So here's what. Drelyse is inconsistent. That bothers me. When it's good, it's spot-on. And when it isn't... well.
The Boy and I returned to Drelyse after a month. I don't live in Columbus so I was pretty excited about our pilgrimage. I called in advance to check that they'd be open when we arrived, and the person who answered the phone said "Yes of course" and seemed bemused and slightly indignant. I explained that the last time I'd tried to come by, they had closed their kitchen--it was an hour earlier than their supposed closing time. He retorted that that must have been a Sunday; I said no, it was a Thursday evening, but no matter, I was on my way. But he wouldn't let it go, and kept talking about how I must have been wrong. I kept saying, "Okay, no worries," but no dice.
We arrived at the restaurant. The TV was on and really loud; there were maybe two other patrons there. It made talking difficult. Admittedly, eventually we asked gently whether the TV could be turned down a tad and they did. So that's good.
We ordered quite a lot of food--including our favorites, the vittambua and the goat stew. I asked for my food not to be too spicy.
The vittambua came out. Not very good. I was so disappointed; I rarely eat sugar (except to eat Jeni's ice cream; omg) and when I do, it has to be worth it (have I already said Jeni's? Jeni's!) The vittambua wasn't. Fine. Whatever.
The food comes out. I start eating. I bite into chilis. The food is spicy. The dude swings by to ask how things are and I say this is too spicy. You know what he does? He starts talking. "Oh, no, this is not spicy! It can't be. I told the kitchen." I said, "Look, I just bit into chilis." He said, "There are no chilis in there!"
Oh my god. Just say "oh no, so sorry" and take it back.
Nope. He leans over and looks at my plate and says, "Oh, it must the *salad* that's spicy--that has chilis in it sometimes. But she [presumably a cook] picked the chilis out." Oh. So now you admit that there are chilis in the dish. And you're telling me it was made with chilis that someone picked out by hand, and not effectively. Well, that's appetizing.
It was just a bit much for me and I wasn't in the mood to confront, so I said, "Don't worry about it," and turned back to my food. But, as with the phone incident, our man wasn't done. He walked away still saying, "But there are no chilis in the goat stew. I told the kitchen..."
I was relieved when he went away. For a second. Because then he came back! And he said, "But Indians eat spicy! You don't eat spicy? You Indian, right? Man, Indian food is so spicy. They really like their spicy!"
Now, here's what. I'm as American as I am Indian. I can handle more spice than many and less than others. Indian cooking varies a lot and it isn't all hot. And none of this matters because I asked for something non-spicy, and you brought me something spicy, then denied that it could be your mistake and insisted that I was wrong, and then you return to basically be completely insulting (and ignorant).
The Boy placed a hand discreetly on my knee, and I closed my mouth instead of telling him what I thought. I picked around my meal as best I could; we finished and headed out.
Here's the thing. I like good food. I am totally fine with a hole-in-the-wall. I can even make peace with slow or forgetful service. But I have a hard time when there is disrespect involved, and I felt that I was disrespected. I don't know that I want to go back. I might--who knows, the food might be good again--and the dude might leave me the f*ck alone.
The Boy, by the way, got very different treatment. He's Nordic-looking, so the dude assumed he didn't know how to eat with his hand. That's not unfair. The Boy demonstrated and the the dude was delighted, clapping him on the shoulder and extolling his praises. And his food was fine. And my food wasn't bad at all; it was quite yummy, only it was f*ckall spicy and I had specifically--well, you know that story.
So there we are. Come on, Drelyse. Get your act together. Don't be douchey. Just replace the food and stop insisting that the customer must be wrong. read more