During those heady days in San Diego over Christmas break, I had grand ideas of writing more this year, getting some serious writing projects finished (in hopes of making some money in this field) and generally not being such a hermit.
Well, it's the end of February and while I have written quite a bit of disjointed thoughts I haven't seen fit to share any with the rest of the world. The other projects need some attention too. Oh well, as I always say; "I'm getting to it".
Regardless, I have been longing for my days as a restaurant reviewer and have been keeping some notes. These are silly thoughts about Fast Food, but I thought I would put this up for someone who asked my opinion on a couple of items.
More writing to come. As the days get longer, my mood elevates and writing becomes less of a chore.
And now, some stupid thoughts on Fast Food:
Best Quality Boutique Fast Food is: 5 Guys Burgers & Fries
It's simply always fresh and cooked to order. You can configure the burger to please any personal tastes you have. Opinions can vary on the fries, but if you don't like them, the burger should more than make up for it.
**I call it boutique because they aren't everywhere and it is a level more expensive than regular fast food places
Best Regular Fast Food: Wendy's
Reliable, freshly cooked (unless it's within an hour of closing) and no more expensive than other crap out there.
Wendy's always seems to have a slightly better class of employees and cleaner restaurants than many other fast food establishments
Worst Regular Fast Food: Burger King Breakfasts
Burger King is all microwaved food and for breakfast, it simply ruins the damn food. The croissant/bun/biscuit, whatever always gets soggy and almost 90% of the time, regardless of the BK I have gone to, the damn center of the sandwich is still cold. Learn how to microwave you damn monkeys...
I have gotten frozen Jimmy Dean sandwiches at the grocery that I microwave and they come out a hundred percent better than everything at BK.
Best drive through when drinking: Taco Bell
The employees just seem to know you have regrets for being there and they take on a Psychologist role and help you through the ordering process. Somehow they are able to convince you to buy a 1/2 pound beef burrito for a dollar fifty nine when in the back of your head you know that you can't buy a half pound of any type of beef in the grocery for that amount.
The sauces, cheeses and alcohol make their "beef" palatable and if you get rid of the wrappers, bag and receipt before you get home it will be a little secret between only you, your colon and your toilet.
Best tasting ripoff: Regular Subway Sandwiches
With Subway, everything is the "upsell". If you dress your sandwich in the restaurant equivalent of leather interior, blue tooth, navigation and HID lights then the sub will be great. Yes, if you get extra meat, bacon and make it a foot long, then you will probably enjoy your subway experience, but if you get the sandwich as it appears on the menu, you're screwed.
For your money you get about 75 cents worth of cold cuts, wilted veggies and a jaw straining about of bread that's only there to make you think you are getting something of value.
They taste pretty good, but Subway isn't a value.
Best Classic: Quarter Pounder with Cheese
What American kid didn't grow up aspiring to the days when he could graduate from the shitty toy sized burger in the Happy Meal to the glorious Quarter Pounder with Cheese that their father ate?
It's an unpretentious sandwich. No frilly additions, it's just an honest burger.
If you are lucky, it will come out fresh from the grill (and not from the brown plastic condensation drawer that McD uses) and it will be greasy.
Regardless of the fact that it's been 20 years since McD meat actually tasted like, or had the consistency of, beef that regular persons can buy, it's the neat combination of chemicals and "stuff" that McDonalds uses to train our brain to believe it's the real thing.
The elemental mood spike and surge of endorphins I can get from a greasy Quarter Pounder with Cheese is amazing. It will kill me, but what is there that's worth it, that won't.
Best thing I have tried this month: BK Burger Shots
Yes, they are fucking microwaved, and yes they come in a 6 pack box and they are oddly connected to each other and it makes it look like you are eating an entire meatloaf by yourself, but there is something good about them.
Since I don't have a White Castle or Krystal in my area where I can soak all of my food shame, these BK Burger Shots will have to suffice. In reality, it's just regular small burgers cut differently and put on cute little buns, but the marketing make it so much more.
The squirt of ketchup and mustard that was certainly metered for the big burgers is KIND OF OVERWHELMING on the tiny treats, but the strong mustard taste fills in for BK's usual wet, microwaved beef taste that they have been going with for the last 20 years.
Get 'em while they are hot (actually, tepid from the microwave) because this marketing genius will certainly be replaced by some other innovation soon.
Showing posts with label Restaurant Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Restaurant Review. Show all posts
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Friday, October 17, 2008
From the Archives: Delish Express
Another of my often requested articles. This one is about, legend, Virgil Sadorra's Delish Express that opened back in 2007. The place has only gotten better since I wrote this.
Let's hope the menu items from the original Delish are coming back in some format soon.
Enjoy.
The Return of the King
Delish Express
I just looked up the word “Icon”. Certainly, I know how it’s used in conversation, but I wanted to double-check before using it in writing.
Icon: A person or thing that is the best example of a certain profession or some doing.
Charleston restaurateur and local legend, Virgil Sadorra is solidifying his empire with the new Delish Express. Icon seems a suitable way to describe Mr. Virgil Sadorra and he is back with his twist on a simple and sandwich, soup and salad place. Of course, since it’s from the mind of Mr. Sadorra, it’s so much more than just a simple sandwich place.
