Take Away:
Be careful who you hire as a server.
Diners can quickly forgive a one-off, mishap in a respected restaurant when it's busy. When a clueless, loud, "sing-song-y" talkin' server is added to the misfortune, it becomes apparent how the atmosphere of the meal is as important, if not more important, than the meal itself. Blue Moose is a solid, unpretentious restaurant. The serving are generous and the staff creates a family experience. There is enough variety and a nod to GF and V ingredients for all to feel at home. The prices reflect quality ingredients but stay below Breckenridge's gourmet establishments. Skiers love this place for their hearty meals. Blue Moose knows their audience. We tend to do breakfast at home but they mirror the vibe we love about Breck so from time to time we stop by. We split our time between Breckenridge and an out of state home. My husband has worked ski season on the mountain for decades, full and part-time.
I waited a week to post this but should mngmnt be wondering about how diners are experiencing the service... Labor Day Sunday, busy & chilly, we were the first to say "sure" to an outdoor table. I requested extra broccoli with the garden breakfast. When it arrived the biscuit was in a pool of hot water. I quickly tilted the plate by placing an upside down spoon on one side to drain the water away from the over-easy eggs and veggies.
I understood what happened. The broccoli was over steamed to the point of yellowing stems. It was plated and in the minutes it took to walk it from kitchen to table, the water was dripping off the stems and pooling on the plate. My thought process: I dislike wasting food, I did not want to get a cook scolded - stuff happens, we are smack in the middle of the patio - I am loyal to Breck businesses so did not want to call attention to the mishap and have that discussion invade the other diners' experience. "Suck it up and see if I can get a fresh bisquit" I thought as I lovingly caressed two packs of orange marmalade - a true sign of distinguished breakfast service.
As the minutes ticked by I was increasingly dismayed that the pool of water was turning yellow from my over easy egg yolks. The mess was hard to miss. Our server flitted by our table a few time and I saw her look directly at my watery plate twice. Once she asked if everything was fine and we sort of nodded and I quickly raised my hand and said "May I please (have a fresh bisquit) but she kept walking after I said please. I placed the brocolli into a food storage container I typically bring for leftovers when dining out, hoping the plate could be removed ASAP. I salvaged the egg whites and enjoyed the other veggies. Man, she could talk up a storm with the other diners but kept gliding past us. I sustained my dream of a fresh, warm biscuit slathered with orange marmalade.
Our Server-in-denial continued to flit. Neither of us could catch her eye. When she finally brought over the check, I pointed to my plate. OK - this is where I forgot a rhetorical question is too subtle during a biscuit crisis. "How does this happen?" I quietly asked, hunching over the plate, pointing to the yolky water and wet flour ball. I just wanted the issue acknowledged so I could get a quiet, sympathetic "Oh, no!" and fresh biscuit to go. Instead, she explained loudly, loudly, the hydraulics of brocolli that has not been drained. I raised my hand slightly, mumbling "Please stop, I know how to cook." I have never met the owner(s) but I was thinking of them and the people who are making a living from the restaurant. I did not want others to hear this conversation. Our server seemed to want everyone, 5 feet beyond normal earshot, to know that my ordering extra brocolli is the reason my plate has a pool of water, though I don't think they wanted to know about it.
I was afraid to ask for a fresh biscuit as that was sure to extend the conversation and there was no telling what was going to be said around that issue.
She then rushed off came back loudly announcing to the dining circle around us that she was "giving" us a "local" discount and our bill was now $40.16. Golly, gosh.
We did not expect to be identified as "locals" as we don't go there often. We did not want this to be an issue as we are "local" enough to want everyone to enjoy a Breck Breakfast. But when she reappeared announcing her valor in securing us a local discount, it was ridiculously self-serving and once again we were forced to be "on stage" with her.
I will be back to get that fresh biscuit to-go. Full confession: being forced to be "on stage" I lost track of the fact that I never stopped clutching the 2 marmalade packets and they are now in our fridge. Sorry about that. read more