Last night, Tobyjoe and I met Sarah, her daughter, Sarah’s aunt, and her uncle at a small Italian restaurant in Park Slope. For the remainder of this post, I will not release the name of the restaurant because, well, my mother always told me “If you don’t have anything good to say about someone, don’t use their name when talking shit.”
Tobyjoe read a review of the place before we left but not because we’re snotty. I might be snotty about my electronic equipment and my deodorant but I’m not about restaurants. We were trying to figure out how to get there and the reviews merely slapped us in the nipples. They were impossible to miss.
One reviewer writes:
Blank is very approximate in matching the menu description to what they serve. A salad was listed as including smoked salmon, but arrived without it. When I asked the waitress, she told me they couldn’t afford the salmon, and had changed the dish (though not on the menu). Pizza margarita comes without the promised basil. There’s an ad hoc quality: You won’t get what you ordered, but it’s okay. The service is really weird and hostile. One example: They literally took bread from my baby, after we ordered a brick oven pizza, not “food” (the waiter’s words). I asked if there was a minimum, which there wasn’t; he’d give us the bread only if we’d paid for it—this, after my baby had eaten of it. We’re talking small piece of Italian bread, nothing fancy. It was ridiculous. We didn’t ask for a water refill, lest he charge us.
I love it when grown adults take bread from babies.
The food wasn’t so bad, once we actually got some. The peculiar part of the evening was when the owner of the restaurant came out to inform us AFTER we waited for a half an hour for our food that the sprinkler system in the kitchen came on and soaked the entire kitchen. There was no food to be had at the Inn. But we could order pizza! He had the ability to make pizza. And the pizza was good.
Sarah’s daughter smelled something fishy and did a little investigating of her own. She looked into the kitchen and discovered that nothing was wet, even the pizza boxes were drier than an alcoholic’s mouth at dawn. Me? I could simply NOT keep from laughing. I realize that laughing at some poor gents misfortune is rather rude, the whole ordeal was oddly comical. Figuring the joke was on me, I looked around for Ashton Kutcher. But then realized that I wasn’t at all famous.
When the check came, it seemed cheap. We were all very pleased. And then when we went to pay, the price of the check went up by about 15 dollars. (Which was a warning from another review written about the restaurant.) It was, by far, one of the weirdest dining experiences I have ever had. Although, I’m not sure it would have been had it not been for our having read the reviews.
But none of that really mattered, however, because I got to hang out with the lovely Sarah. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but Sarah is a really sweet person. She has always been unbelievably kind to me (and others) in the blog world. She doesn’t succumb to petty arguments or cheap insults. Instead, she’s quick to cheer someone up when they’re down and quick to make someone laugh when they’re grumpy. She’s always been quick to email a kind word. I’d take a quirky night out at a seemingly foodless restaurant any day to hang out with Sarah.
Oh geez,I’m still laughing! I take full responsibility for the restaurant but only partial credit for Sarah; she and her little imp are the best, truly.
This was hilarious…I had no idea you had found bad reviews about the place! You are so sweet not to say anything then. Thank goodness the pizza was good.
It was fantastic to meet you in person…and than you so much for the nice things you say about me—you are just as sweet to me.
P.S…favor to ask. Could you delete the kiddo’s first name from here? I know it might be silly, but I prefer not to use her name on the Internet. “S” is fine. Thank you!
Places like that should have their name plastered all around New York City.
Then again, I’m the kind of guy who once left as a tip the note “You’re not a very good waitress. I suggest you take some lessons on how to be a good waitress from a co-worker, or get another job. Making people wait 40 minutes for a menu , 30 for a check , and never refilling water or checking in while the three tables around were halfway through their third sitting of people is just unacceptable.”
The restaurant was Vera Cruz on Bedford. I complained to the manager on the way out who then bitched at me that ‘there must have been an issue out of the waitresses control’. I’ve never been back since , and will never go again.
The waitress was seriously the rudest , worst , waitress I’ve ever had – she’s even worse than that bitch who worked sundays at enids and would refill your coffee non-stop if you looked trendy enough, but wouldn’t give you the time of day otherwise.
Jonathan, what did she look like? We’ve been there a few times and have had sketchy service. Normally, sugar, I would do the same. But this place was different. It was so freaking heartbreaking, I just didn’t even have it in me to even conjure anger. I have to state, for the record (and you can ask Tobyjoe to back this up) normally, I am very, very vocal when someeone is rude. I have walked out of numerous places and let them know why. I have also praised places as I don’t always like to state what’s bad about a place.
This time, I dunno why, but it was very different.
Tell me more about your vera cruz waitress. Also, you should write a review on Freewilliamsburg.com.
For example, we haven’t been back to Sea since they smooshed a roach in front of me on the table without an apology or care in the world. So freaking disgusting. I don’t care how many times Sex and The City was filmed there.
Plus, the clientele bring tight-pant induced yeast infections to a criminal new level.
The waitress @ vera cruz was a latina , around a size 14-18 , who looked like one of those goth-ish girls in southern california who listen to morrisey too much.
I think that might be the most accurate description I’ve ever written of someone 2yrs later – she just stuck out in my mind so much.
The bitch at enids is short with facial skin that is leathered from smoking too much. whenever i go there and she’s about to seat me, i fake getting a phone call and let her seat the person behind me ( like I’m doing something nice, HA!) , and then i get a better waitress.
there was this girl there on sundays who was very plain , quiet and unassuming. fuckng super waitress – forget about asking for a refill, she kept everyone’s coffee topped. i always give her a big tip.
Thanks for removing the kiddo’s name. ;-)
I didn’t find any of them rude there, did you? If they were rude about the whole thing I would have been pissed, but I thought the owner was very nice to us. I did think perhaps they would have given us a free pizza or something for our troubles, however. I would have if it was my restaurant.
Well, they did allow our tin-foil-hat espinonage, after all.
One woman who works at Enid’s will forever have my heart. I am drawing a blank on her name now. She’s friends with a friend of mine and she’s the one who threw the Brooklyn Loves Nola benefit last year. Great gal. She’s tallish, brown hair, really sweet and a great waitress. I always treat her well when I see her. Would love to get to know her better (if you know what I mean). I kid.
Have you tried the new Korean BBQ joint? It’s pretty great, kinda fun, too. Got a horrid write up by one person on Free Williamsburg and the owner got on there saying how sorry he was and that the next time they are in he’ll give ‘em a free meal. Read it here.
nico, that’s what I said.
If they are, I wanna be on the Jersey side of operations, however. Or the Manhattan side assuming Brooklyn’s mafia is separate, you know, like the Roller Derby gals are kept separate.
why no love for the home town?
i got love, just not sure I got faith in their abilities to pull one over on anyone.
Hi there – I’m a blogging friend of Sarah’s so I stopped by to check your post about the evening out. I noticed that you have lived in DC and San Fran – those are the two US cities I’ve never resided, but always said I could/would/should. If you are coming to TequilaCon next weekend, I’ll see you there!
Sarah does indeed seem to be a super maxi mega cool lady. And she digs the porn.