After a recent visit to 'The Oven', I wrote them the following and have yet to receive any response. Guess they couldnt care less Dear Sir/Madam, It's been said that listening to customer feedback is a vital part of any
successful business venture. With that in mind, I thought I would take this
opportunity to share some of the more memorable points of my dining experience
at The Oven with you. Please feel free to act on this, or alternatively share it
with the staff. I'm sure they can all have a good long laugh at the moaning
customer with too much time on his hands. Having eaten at (and being very impressed by) the restaurant previously, I was
looking forward to the evening. It started in a somewhat chaotic manner when
upon walking through the door we were immediately directed to the bar. I was
expecting to be asked if we'd booked a table, but no, in we went. I'm not sure
if that's a good or bad thing. Surely if we had just walked in off the street we
would have been taking the pre-booked table from someone else? I digress. Off we went to the bar. I use the term bar loosely. It actually seemed to be an
area for the staff to have a natter. Expecting to find some tables, maybe even
some bar stools (bar stools? In a bar? Whatever next) I made my way over to the
seating area. Some would call it a seating area. Some would, perhaps more
accurately, refer to it as 'the corridor leading to the fire escape'. I whiled
away the time looking at the wall inches from my nose, perusing the menu Id been
given. I also began to plot my escape route in case there was an actual fire and
a particularly overweight diner I couldn't help but notice, stampeded towards me
like a startled African Elephant. The menu contained a fine selection of dishes. But, no mention of the evening
special advertised on your website. As we were directed to our table, I
mentioned this to my ever helpful waiter/ess (I shall keep this non
gender-specific we all have bad nights). Imagine you awoke one night. Awoke to
find a neatly coiled dog turd on your pillow. Millimetres from your face. Now
imagine that someone took a picture of your face at the very second you made
this discovery. The face you are making on that picture is pretty close to the
one pulled upon my request to see the other menu. Anyway. We cracked on and ordered. This in itself became an epic task as the
evening special menu includes a glass of wine. And we already had a glass of
wine. Trying to communicate that we would like another as part of the menu was
akin to describing the minutiae of nuclear physics to a hamster. The starter arrived. Very nice too. We were then asked if we would like to dive
straight into the main or have a break. I went for the break option. After ten
minutes or so, I informed the waiter/ess that we would now like to have the
main. A look of confusion swept across their face. Almost as if the 'break'
conversation hadn't happened. For a second I wondered if Id crossed into some
kind of parallel dimension. I mentioned this to my girlfriend, but she assured
me that I was still present at the table and that I hadn't disappeared into a
freak gap in the space/time continuum. Imagine the relief! The main came and was, frankly average. Not great. Not bad. Just average.
Although I could only make that judgement after picking my way through the skin
on the sauce, which I'm assuming was a direct result of the 'break'. Onto coffee and then the bill. Predictably, this was wrong, with four coffees
being listed, rather than the two ordered. I contemplated mentioning this to our
ever helpful waiter/ess. I really did. However, I was genuinely concerned that
this would confuse said member of staff so much that they would be unable to
stand whilst concentrating so hard and may fall over and hit their head.
Weighing up the £3 overcharge versus the need to perform CPR on a total
stranger, I swallowed my pride and paid. To be honest, in retrospect I think
that was a good decision. As we left to the sounds of 'Coldplay by Piano' (shame he wasn't selling copies
of this on C90. I'm sure he would have cleaned up), I made a mental note not to
return. I used to love the restaurant, really I did. Any chance of getting it back??? read more