Oh, Duvic's. No no no, Duvic's. No. Nooooooooooo.
First, I guess, a few qualifications: this review has to do with the brunch experience. It's entirely possible that, during normal bar hours, this place isn't an abomination composed of broken dreams and old man farts, but it's a little hard to see how.
Also, there seemed to be another room full of people having a good time on the other side of the bar. But can you really judge a place only by how they handle the great times? I can tell you I've been there two weekends in a row - the first time to try someplace new, and the second time in good faith - and Duvic's has bummed me out so much I don't think I will ever go back, even if they send me flowers. Yep, this is one of those "incident-based reviews" that I try not to do because I usually find them unfair and unrepresentative, but in this case it's pretty much all Duvic's has given me to go on.
Last weekend my wife and I visited with another couple. It was relatively quiet and subdued for the entire time we were there because, horribly, there was an active shooting situation on Airline Drive. Many of our friends are police or television and print journalists on scene to cover the events, so we were watching the news with particularly grave concern, although perhaps no more than everyone else. One of the bartenders even tried to help us turn on Closed Captioning on the TV so we could follow events more closely. You can imagine, though, when the other bartender delivered our food and said "that's the first time I've seen you smile all day," we privately found it tone-deaf and inappropriate. Come on. This is a pub, not TGI Fridays and certainly not Walt Effing Disney World; some people go because they're happy, sure, but some people go because they really need a drink. You don't get to tell people you just met to smile when their friends could catch a bullet any second.
But that was not a great day for anyone, and the food was tasty enough, so we kept it to ourselves.
This weekend, though, the place was full, busy, and ostensibly normal; I certainly wasn't told otherwise. So you can imagine that, an hour and fifteen minutes after we had ordered, when the six other people at our table had finished their food and we had yet to even receive our appetizer, I was a little confused.
I walked up to the bar to check on our food (incidentally, they certainly kept the mimosas flowing to our empty stomachs) and was told it was coming. Somewhere in there, the bartender made no apologies and said there were only two people working in the kitchen. Ten minutes after that, we were told it was being plated. Somewhere in there, the manager on duty told my wife that our food had been dropped on the floor while being made. Really? All of it? All three dishes? Ten minutes after that, I got my shrimp and grits. Ten minutes after that, we got our boudin balls. Ten minutes after that, my wife got her cheeseburger.
Duvic's eventually paid for our meal, which was nice. But the thing is that they wouldn't have done it if we hadn't said anything about waiting nearly two hours for our food, and at the end of the day what I really wanted was an apology, a "shucks, honestly we simply forgot your order; we got it wrong this time and we're sorry about that." But apparently it's not that kind of place; it's the kind of place that employs people who expect you to smile through police getting shot and be glad that you get your food at all, the kind of place that would rather pay you off than acknowledge your frustration and connect with you as a person.
All of this is a real shame, as the food at Duvic's is really pretty good if you can get over the smoke and relatively lax service. Our brunch group is always looking for a new place to go, and I can't speak for all of them, but I know that several won't return.
Look, Duvic's is obviously entrenched. It seems like one of those old, Phil Brady's type bars that somehow got taken over by late thirty-somethings and sees itself as a neighborhood hub that doesn't really need to, say, justify its existence or, I don't know, ban indoor smoking like every other place that serves food in the twenty first century. And for these reasons, they have no incentive to change, or improve, or not blame and defame their patrons when they get something wrong. If that's the kind of place you want to call your Sunday brunch spot, or your hometown bar, be my guest. For me, it's not and likely won't ever be. read more