Delish Express takes its name from Virgil’s first restaurant, the beloved “Delish”. His first effort was located on McFarland Street. The central location quickly made Delish it the “it” lunch spot and the place to be seen in downtown Charleston.
But then it happened. Like the cruel third act of a Greek Tragedy, Delish was taken away by a fire. Charleston lost one of its most unique and popular restaurants. Years later, people still lament the loss of that tiny but very special restaurant.
Virgil didn’t let a fire keep him down and he did return to McFarland Street with Cilantro’s. It’s his vision on west coast style tex-mex. It’s popular and always packed at lunch, but that’s only one of the bullets in Virgil’s restaurant gun.
From a dining perspective, the East-end is a seriously under served part of Charleston. The workers at the Capitol previously had to rely on their own infamous cafeteria or they could venture out and eat at Wendy’s, Rally’s or Subway. Sure, those are sometimes suitable for a quick lunch, but rotating through those choices over a period of time is enough to drive anyone crazy.
Virgil swept in and purchased a building close enough to the Capitol for the lunch crowd. A side benefit is bringing a vital business to a long empty building (and Neighborhood). Delish Express, along with other new businesses, like Bluegrass Kitchen, finally gives people in this neighborhood a place they can go for a fantastic meal.
You’ll find ample parking next to the building. It is odd, however, that the parking lot is equipped with parking meters, but for those of us accustomed to downtown life, it’s not too much of a burden. Besides, those meters will keep people from abusing the parking, thereby robbing Delish Express of spaces for its customers.
The building is bright and fresh and everything you see simply must be brand new. Your seating options include multiple tables, a long bench and some stools on the upper level which are mostly occupied by people awaiting their “To Go” orders. The inside will seat approximately 20-25 people and the outdoor patio almost doubles the capacity.
The process is that you get your own menu and check off the selections you want to be included on your sandwich or in your salad. The little menu is almost overwhelming at first, but it’s not a complex process. You select your bread, meat and cheese and then go wild on the wide array of vegetables.
The bread options alone mean that you can have a traditional Panini on thin grilled bread or a heartier sandwich on a Ciabatta Roll or Focaccia bread. Additionally, the breads can be topped with infused butters (garlic, lime, ginger, etc.) for an added punch to your sandwich that almost none of us do at home.
The meats and cheeses provide so many combinations that you could easily never have the same sandwich twice.
For the less adventurous, Delish Express does have chalkboard menus that offer some signature sandwiches and just reading through the ingredients one wonders how those sandwiches aren’t ordered every single time. How about a Grilled Chicken on Focaccia infused with ginger butter or a Portabella Mushroom sandwich on a Ciabatta roll with Roma Tomatoes.
My suggestion is to grab a menu to go and take it back to your office. Scan it in or just make a copy and you will be able to leisurely choose your options before heading to the actual restaurant.
The line can often reach to the front door, but don’t let your heart be troubled. Even in the first two weeks after opening, Virgil’s crew worked with decent speed and that daunting line moved rather quickly.
Once you do reach the register, you simply turn in your menu, choose your drink and pay the unbelievably reasonable price for your food. The sandwiches range from about $5.00 and can get up to around $9.00 if you add some extra options such as extra meat.
The treat at the register is getting to see the true “sandwich artists” working on the food right before your eyes. On my first visit, I was able to spot Virgil himself in the rear of the restaurant running a sharp knife through some vegetables while members of his staff looked on. I am not sure if was an impromptu training session or if he just wanted to show off for the assembled masses.
On the next visit, the chalkboard beckoned and I couldn’t resist ordering a cup of soup. I paired it with a Virginia Ham Sandwich on a Ciabatta Roll with infused butter and a heaping selection of the freshest and most lovingly prepared vegetables.
On that day, the other soup choices were Chicken with Rice and Potato and Cheese. I left my selection to one of Virgil’s talented employees and got the Fire Roasted Tomato Soup.
Of course, the sandwich was a treat, but this soup was clearly the star of this meal. It was presented in a nicely sized (to go) cup and even when I got back to my office it was still showing a nice garnish of herbs and a huge slice of actual roasted tomato in the soup. This was a thick and hearty soup that had such a deep and complex roasted tomato flavor that it was almost overwhelming. I say almost because this was some of the best soup I have ever consumed.
The one thing I haven’t yet tried is the salads. With the quality of hand cut, fresh, vegetables on the sandwiches how could it be possible that the salads aren’t amazing? With selections such as Spring Mix with Goat Cheese and Spinach and Mandarin Orange, you can go wildly exotic or just get something traditional. Delish Express will construct anything your heart desires.
With the soothing orange and pale yellow paint, the nice local Charleston art pictures on the wall and the knowledge that the food will be amazing, it’s almost as if your stress level drops the moment you enter the restaurant.
Delish Express is a complete treat. It will bring you to a neighborhood where you probably haven’t considered eating, it will give you sandwiches and food that you can’t get anywhere else and your patronage is supports a Charleston visionary. You can’t go wrong with a trip to Delish Express.
Let's hope the menu items from the original Delish are coming back in some format soon.
Enjoy.
The Return of the King
Delish Express
I just looked up the word “Icon”. Certainly, I know how it’s used in conversation, but I wanted to double-check before using it in writing.
Icon: A person or thing that is the best example of a certain profession or some doing.
