Last Meal & Testament
Quite a few nights ago my family (sans my hubby) braved the horrendous city traffic in the downpour for dinner at what we remembered to be an awesome restaurant (this memory stems from way back in the early 90s)-called-Eden-Seafood-Village-.
Don’t let the ‘village’ part of the name fool you folks, this place is about as posh as its going to get. And expensive – averaging about $90 per person for an appetiser and entrée. Obviously, we were expecting a really nice experience. So, all together now…
WE WERE WRONG.
Firstly, EVERYTHING was slow. Like, a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter. We got to the place and since it was raining mom suggested to valet the car. So I wait… And wait… And wait. 10 minutes later, the valet kid comes running up and he takes my less than 4 month old Volvo S80C… AND SCREECHES OFF TO PARK IT!!! AFGAFGAFGAFGAFGAFGAFGAFGAFGA!!!!
Bleh. I was too hungry to really kick up a fuss so in we went to get a table. Mind you there were only 4 couples and two other families at the place so plus us that would make the place top out at 7 tables. And ours was the largest party at 6 people.
The table they showed us to was for 10 top and since it was too big, we suggested a switch to a smaller table. The waiter just stood there with his mouth open and dumbly pointed back to the table the hostess showed us to.
So daddy told him, “This table is too big for 6 of us. We want to talk to each other. Can we get another table instead?”
Again, the [dumb]waiter just stood there and pointed to our original table. Giving up, we just moved to the smaller table. As we are perusing through the menus we discover that the spot that we picked was way too cold. Shivering, mom suggested we move to a table away from the air-conditioning vents. When the [dumb]waiter came back to get our orders, we told him that the table is too cold and we wanted to move. Guess what? He pointed back to the same 10 top we were shown to.
>.<
Lord, grant us patience to accept the things we cannot change. And the ability to change things we cannot accept.
That being said, we move to the new table, leaving [dumb]waiter gaping at us in confusion. Sitting down, we motion for him to come and get our orders. He dumbly complies. Mom orders for a lobster bisque for Jenny (who was visiting us-from-China-)-, a seafood chowder for daddy and then she adds a 2nd lobster bisque for herself. My sister chips in and orders a medium steak. Then mom chimes back in and orders garlic bread for everyone at the table. Not quite finished with her order, my sister then asks to replace her potatoes with fries. And you know what the [dumb]waiter said?
“Uh… So want fries, so no garlic bread?”
>.<
Lord, have mercy.
We had to slowly tell him that the fries were for my sister’s medium steak and the garlic bread still stands. FINALLY, the [dumb]waiter nods and finishes taking orders from the rest of us.
I was the last one he came to so first thing I said to him was, “What’s the soup of the day?”
He looks at me in horror. “Uhhhhh… Huh?”
Steeling myself from screaming at his utter brainlessness, I bracingly told him in a very clear tone, “WHAT. IS. THE. SOUP. OF. THE. DAY.”
Stammering, he grins sheepishly at me and stutters, “Uhhhhh, d-d-d-don’t know…”
HOLY DUMBASS, BATMAN! So I told him, “Well go and find out.”
Jiggling on the spot like he’s got fleas, he stammers for several seconds before running off to the kitchens to find out. Sigh. Skipping back, he tells me, “Cream of chicken soup.”
Okay. Scrap that. I order a medium rare steak. He repeats, “Medium well…?”
“NO! Medium RARE.”
“Medium…?”
“MEDIUM RARE!”
“Medium… Rare…”
“YES!!!”
I swear to God, working with autistic children wasn’t this trying.
THEN, we order lobster and jumbo prawns (shrimp). So standard procedure for lobster is the same for wine. The restaurant shows us the lobster, we either approve and then they cook it, or we disapprove and send it back and repeat the process. So we told [dumb]waiter to bring out the lobster to show us. He nodded and left.
So we waited.
And we waited.
Appetisers came… But no live lobster.
So we tried to signal for the [dumb]waiter. No one was around. In fact, service was so lousy for SEVEN (7) tables; the table next to us just paid their bill and left after trying in vain to order dessert for over 15 minutes. And the other family group actually went to refill their glasses themselves.
Then the garlic bread came. Mom ordered garlic bread for everyone. The basket came out with 5 pieces. We had 6 people at the table. Well gee, that’s great math for you. And then our soup came. And if you check the order above, we ordered 2 lobster bisques and 1 seafood chowder. What came out was 1 lobster bisque, 1 seafood chowder and 1 oxtail soup. Where the oxtail soup came from we haven’t a clue.
So finally we manage to flag down the supervisor. We told him what had happened, and that we have yet to see our lobster and he needs to get us another piece of garlic bread.
This came out of the supervisor’s mouth. “Our garlic bread comes 5 pieces per basket, so you want garlic bread for everyone, so that means each person gets 1 basket?”
Whaaaaaaaaat the??? From one extreme to the other. I am so not surprised that the [dumb]waiter is the way he is, seeing that the supervisor is another moron. Long story short, (this is to spare me any more aggravation because just reiterating this story is bringing up my blood pressure) we literally had to spell out what was required so the errant oxtail soup was returned and the correct lobster bisque was brought and the fresh lobster was presented to us.
That’s still not the end of the ordeal. The steaks came. My steak, because I repeated Medium Rare 3 times, came out right. My sister however, got her fries but her steak came out medium well. Sigh. Then getting our water glasses refilled was another pain. Asking for extra cutlery (steaks came without steak knives, soups came without spoons, lobster came without accoutrements; go figure), napkins, general SERVICE of any sort was in short, agonising. This was like Chinese Water Torture. With champagne. And even getting the bill was like rolling a bowling ball up Everest. Even Jenny who's from CHINA said that the service back home wasn't quite so awful.
And how was the food? 50/50. Some things were really good – like Susan’s mango filo. Some things were just awful – like the chocolate ice cream that resembled a pile of turd, and tasted like it had gone stale. Everything else was average by usual steakhouse chain standards, which should not have been so.
Verdict?
NEVER.
EVER.
EVEN IF YOU PAID ME A THOUSAND BUCKS.
NEVER.
NEVER going back.
Like. Seriously.
