the insult. The
bill arrived and she CHARGED for my dessert,
the one she insisted I have! I had been willing
to forgive them for almost killing me but this
was too much. My basic trust in people's common
sense was shattered. How is it that a person
working in a job like that, a person in her
thirties could be so ignorant of what was required
in a situation like I had been put through.
If it were me, I would not only have not charged
for the dessert, I would have provided the whole
meal for both individuals free-of-charge. They
were lucky I did not call the Department of
Health on the spot!
All of these incidents, at the time, left me
with a great deal of concern for the food business
in this city. However, my faith was quickly
restored by subsequent positive experiences.
But I can't help but think that restaurants
do themselves no favours when they respond to
diners the way these restaurants responded to
me. I never spent a penny in either of them
again, and as for the last...I will never recommend
it...and I mean NEVER!!
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