Charleston restaurateur and local legend, Virgil Sadorra is solidifying his empire with the new Delish Express. Icon seems a suitable way to describe Mr. Virgil Sadorra and he is back with his twist on a simple and sandwich, soup and salad place. Of course, since it’s from the mind of Mr. Sadorra, it’s so much more than just a simple sandwich place.
Delish Express takes its name from Virgil’s first restaurant, the beloved “Delish”. His first effort was located on McFarland Street. The central location quickly made Delish it the “it” lunch spot and the place to be seen in downtown Charleston.
But then it happened. Like the cruel third act of a Greek Tragedy, Delish was taken away by a fire. Charleston lost one of its most unique and popular restaurants. Years later, people still lament the loss of that tiny but very special restaurant.
Virgil didn’t let a fire keep him down and he did return to McFarland Street with Cilantro’s. It’s his vision on west coast style tex-mex. It’s popular and always packed at lunch, but that’s only one of the bullets in Virgil’s restaurant gun.
From a dining perspective, the East-end is a seriously under served part of Charleston. The workers at the Capitol previously had to rely on their own infamous cafeteria or they could venture out and eat at Wendy’s, Rally’s or Subway. Sure, those are sometimes suitable for a quick lunch, but rotating through those choices over a period of time is enough to drive anyone crazy.
Virgil swept in and purchased a building close enough to the Capitol for the lunch crowd. A side benefit is bringing a vital business to a long empty building (and Neighborhood). Delish Express, along with other new businesses, like Bluegrass Kitchen, finally gives people in this neighborhood a place they can go for a fantastic meal.
You’ll find ample parking next to the building. It is odd, however, that the parking lot is equipped with parking meters, but for those of us accustomed to downtown life, it’s not too much of a burden. Besides, those meters will keep people from abusing the parking, thereby robbing Delish Express of spaces for its customers.
The building is bright and fresh and everything you see simply must be brand new. Your seating options include multiple tables, a long bench and some stools on the upper level which are mostly occupied by people awaiting their “To Go” orders. The inside will seat approximately 20-25 people and the outdoor patio almost doubles the capacity.
The process is that you get your own menu and check off the selections you want to be included on your sandwich or in your salad. The little menu is almost overwhelming at first, but it’s not a complex process. You select your bread, meat and cheese and then go wild on the wide array of vegetables.
The bread options alone mean that you can have a traditional Panini on thin grilled bread or a heartier sandwich on a Ciabatta Roll or Focaccia bread. Additionally, the breads can be topped with infused butters (garlic, lime, ginger, etc.) for an added punch to your sandwich that almost none of us do at home.
The meats and cheeses provide so many combinations that you could easily never have the same sandwich twice.
For the less adventurous, Delish Express does have chalkboard menus that offer some signature sandwiches and just reading through the ingredients one wonders how those sandwiches aren’t ordered every single time. How about a Grilled Chicken on Focaccia infused with ginger butter or a Portabella Mushroom sandwich on a Ciabatta roll with Roma Tomatoes.
My suggestion is to grab a menu to go and take it back to your office. Scan it in or just make a copy and you will be able to leisurely choose your options before heading to the actual restaurant.
The line can often reach to the front door, but don’t let your heart be troubled. Even in the first two weeks after opening, Virgil’s crew worked with decent speed and that daunting line moved rather quickly.
Once you do reach the register, you simply turn in your menu, choose your drink and pay the unbelievably reasonable price for your food. The sandwiches range from about $5.00 and can get up to around $9.00 if you add some extra options such as extra meat.
The treat at the register is getting to see the true “sandwich artists” working on the food right before your eyes. On my first visit, I was able to spot Virgil himself in the rear of the restaurant running a sharp knife through some vegetables while members of his staff looked on. I am not sure if was an impromptu training session or if he just wanted to show off for the assembled masses.
On the next visit, the chalkboard beckoned and I couldn’t resist ordering a cup of soup. I paired it with a Virginia Ham Sandwich on a Ciabatta Roll with infused butter and a heaping selection of the freshest and most lovingly prepared vegetables.
On that day, the other soup choices were Chicken with Rice and Potato and Cheese. I left my selection to one of Virgil’s talented employees and got the Fire Roasted Tomato Soup.
Of course, the sandwich was a treat, but this soup was clearly the star of this meal. It was presented in a nicely sized (to go) cup and even when I got back to my office it was still showing a nice garnish of herbs and a huge slice of actual roasted tomato in the soup. This was a thick and hearty soup that had such a deep and complex roasted tomato flavor that it was almost overwhelming. I say almost because this was some of the best soup I have ever consumed.
The one thing I haven’t yet tried is the salads. With the quality of hand cut, fresh, vegetables on the sandwiches how could it be possible that the salads aren’t amazing? With selections such as Spring Mix with Goat Cheese and Spinach and Mandarin Orange, you can go wildly exotic or just get something traditional. Delish Express will construct anything your heart desires.
With the soothing orange and pale yellow paint, the nice local Charleston art pictures on the wall and the knowledge that the food will be amazing, it’s almost as if your stress level drops the moment you enter the restaurant.
Delish Express is a complete treat. It will bring you to a neighborhood where you probably haven’t considered eating, it will give you sandwiches and food that you can’t get anywhere else and your patronage is supports a Charleston visionary. You can’t go wrong with a trip to Delish Express.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The Art of the complaint (or, Adventures at Fifth Quarter)
I got a request for this article which was originally published in early 2007.
