Troppo sopratavola

[muckefuck]

A couple of buddies coming into town from Madison for Bear Game Night wanted to take advantage of Restaurant Week in Chicago so they plugged in the address, looked for nearby places offering specials, and ended up landing a table at Francesca's Bryn Mawr. I have fond memories of eating there with monshu from when he lived in the neighbourhood (was that really three-and-a-half years ago now?) so I told them it was a good place. Perhaps it still is and this was simply an off night?

There were four of us, including their Goldilocks (who, as it turns out, is practically my neighbour)--a former kitchen worker herself--and at her suggestion, we all went for the special prix fixe menu in order to "make it easier for the kitchen" to get the timing right. I sure don't want to see what it would've been like if we'd made it hard for them. monshu and I had brunched late at Big Jones so I wasn't particularly hungry and was slow notice how long the food was in arriving (although it did strike me that it took me surprisingly long to get my Negroni). When the waiter came by and asked if we'd already had our calamari, I actually misunderstood the question.

He returned moments later and made some semicoherent excuse about the ticket being printed at the wrong register. He apparently had to resubmit. When they finally arrived, the portions were well prepared but worryingly large--particularly for my more peckish companions who had been filling up on bread. (We joked about sending one of them home with her entree boxed up and she basically did exactly that.) After that, the salad course, which in my case was four tender spears of asparagus topped with bleu cheese and chopped tomatoes.

Then the pasta course and another kitchen screw-up: one plate of rigatoni and one of ravioli getting cold before the waiter finally checked in again and had pointed out to him that two of us hadn't been served. Another attempt to explain how the kitchen misread the ticket followed by another long wait for the next course. Soon after finishing his chicken, our driver had to rush off and see to the meter; he'd bought two hours never dreaming we'd need that much.

In fact, I'm glad he hadn't asked me my advice, because I would've recommended buying only one. I never seen Francesca's fall down that badly before; I couldn't see the kitchen from where I was sitting, but in my head a Kitchen Nightmares scenario was playing out. Reminder: this was a special set menu for Restaurant Week--their opportunity to pick up future customers by putting their best foot forward and banging out their quickest best dishes. We though we'd be at Game Night by 7:30, 8 p.m. at the latest; it was already nine when we walked through the door.

Now 2-2.5 hrs for a five-course meal is perfectly reasonable if everyone is lingering and drinking a la italiana, but we pretty much devoured everything as it arrived and then were left killing time before the next course. I have to give credit to my dinner companions for taking it all (mostly) in stride, even though it was clearly a spendier meal for them than it was for me. At the end of it all, we were bribed with some complimentary moscato to accompany our average tiramisù and pistachio ice cream profiteroles, but if there was an apology for the screw ups, I never heard it. So, yeah, I probably won't be back again without good cause.

Besides, one of the chief reasons why monshu and I started patronising that Francesca's in the first place was that our favourite splurge restaurant in the area shut down in 2007. Now that Pasteur has reopened in the same location with the same menu, well, what reason is there to waste my time with it? Mmm...Saigonese duck! Bo buc lac!

Comments

[gopower.livejournal.com]

Went to Pasteur on Friday. Indifferent service despite a middling-sized crowd. The beef curry was only barely curry. The chicken clay pot / chicken fried rice was also very bland (though it was much better as leftovers the next day). The soup was the only thing with flavor, though the waiter brought us two of the beef instead of the second we ordered.

Not the best relaunch imaginable.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Bugger.