Parkside is a restaurant in its torrid adolescence, a shockingly ill-fitting attempt to behave like an adult in the middle of high school gym class. The restaurant's contradictory nature appears very close to the surface, leaving diners tired and exasperated, forgetting that the food was rather good.
Everything about this place confuses - it's located nowhere near the side of any park, it is a seafood restaurant with the aesthetic trappings of a brasserie, and its menu features many comma-delimited appetizers, a nearly-equal amount of comma-delimited entrees, but very little variety in terms of alcohol or anything else, for that matter. The mid-90's faded TrueType font on the menu looks a bit tired and sad, like a Duncan Sheik album cover.
But the most confusing part of all is the way orders are taken and bills are tallied. We placed our orders, and then moments later were promptly delivered everything we didn't order - steak tartare, calamari, other assorted fishy odds and ends, Zesta crackers, and admittedly lovely bread and butter. We assumed that this appetizer gravy train was on the house, since the party consisted of two people who worked for businesses on 6th street; we were told it was a "perk" of "being in the industry".
At this stage of the meal, we were enamored with Parkside, thinking that it not only served decent food but contained a brash, self-confident demeanor with the way it thrusted its appetizers at us, as if to say they are ready for us to reaffirm a reputation for being a bastion of civilized eating in an otherwise barf-laden party boulevard.
But, like all delusions of grandeur, the artifice of the place was revealed. Time was dragging on, and none of the entrees were appearing.
Instead of serving us the food we had ordered, oysters, chicken and steak, the waiter said that he assumed we didn't want our previous orders, despite the fact that nothing was ever mentioned remotely suggesting such a thing. He offered to have the kitchen actually fulfill the order we had placed 45 minutes ago, but it was midnight and we weren't going to wait.
This put us in an awkward position of having eaten all of the appetizers without having anything but drinks to balance the ticket out with - we didn't want to leave looking like we had been cheap, or otherwise taking advantage of their generosity.
But have no fear, we got the bill, and they charged us for all of the appetizers and all of the drinks. So this ridiculous schizo restaurant decided to ignore our request and instead deliver based on their internal whims.
What kind of restaurant does this? Apparently, one that is already rife with contradiction. Parkside still doesn't seem to understand that what they did is like Cher's papa selling Dr. Good, it says one thing but does another.
I hope, for the sake of its own mental health, that Parkside figures out who it wants to be when it grows up. If it wants to be a restaurant, then learn to take people's orders, cook them, and then charge them for it. Just like an adult has to use their blinkers and file their tax return, there are some simple steps to doing things correctly, and I suggest that Parkside remember that before it tries to shuffle our food orders like a stacked deck of cards. read more