This is a late draft version so it's not perfect but I know several people enjoyed it.
The Art of the Complaint
Adventures at Fifth Quarter
It was a weekend evening and we were in the car trying to decide on dinner. I didn’t want to go to Southridge and deal with the crowds and the traffic. The Town Center presented many options but paying for parking and fighting crowds for the Basketball Tournament didn’t seem too enticing either.
After driving around Charleston for about twenty minutes we decided on The Fifth Quarter. In spite of being adjacent to The Civic Center, all the basketball people were instead streaming across the street to The Town Center and its trendier restaurant choices.
It’s prime location notwithstanding, The Fifth Quarter seems almost ignored by the great hoards of people who flock to the big box restaurants in the Southridge area. I rarely see the parking lot more than half full and I never hear anyone talking about going to The Fifth Quarter.
When I was growing up, there were two steakhouses in Charleston. Everyone had their prom at either “Steak and Ale” (long closed, MacCorkle Ave, across from Haddad Riverfront Park) or “The Fifth Quarter”.
Somewhat later, in my early twenties, The Fifth Quarter was locally famous for their “All you could eat Prime Rib and Crab Leg” specials. The place used to be packed to overflowing by people enjoying the great steaks and very famous salad bar (which was a cut above what everyone else was offering at the time)
I spent many an evening in The Fifth Quarter enjoying slab after slab of excellent, all you can eat, Prime Rib. A friend and I even once took a small portable television to our quiet table so we could watch a football game while stuffing ourselves with prime rib.
This restaurant was a downtown highlight and its quiet and private interior, including the dimly lit bar, have been witness of birth of more than a few local marriages (and divorces).
At some point in the 1990’s the restaurant closed. I don’t know the history, but I know that it must have fallen on some sort of hard times and one day it was gone.
The twist is that there was some kind of groundswell of support that led someone to re-open the restaurant. And that’s how we arrive at 2007. The restaurant has been open again for years and is apparently keeping enough customers happy to keep the lights on.
The old saying is that “you can never go home again” or basically that you shouldn’t try and re-live the great memories from your youth because you will nearly always end up disappointed. Unfortunately, this is how my visit to The Fifth Quarter played out.
We walked inside the restaurant and I was struck by how the interior looks exactly like it did twenty years ago. I remember standing in the exact same lobby and hallway in my tuxedo during my prom.
The rustic wood paneling that was so chic when I was a kid now sort of looks dated and cheap. I think the little podium that the greeter leans against is the exact same one that was there in 1987.
The host looked up from his doodling and I advised it was a party of two and that I wanted a booth. Yes, I requested a booth. I had already deduced that since the lobby looked the same, I figured the dining rooms were still the comfortable, very private, booths along the perimeter and standard tables and chairs throughout the center of the room. Well, I hate sitting in the middle of the room so I wanted a booth.
The host, more or less, ignored my request and seated us at a booth-table. It’s one of those half booths that I always assumed were to accommodate persons in wheelchairs. We were tucked in a far corner and I got to sit in a chair while my date was in a booth whose cushion was also a holdover from the 1980’s. She said that the lower cushion was in such a state of disrepair that she would have been more comfortable sitting on her own ankle.
As I grumbled about the host ignoring my request by escorting us past several unoccupied booths, I noted that the room was at, probably, 40% capacity. There was a large group, in excess of 15 people, who were seated by pulling several tables together. There were some couples and families around the room. The disturbing fellow seated less than 2 feet from our table was creepy. He was sitting alone at his table with empty food plates and was reading something. He seemed to react to our every conversation. The creepy fellow eventually left, but his attention to what we were discussing was just another level of disappointment and we had only been in the building for about 5 minutes.
A young man eventually came to our table and introduced himself as our waiter. My date requested a soft drink and I requested a Guinness on tap. He didn’t know if it was available on tap, but he would find out.
Five to ten minutes passed (he was taking orders at several tables around the room) before he returned with our drinks. Sadly, my Guinness was in a bottle and had been open so long that it was warm and flat. Yes, I am being picky, but anyone that serves Guinness needs to know the proper way to do it. The bartender had apparently opened this bottle but the waiter let it sit for a long time. It’s unacceptable, but I didn’t have the energy to complain. The waiter appeared to be tending to almost every table in the room and it looked like he had his hands full.
The menu was extensive. It’s pretty much standard steakhouse fare and was exactly what I expected. The menu has changed from my youth and there is certainly a wider selection of foods than I remember.
Appetizers from $7 to $15 bucks, soups, salads, pastas, chicken, steaks and ribs. It’s all pretty much the entrees and cuts of meat that you would expect. The prices are a step above most of the big franchise steak places.
One trick that I remember from prior visits, to jack up the price, is that the very inviting, and beautiful, salad bar is not included with the entrees. A house or Caesar salad is included, but if you want access to the bar, it’s an additional $2.49. With most entrees averaging $20, and some steaks nearing $30, I consider it somewhat insulting that one must cough up more money to use the salad bar.
I will say that the best steakhouses in big cities all operate this way. Everything is a la carte’ and you pay for each item on your plate. Vegetables are five to seven bucks more, a baked potato is another five to seven bucks. It is standard fare at expensive restaurants, but I just don’t think The Fifth Quarter is on that level. This place is competing with entry level quick dining restaurants and you simply get more for your dollar at other places.
