Rodzilla Reviews

Post Title: Eating with Assholes

Post Date: January 28, 2013

From now on, the only asshole I’m eating with is myself. Really. The only thing I hate more than shitty service is people who treat the service like shit. Rant started.

Now, blatant negligence is one thing; otherwise, don’t be an ass. There’s nothing wrong with offering feedback on likes and dislikes; that’s a way to ensure quality or make things better. It’s even okay to be critical, so long as it’s meant to be constructive, not insulting.

So, here are a few things to keep in mind before giving your thoughts on that restaurant, meal, dish, or component that wasn’t quite to your tastes. At least, if you’re planning to offer them to me.

You’re not the only diner in the restaurant

As much as I’m sure the chef would love to provide a custom tasting menu accommodating your 17 different dietary restrictions in the middle of rush on a holiday weekend, it’s not always feasible.

The waitress at the neighborhood bistro let your water glass stay empty for an entire minute?! That shit would never happen at Per Se…but you’re not at Per Se, and you’re not going to die of thirst.

Nobody is trying to serve you bad food

So don’t act like it. You won’t like everything, and mistakes will happen, but I promise you the chef isn’t scheming in the kitchen to figure out ways to piss you off.

There’s more to a menu price than ingredient costs

Oh, you know the wholesale price, or saw it for less at the farmers’ market? You’re also paying for labor, skill, the setting, and the cost to keep the lights on. If you’re expecting to eat “at cost,” then you’re going to have to cook it for yourself at home.

Your actions reflect on your entire party

So, if you act like a douche and you’re sitting at my table, I end up looking like even more of a douche by association. That’s the last thing I need.

Being an asshole is not funny

It’s not hard to be clever and cutting. No one is impressed with your witty simile comparing the food to something inedible, especially not the waiter. It takes a lot more skill to cleverly describe something you liked than it does to be insulting.

Check your ego

For all the talk of chefs with big egos, there are diners out there with bigger ones.

I don’t care if you’ve eaten all over the world or had better in L.A., Copenhagen, or Spain, for that matter. That doesn’t make it okay to belittle. If your palate is so refined, mention a few things you like. Not every dish has to be exquisite for it to be enjoyable, and your incessant nit-picking is killing everyone else’s good time.

Treat others like...

You know the rest of this one. If you’re disrespectful to the service team, you’re more than an asshole, you’re missing out on an opportunity to have a really enjoyable experience.... [A]nd if you really don’t like it, don’t go back. There’s a natural cycle to these things; if it’s that bad, then the place won’t last. You can save yourself the effort of trying to ruin reputations with your personal vendetta. End rant.

---

Post Title: TBL3

Post Date: November 21, 2012

I first set my sights on TBL3 nearly two and a half years ago. Expectations can be built quite high over such a long time, but even so, I wasn’t disappointed.

Carrot — coffee, yogurt, carrot jam 

The tenth course, a point in most tastings reserved for heavier, protein-focused dishes. To me, this felt like Chef Foshee’s way of saying, “Yes, vegetables really are a focus here.” Foshee brought out a large clay planting pot where the carrots had been roasted in a soil of coffee, salt, star-anise, and egg white. After a table-side foraging, they were placed atop a housemade yogurt — its strong tangy flavor cut perfectly by inherently sweet purple carrot jam. I’ve enjoyed many vegetable courses, but few have changed the way I thought about them. Here it was on the savory side of sweet, and anything but an afterthought.