The food at Avec is interesting and delicious, but it's not good enough to make up for having to tolerate the other human beings in the place.
I don't consider communal lunchroom tables hip or interesting, I consider them one of the things I was happy to leave behind when I left middle school. Why? Because when you share a table, you're likely to share it with a$$hats. True, maybe you meet some nice dining companions. But maybe a$$hats. It's a gamble.
To one side of us at the shared table on a Sunday evening: two middle-aged couples, conversation increasingly dominated by one of the increasingly drunk women, who became increasingly insistent on providing a detailed and theatrical rundown of her recent psychological growth. The only thing that didn't steadily increase was the distance between her head and the table and she slumped further and further, eventually resting head to hand to table.
To the other side: three acquaintances, maybe co-workers. Conversation dominated by a middle-aged guy in a bright red Polo pullover, gray hair slicked back and slightly tousled in a style I can only call "country club mystique," trying very hard to impress the other two with his erudite knowledge of the food and wine. Whatever this guy's name is, I'm guessing he went by "Chaz" in the 80's and likes to tie an argyle sweater around his shoulders to protect himself from the crisp breeze while he's out yachting. The only moment of intermingling between any of the parties at the table was when this fellow announced, "I saw that!" after I accidentally dropped a slice of dried ginger into my lap. Thanks, Chaz.
Avec is loud. Bad loud, not good loud. When my date and I got tired of of trying to talk to each other over our charming neighbors (across a table that's so narrow you have to keep rearranging plates and glasses), we started texting each other:
me: wtf is with this guy in the red shirt?!
my date: he's giving a$$hole lessons
me: i see
my date: i brought you here on free education night
me: i'm thinking about flinging a hunk of cheese toward the kitchen and seeing what happens
...[discussion of inappropriate behavior]...
my date: let's not get blacklisted, i have to come here sometimes with [business associate]
me: yeah. when we were here with [business associate] and some other people, weren't some of them total douchebags?
my date: yeah. this place must have a quota
Alright, so sitting with d-bags wasn't Avec's fault, I s'pose. Here's what was:
Our server (Josh, i think?) was a dick. He came to our table one minute after we sat down, and told us in a bossy, unfriendly tone that he was taking care of both our group and Chaz's group and so he really wanted to put the parties' orders in together. Then he asked what we wanted, and of course my date and I had no idea, but Chaz said something like, "WE'RE ready, let's get this thing going, baby!" So, of course, the orders went in separately. Sergeant Josh also acted annoyed and defensive when I added a fruit side to our cheese plate-- he said in an accusing tone, "I thought you decided against that." Well I did, Josh, but I changed my mind, and now I'd be very appreciative if I could get the MF-ing fruit plate!
Finally, a love note. Dearest Avec: How do I love thee? Not at all. A few words about beer, my darling. A beer bottle should not be taken away until the customer has poured all the beer into her glass. Also, some beers (like my date's) have tasty, tasty sediment at the bottom of the bottle, and before you pour out the last bit, you're supposed to swish the beer around so as to get that beer-gold out. I would normally not mention this trivial business in a review, my love, but since you fancy yourself a high-class foodie joint, you should probs get this stuff right. Yours for-never, H read more