I worked through my warm and flat Guinness and tried to reassure my date that in spite of her uncomfortable booth cushion she would have a good meal.
Our waiter was running around like mad. He was clearly overwhelmed and didn’t return to our table for quite a while. In fact, I watched him take the order from, and deliver bread, salads and drinks to a table that were seated after us. I may not have noticed these other people but they were sitting in one of the booths that our host walked past when seating us.
There appeared to only be one other waiter in the entire room. These two guys both had artful variations of facial hair and these two guys almost looked like twins. I could only tell them apart by their shirt color. There simply had to be some sort of wait staff problem on this evening as my recollections of The Fifth Quarter were always of a platoon of nicely dressed, and presented, professional type waitresses who were always everywhere you looked. In fact, some of my best memories of service are from The Fifth Quarter. They simply did an amazing job tending to their tables and you got the feeling they were doing their job as a career and not just something they do part time while in school.
These two guys were doing all they could do to tend to their tables, but it was failing miserably. We waited way too long to make our order, refills didn’t come until long after the glass was empty and it just got worse by the minute.
The waiter eventually arrived at our table and we got him to stand still long enough to take our order. For me, it was Prime Rib. For my date, Blackened Chicken Alfredo.
I told him that I wanted medium rare Prime Rib. Mind you, this is a place where I have had hundreds of cuts of Prime Rib. The menu even defines “Medium Rare” as red with warm center. They have never gotten my order wrong…...well, keep reading.
Soon, some bread came and since we didn’t get any appetizers, we each consumed some of this decent, but unremarkable, standard steakhouse bread.
I had selected the $2.49 salad bar on top of my $22.99 cut of Prime Rib. The salad bar is the exact configuration and probably the exact same pewter containers that I remember from the 1980’s. However, this bit of nostalgia is not a bad thing. Everything on the salad bar looked fresh and the bar was surgically clean and nothing was out of place. 45 minutes in and I finally find something to like.
I returned to the table to find my date eating her kitchen prepared salad that was included with her meal. After spying my amazing concoction from the bar, she was more than a bit annoyed with the, technically pretty, but otherwise bland and tasteless salad that she had to endure.
We finished our salads and were more than ready (and probably an hour in at this point) when the waiter arrived with our dinner.
You know that moment of thrill that comes when a waiter places a piping hot dish in front of you. That first instant of eye contact with some amazing looking food……well, neither of us experienced that on this evening.
Her Blackened Chicken Alfredo was a small bowl of pasta with a pale orange “sauce” and with some curious looking chicken on top. I say curious looking because it looked like airplane food. It was too “blackened”. It looked like those frozen, processed, chicken patties that you can buy in places that do not have an actual grill. The grill marks and blackened areas were just too perfect. It looked like prop food. This was not a high quality piece of chicken. From the looks and ultimately to the dry taste, it was not what she expected to receive.
Amazingly, the bland and processed chicken wasn’t the worst part of the dish. The alfredo sauce was a new low in restaurant sauces. This gelatinous mass was clearly not a real sauce. After a taste she instantly, and forcefully, stated that she was absolutely sure this was Campbell’s Cheddar Cheese Soup. I tried it and, yes, I am sure she was correct. I have Campbell’s Cheddar Cheese Soup all the time and I would bet money that this was the exact same stuff.
This was a $9.99 entrée and from what we could tell, it contained processed, surely frozen chicken, about 15 cents worth of pasta and a ninety-nine cent can of cheese soup. It was a complete representation, utterly inedible and she stopped almost immediately.
I was concurrently discovering one of the worst pieces of Prime Rib ever served. This grey colored slab of meat was cold to the touch, was utterly devoid of any form of moisture whatsoever. This piece of meat simply couldn’t have been cooked on this calendar date. Also on the plate was a pitiful ice cream scoop of mashed potatoes that were equally bad. I have had box-mix potatoes prepared in a college dorm room that tasted better than these.
I sat there, head in my hands, and wondered how this was possible. What was I supposed to do? Why did this restaurant burden me with this decision making process? All I wanted to do was come here, have a good meal and spend 50-70 bucks in the process. Now I have to determine how I am going to handle this mess.
How do I tell the waiter that, so far, with the exception of the salad bar, everything he has delivered is worse than dog food? Do I play good cop or bad cop? Hell, I even considered just walking out.
Luckily (sarcasm), I was able to stew over this decision for quite a while because the waiter took his sweet time to return to our table. Both of our drinks were long empty and our plates remained largely untouched.
Eventually we made eye contact and he came to the table looking like a puppy that just made a mess. I think he knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasurable exchange.
The cliff notes version is that I was a good cop. I was very polite, but I was firm. I told him that the pasta dish was unacceptable on all levels. I told him that my steak wasn’t anywhere near medium rare and that considering the complete absence of any red or pink coloring and the absolute lack of moisture in any capacity that it simply must have been sitting on a shelf somewhere for hours. I asked for the manager.
Three to five minutes passed before the manager made it to the table. I asked him if the alfredo sauce came from a Campbell’s soup can. He claimed it was their own special recipe. Impossible.
I showed him my, now rapidly decomposing steak. It was now such a disgusting shade of grey that it looked more like a prop from CSI Miami rather than anything resembling fresh, restaurant, Prime Rib.
