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Didier: I was warned; I walked out.


Restaurants & Bars 23

Didier: I was warned; I walked out.

mstacey42 | Jun 20, 2009 09:02 PM

My GF was going to buy me dinner tonight because of some recent overtime she had earned. We are both in our mid-twenties, but were dressed reasonably well (me: suit, no tie. Her: some kinda wacky old thing).

We have an eight o'clock res at Didier because I have heard good things about the impressive looking prix-fixe. We get there and are promptly seated, despite an odd exchange between the manager and maitre d', wherein we overhear service directions pointing us to table 50. (Nothing uncouth about this other than that we are allowed to witness the inner machinations of the restaurant's bowels in a way which I am unaccustomed to at this price-point). Our table sucks; we can see the door and receive its draft. As we are seated, we have our drink orders taken--a gin martini for her and a Manhattan for me. It is 15 minutes before a menu shows up. After we get menus we wait and wait and wait (while our drinks empty) to be given a wine-list (or bread) while other tables are fawned over. We decide---around the 25 minute mark that this is too unpleasant and that we are not paying $200 to be ignored (no matter what the food is like) and declare to the busser who finally decides to announce the specials that we would like the bill for the cocktails we ordered half an hour ago. He leaves, comes back, tells us that we will "now be made a priority," we explain that things have gone off to too bad a start and that we would rather respectfully pay and take our business somewhere else. He leaves. The manager comes over and asks what the problem is. She explains that the chef is happy to cook for us (surely that was to be assumed), that the menu is reasonably priced (insulting), that no bread or anything else is brought until orders are placed (irrelevant when you are ignored for 30 minutes) and asks if we would not like to continue our meal---all the while shaking with poorly concealed and indelicate rage. We explain that we would not--feeling sufficiently insulted and bullied.

*My girlfriend wishes that I should mention that she approached our table in a very aggressive and abrasive way.

**I feel that against my girflfriend's better judgement that I should mention that we are veterans of several european ***'s and that we have together been badly treated in lots of very local diners, dives, and barbecue restaurants across the southern states, and have never received such a cold shoulder.

We head up the road to Cava for a lovely meal at the bar. Excellent sangria. Very good Charcuterie, and a long and varied menu of Spanish treats.

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