Spoiler alert- this is an epic tale about the shittiest dining experience of my life. read on for entertainment purposes only...
It's a balmy winter night in Austin, TX, and you are recovering from a nasty bout with the plague, and want to repay your now ailing caretaker with a steaming bowl of restorative pho.
You think- Hai Ky always used to serve up good pho. (What is really happening here is that your fever-addled brain has forgotten about the arguably brain dead waitstaff and mediocre at best food)
Waitress #1: appears frazzled, hung over/plagueridden? spends most of her evening limp in a chair at the table next to you, with her head in her hands. Occasionally she stirs to wipe her nose on her wristband.
Enter the appetizer- a couple of flaccid spring rolls that have clearly been waiting for several hours to be put out of their misery. Accompanying them is a watery peanut sauce that appears to be the result of a "chef" trying to stretch the sauce stash all night, with a sprinkling of peanuts on top to offer the illusion of peanutty richness. Fail.
Next comes the pot of Lipton tea, whose delivery goes unnoticed because waitress #2 is humping the back of your head to reach the condiment caddy and remove the 1/8 empty sriracha bottle from IN FRONT OF YOU, where it is clearly being used to breathe some life into this weak ass sauce.
While waiting (an eternity) for your order of noodles and pho, Waiter #3 offers you two steaming plates of food. That just so happen to not be yours. He deposits them at the next table. Unfortunately, 5 minutes later, he brings that table the food intended for them... While the next table over couple (now sullenly longing for their food) gaze upon their might-have-been plates, now half-devoured, being joined by new plates of food. Its like a shitty food convention at the next table over.
Waitress #2, the sriracha stealer, attempts to clear up the confusion by accusing the men eating of "not saying anything" when delivered the wrong orders. When asked, "what happens now?" She generously offers to let them keep all the food by saying, "I guess you can just have it all."
Finally, your food arrives. The desperately needed sriracha is nowhere to be found. The flat noodles are more like hastily fried noodle nuggets. The pho is full of half raw, horribly mangled meat. With a paltry ration of 12 bean sprouts, one basil sprig, and a petrified slice of lime.
Waiter #3 is summoned. Your companion asks whether this meat looks cooked enough to him. He explains that the meat is tossed into the broth raw, where it cooks. Apparently he thinks this is your first pho rodeo. NOTE: your companion is Asian, it's safe to assume she knows how pho is made.
She tries to gently explain that this meat does not look high quality enough to be served raw...imagine if you will a pair of period panties found by your puppy and mangled into shreds...he asks if she wants something else.
"Yes. Yes I do." She says. She would like a dining experience that less resembles a 3 stooges routine in the 7th circle of hell.
She gets up to leave. You follow. Thank heaven for 888, just down the road.
*One day later, I am still shaking my head in disbelief that this tragedy of a restaurant is still open. Truly, there is no justice in the world. read more