The manager didn’t say much, but he did agree that my steak wasn’t medium rare. I told him that if it was a simple overcooked steak that it should still have some semblance of moisture. This was a well-traveled rib. It must have been left over from some earlier time. He had no explanation and probably didn’t appreciate my extensive description of disdain for the grey slab. It literally looked like a 1950’s black and white television show was playing on my plate. The steak sucked all color from the surrounding area and left everything a pale shade of grey. It was disgusting.
The manager was, of course, full of apologies and offered to take the food away.
My date decided to just get her meal from the salad bar and that was the extent of what she ate that evening. In short order, I was presented with a visually pleasing and perfectly cooked medium rare Prime Rib.
The new plate was garnished better but it also included an ice cream scoop of those still horrendous mashed potatoes.
So, there I was, stressed out, annoyed and generally in need of a nap, but I was working through my replacement Prime Rib. It was far from the best Prime Rib of my life, but it was a piece of meat that they can be comfortable in serving. I ate most of it and was ready to leave.
The waiter finally reappeared at our table and was happy to see that I finally ate something. He also apologized for the ordeal, but I didn’t think he needed to relate the contents of his conversation with his manager about our complaints. As the customer, I don’t care what he tells the manager and I don’t care if he thinks I am complaining about his service. For the record, I made no complaint about the service. I think he was overwhelmed with too many tables. Sure, he should have brought my Guinness beer on time, but I let that one go.
The waiter was trying to appease me, but I didn’t want to have the conversation. It was a bad experience and I was in no mood to relive it in conversation with him. It was also unsavory that he was telling me that he “went to bat for me” with the manager and he was sure they would take care of me with the check.
This wasn’t a new car purchase where the salesman is going to the manager begging for a good deal for the customer. Frankly, I didn’t care that he was “going to bat for me”. I hadn’t asked for any adjustment of the check and since it hadn’t yet been presented to me, I wasn’t thinking about it.
In the end, the check was only for my two beers. The manager evidently authorized the adjustment and didn’t charge us for any of the food. I would have paid the full menu price for everything. I appreciate that they took the food off the check, but it was truly the only right thing to do.
Even with the approx. $6 dollar dinner check, I still tipped the waiter a large amount which would equal a nice tip on the full check. I never stiff the wait staff. They work too hard to be punished for things that are outside of their control.
I was shocked at how the evening played out and I look forward to returning for another visit just to see how much better it can be.
I hope that some of you visit The Fifth Quarter. Let me know that they can still serve a great meal. Just don’t let them seat you at the half-booth, don’t order a complicated foreign beer and stay far away from the mashed potatoes.
This is a late draft version so it's not perfect but I know several people enjoyed it.
The Art of the Complaint
Adventures at Fifth Quarter
It was a weekend evening and we were in the car trying to decide on dinner. I didn’t want to go to Southridge and deal with the crowds and the traffic. The Town Center presented many options but paying for parking and fighting crowds for the Basketball Tournament didn’t seem too enticing either.
After driving around Charleston for about twenty minutes we decided on The Fifth Quarter. In spite of being adjacent to The Civic Center, all the basketball people were instead streaming across the street to The Town Center and its trendier restaurant choices.
It’s prime location notwithstanding, The Fifth Quarter seems almost ignored by the great hoards of people who flock to the big box restaurants in the Southridge area. I rarely see the parking lot more than half full and I never hear anyone talking about going to The Fifth Quarter.
When I was growing up, there were two steakhouses in Charleston. Everyone had their prom at either “Steak and Ale” (long closed, MacCorkle Ave, across from Haddad Riverfront Park) or “The Fifth Quarter”.
Somewhat later, in my early twenties, The Fifth Quarter was locally famous for their “All you could eat Prime Rib and Crab Leg” specials. The place used to be packed to overflowing by people enjoying the great steaks and very famous salad bar (which was a cut above what everyone else was offering at the time)
I spent many an evening in The Fifth Quarter enjoying slab after slab of excellent, all you can eat, Prime Rib. A friend and I even once took a small portable television to our quiet table so we could watch a football game while stuffing ourselves with prime rib.
This restaurant was a downtown highlight and its quiet and private interior, including the dimly lit bar, have been witness of birth of more than a few local marriages (and divorces).
At some point in the 1990’s the restaurant closed. I don’t know the history, but I know that it must have fallen on some sort of hard times and one day it was gone.
The twist is that there was some kind of groundswell of support that led someone to re-open the restaurant. And that’s how we arrive at 2007. The restaurant has been open again for years and is apparently keeping enough customers happy to keep the lights on.
The old saying is that “you can never go home again” or basically that you shouldn’t try and re-live the great memories from your youth because you will nearly always end up disappointed. Unfortunately, this is how my visit to The Fifth Quarter played out.
We walked inside the restaurant and I was struck by how the interior looks exactly like it did twenty years ago. I remember standing in the exact same lobby and hallway in my tuxedo during my prom.
The rustic wood paneling that was so chic when I was a kid now sort of looks dated and cheap. I think the little podium that the greeter leans against is the exact same one that was there in 1987.
