Hi again! I know what you're thinking--two posts in one day? Yes, well, I have a good reason. I mean, it's as good a reason to blog as any reason to blog. Chris and I just went to the WORST restaurant we've EVER been to! It's a little thrilling to say that actually. I can't wait to write about it, hence the late-night blog.
OK, here we go. So, this afternoon, Chris and I decided to use a gift certificate we'd gotten to Picosa, so I called to make a reservation. I think I should have been alerted to how bad things were going to be by the fact that, when I asked for a table at 7:30 or 8, the guy laughed and said "Oh, no problem, you can come either time!" in a way that implied he didn't expect anyone to be there.
Anyway, we arrived and realized the street parking available was lined with meters that are monitored every day until midnight. That's not the restaurant's fault, but it's just an irritation. We fished as many quarters as we could find out of our pockets, purses and jackets, which bought us 1 hour and 15 minutes. I thought that should be enough time to go in and have a moderately-paced dinner.
We were seated at 8:00. No one acknowledged us after that for awhile. We sat there for about 15 minutes before a sweet but sort of harassed-looking waitress came over to take our drink orders. I ordered a vodka tonic and Chris got a bottle of beer. I'm not a certified bartender, but I don't think those drinks require 20 minutes to make. Why we had to wait that long is a bit of a riddle wrapped in a mystery. Finally, they arrived, sans glass of water, which just meant that I drank my drink like water and spent a portion of the evening in a boozy fog. This, I think is why I didn't mind waiting almost an hour for my first course. Chris had duck empanadas with some sort of sauce-trio (one of which was orange and, surprise-surprise, tasted of oranges), and I had a shrimp, scallop and asparagus thing that was pretty OK. Midway through his first course, Chris commented that his empanadas tasted like a chicken bake, which is a British fast-food thing, like a hand-held chicken pot pie. In any case, it wasn't a compliment. When the waitress eventually got to our table to clear the plates, she informed us we should keep our silverware (just like at Grandma's on Thanksgiving!).
After our little dishes, we got a plate of tacos to share. The waitress brought out a single plate, but then offered to go back and get a second plate. Not wanting to ask too much of her, and not wanting to wait that long, we just said we'd share. Now...tacos aren't really a thing that you can eat without a plate underneath you. We ended up taking turns eating. My tacos (beef and veggie) were pretty bland. The beef one tasted like taking a big bite of a roast beef dinner with sour cream. Even the guacamole was bland. Chris looked decidedly disappointed while eating the pork and chicken tacos. When it was over, the waitress didn't come over for another 20 minutes. At that point, our meter had run out about 20 minutes ago. I did one more search for quarters, but found none. Chris took a pitiful handful of change to the bar and had it converted into two quarters, which bought us 30 more minutes at Picosa. We needed them.
We decided to use the rest of the gift certificate, even though every ounce of ourselves were urging us to drop the payment on the table and run away. The poor waitress came back and we ordered a piece of tres leche cake. When it arrived almost 25 minutes later, it was good, but by then we were just ready to leave.
In short, the food was alright and the service was teeeerrrrriiibbbblle! Just effing terrible!
That's all. Happy Sunday!
xo
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