The Counter..... ohhhh The Counter.... where do I begin. I'm sorry Mr. Thompson Hotel but I am gunna have to go ahead and add your "diner" to my hate list. Yes, they are few and far between, but the garbage can meal that was served to hubs and I today makes the cut to my " you are so shitty, i hate you, make better food or close" pile.
Now, before I begin I would like to completely exclude our wonderful waitress from this blog bash as she was wonderful. Very attentive and understanding to how horrid the kitchen was functioning and she deserves nothing but sunshine and rainbows.
As for the rest of "The Counter". you suck. alot. Mr. Head Chef. you cannot cook. As we enter we were sat right by the drafty door - which ok fine - I understand someones gotta sit there - but that just started it on a bad note right off the bat. After we placed our order (which I was quite excited about because the vast menu does offer alot of choices that you think would be delish), it took about 1 hour for our food to come out. We watched table after table get their food before us - even tables that had been seated over 30 minutes after us. We could actually hear our sunshine rainbow waitress in the kitchen yelling for our food. My guess? A past nemesis was working the kitchen and did not want us to eat. ever.
Once our food did arrive - our waitress took one look at the onion rings she had suggested to us - and immediately asked the kitchen to bring us out a new order because they looked so horrid in comparison to the pile high crispy rings covering every table around us. We were going to send them back anyway - but they were SO bad she beat us to it. About 25 minutes later our onion rings arrived. So prompt. Hubs had already finished his meal by then (worst Reuben of life), and I had completed picking at the supposed "best thing on the menu" - the truffle mac and cheese which was so bland it made La Castile's vegetables look OVERspiced. Seriously people its mac and cheese - a newborn orangutan with no arms could have done a better job.
The funny thing is, as the food is coming out - it looks like it is going to be a fantastic meal. Big diner style plates full of deceiving goodness. However, once you take a bite you can't help but wonder if the kitchen is trying to play some kind of sick joke on you. It's got to be a look-a-like placebo meal right? My waitress is behind THAT wall RIGHT now with my REAL mac and cheese right? The one that doesn't taste like curly drywall shavings soaked in skim milk? But alas you will find the joke is on you. They have stolen wasted calories from you that you will never get back. What a waste of a suppose to be delish Sunday fat brunch with hubs. I will be cursing you tomorrow "The Counter" when I am reluctantly on the tredmill. a-holes.
xo
Chef (my mac and cheese rocks) Natty
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