The host looked up from his doodling and I advised it was a party of two and that I wanted a booth. Yes, I requested a booth. I had already deduced that since the lobby looked the same, I figured the dining rooms were still the comfortable, very private, booths along the perimeter and standard tables and chairs throughout the center of the room. Well, I hate sitting in the middle of the room so I wanted a booth.
The host, more or less, ignored my request and seated us at a booth-table. It’s one of those half booths that I always assumed were to accommodate persons in wheelchairs. We were tucked in a far corner and I got to sit in a chair while my date was in a booth whose cushion was also a holdover from the 1980’s. She said that the lower cushion was in such a state of disrepair that she would have been more comfortable sitting on her own ankle.
As I grumbled about the host ignoring my request by escorting us past several unoccupied booths, I noted that the room was at, probably, 40% capacity. There was a large group, in excess of 15 people, who were seated by pulling several tables together. There were some couples and families around the room. The disturbing fellow seated less than 2 feet from our table was creepy. He was sitting alone at his table with empty food plates and was reading something. He seemed to react to our every conversation. The creepy fellow eventually left, but his attention to what we were discussing was just another level of disappointment and we had only been in the building for about 5 minutes.
A young man eventually came to our table and introduced himself as our waiter. My date requested a soft drink and I requested a Guinness on tap. He didn’t know if it was available on tap, but he would find out.
Five to ten minutes passed (he was taking orders at several tables around the room) before he returned with our drinks. Sadly, my Guinness was in a bottle and had been open so long that it was warm and flat. Yes, I am being picky, but anyone that serves Guinness needs to know the proper way to do it. The bartender had apparently opened this bottle but the waiter let it sit for a long time. It’s unacceptable, but I didn’t have the energy to complain. The waiter appeared to be tending to almost every table in the room and it looked like he had his hands full.
The menu was extensive. It’s pretty much standard steakhouse fare and was exactly what I expected. The menu has changed from my youth and there is certainly a wider selection of foods than I remember.
Appetizers from $7 to $15 bucks, soups, salads, pastas, chicken, steaks and ribs. It’s all pretty much the entrees and cuts of meat that you would expect. The prices are a step above most of the big franchise steak places.
One trick that I remember from prior visits, to jack up the price, is that the very inviting, and beautiful, salad bar is not included with the entrees. A house or Caesar salad is included, but if you want access to the bar, it’s an additional $2.49. With most entrees averaging $20, and some steaks nearing $30, I consider it somewhat insulting that one must cough up more money to use the salad bar.
I will say that the best steakhouses in big cities all operate this way. Everything is a la carte’ and you pay for each item on your plate. Vegetables are five to seven bucks more, a baked potato is another five to seven bucks. It is standard fare at expensive restaurants, but I just don’t think The Fifth Quarter is on that level. This place is competing with entry level quick dining restaurants and you simply get more for your dollar at other places.
I worked through my warm and flat Guinness and tried to reassure my date that in spite of her uncomfortable booth cushion she would have a good meal.
Our waiter was running around like mad. He was clearly overwhelmed and didn’t return to our table for quite a while. In fact, I watched him take the order from, and deliver bread, salads and drinks to a table that were seated after us. I may not have noticed these other people but they were sitting in one of the booths that our host walked past when seating us.
There appeared to only be one other waiter in the entire room. These two guys both had artful variations of facial hair and these two guys almost looked like twins. I could only tell them apart by their shirt color. There simply had to be some sort of wait staff problem on this evening as my recollections of The Fifth Quarter were always of a platoon of nicely dressed, and presented, professional type waitresses who were always everywhere you looked. In fact, some of my best memories of service are from The Fifth Quarter. They simply did an amazing job tending to their tables and you got the feeling they were doing their job as a career and not just something they do part time while in school.
These two guys were doing all they could do to tend to their tables, but it was failing miserably. We waited way too long to make our order, refills didn’t come until long after the glass was empty and it just got worse by the minute.
The waiter eventually arrived at our table and we got him to stand still long enough to take our order. For me, it was Prime Rib. For my date, Blackened Chicken Alfredo.
I told him that I wanted medium rare Prime Rib. Mind you, this is a place where I have had hundreds of cuts of Prime Rib. The menu even defines “Medium Rare” as red with warm center. They have never gotten my order wrong…...well, keep reading.
Soon, some bread came and since we didn’t get any appetizers, we each consumed some of this decent, but unremarkable, standard steakhouse bread.
I had selected the $2.49 salad bar on top of my $22.99 cut of Prime Rib. The salad bar is the exact configuration and probably the exact same pewter containers that I remember from the 1980’s. However, this bit of nostalgia is not a bad thing. Everything on the salad bar looked fresh and the bar was surgically clean and nothing was out of place. 45 minutes in and I finally find something to like.
I returned to the table to find my date eating her kitchen prepared salad that was included with her meal. After spying my amazing concoction from the bar, she was more than a bit annoyed with the, technically pretty, but otherwise bland and tasteless salad that she had to endure.
We finished our salads and were more than ready (and probably an hour in at this point) when the waiter arrived with our dinner.
You know that moment of thrill that comes when a waiter places a piping hot dish in front of you. That first instant of eye contact with some amazing looking food……well, neither of us experienced that on this evening.
Her Blackened Chicken Alfredo was a small bowl of pasta with a pale orange “sauce” and with some curious looking chicken on top. I say curious looking because it looked like airplane food. It was too “blackened”. It looked like those frozen, processed, chicken patties that you can buy in places that do not have an actual grill. The grill marks and blackened areas were just too perfect. It looked like prop food. This was not a high quality piece of chicken. From the looks and ultimately to the dry taste, it was not what she expected to receive.
Amazingly, the bland and processed chicken wasn’t the worst part of the dish. The alfredo sauce was a new low in restaurant sauces. This gelatinous mass was clearly not a real sauce. After a taste she instantly, and forcefully, stated that she was absolutely sure this was Campbell’s Cheddar Cheese Soup. I tried it and, yes, I am sure she was correct. I have Campbell’s Cheddar Cheese Soup all the time and I would bet money that this was the exact same stuff.
This was a $9.99 entrée and from what we could tell, it contained processed, surely frozen chicken, about 15 cents worth of pasta and a ninety-nine cent can of cheese soup. It was a complete representation, utterly inedible and she stopped almost immediately.
I was concurrently discovering one of the worst pieces of Prime Rib ever served. This grey colored slab of meat was cold to the touch, was utterly devoid of any form of moisture whatsoever. This piece of meat simply couldn’t have been cooked on this calendar date. Also on the plate was a pitiful ice cream scoop of mashed potatoes that were equally bad. I have had box-mix potatoes prepared in a college dorm room that tasted better than these.
I sat there, head in my hands, and wondered how this was possible. What was I supposed to do? Why did this restaurant burden me with this decision making process? All I wanted to do was come here, have a good meal and spend 50-70 bucks in the process. Now I have to determine how I am going to handle this mess.
How do I tell the waiter that, so far, with the exception of the salad bar, everything he has delivered is worse than dog food? Do I play good cop or bad cop? Hell, I even considered just walking out.
Luckily (sarcasm), I was able to stew over this decision for quite a while because the waiter took his sweet time to return to our table. Both of our drinks were long empty and our plates remained largely untouched.
Eventually we made eye contact and he came to the table looking like a puppy that just made a mess. I think he knew it wasn’t going to be a pleasurable exchange.
The cliff notes version is that I was a good cop. I was very polite, but I was firm. I told him that the pasta dish was unacceptable on all levels. I told him that my steak wasn’t anywhere near medium rare and that considering the complete absence of any red or pink coloring and the absolute lack of moisture in any capacity that it simply must have been sitting on a shelf somewhere for hours. I asked for the manager.
Three to five minutes passed before the manager made it to the table. I asked him if the alfredo sauce came from a Campbell’s soup can. He claimed it was their own special recipe. Impossible.
I showed him my, now rapidly decomposing steak. It was now such a disgusting shade of grey that it looked more like a prop from CSI Miami rather than anything resembling fresh, restaurant, Prime Rib.
The manager didn’t say much, but he did agree that my steak wasn’t medium rare. I told him that if it was a simple overcooked steak that it should still have some semblance of moisture. This was a well-traveled rib. It must have been left over from some earlier time. He had no explanation and probably didn’t appreciate my extensive description of disdain for the grey slab. It literally looked like a 1950’s black and white television show was playing on my plate. The steak sucked all color from the surrounding area and left everything a pale shade of grey. It was disgusting.
The manager was, of course, full of apologies and offered to take the food away.
My date decided to just get her meal from the salad bar and that was the extent of what she ate that evening. In short order, I was presented with a visually pleasing and perfectly cooked medium rare Prime Rib.
The new plate was garnished better but it also included an ice cream scoop of those still horrendous mashed potatoes.
So, there I was, stressed out, annoyed and generally in need of a nap, but I was working through my replacement Prime Rib. It was far from the best Prime Rib of my life, but it was a piece of meat that they can be comfortable in serving. I ate most of it and was ready to leave.
The waiter finally reappeared at our table and was happy to see that I finally ate something. He also apologized for the ordeal, but I didn’t think he needed to relate the contents of his conversation with his manager about our complaints. As the customer, I don’t care what he tells the manager and I don’t care if he thinks I am complaining about his service. For the record, I made no complaint about the service. I think he was overwhelmed with too many tables. Sure, he should have brought my Guinness beer on time, but I let that one go.
The waiter was trying to appease me, but I didn’t want to have the conversation. It was a bad experience and I was in no mood to relive it in conversation with him. It was also unsavory that he was telling me that he “went to bat for me” with the manager and he was sure they would take care of me with the check.
This wasn’t a new car purchase where the salesman is going to the manager begging for a good deal for the customer. Frankly, I didn’t care that he was “going to bat for me”. I hadn’t asked for any adjustment of the check and since it hadn’t yet been presented to me, I wasn’t thinking about it.
In the end, the check was only for my two beers. The manager evidently authorized the adjustment and didn’t charge us for any of the food. I would have paid the full menu price for everything. I appreciate that they took the food off the check, but it was truly the only right thing to do.
Even with the approx. $6 dollar dinner check, I still tipped the waiter a large amount which would equal a nice tip on the full check. I never stiff the wait staff. They work too hard to be punished for things that are outside of their control.
I was shocked at how the evening played out and I look forward to returning for another visit just to see how much better it can be.
I hope that some of you visit The Fifth Quarter. Let me know that they can still serve a great meal. Just don’t let them seat you at the half-booth, don’t order a complicated foreign beer and stay far away from the mashed potatoes.
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