This restaurant is a pimple on the butt of humanity of such epic proportions, they might have been better off serving Butt of Humanity as a daily special. Or pimple.
There were 12 of us. A doomed dozen, who ordered a variety of dishes, openers, main dishes, but happily, as it turned out, who successfully avoided dessert.
In fact, two of us were native Italian speakers, which made the poor quality of the entire experience even more shocking, give one would have expected a certain neighbourly national pride in which a secret handshake or whispered word would have been exchanged to warn us off, but alas, this was not to be.
Our first indication of things to come should have been when not enough menus were circulated. We were so young, so naïve, back in those days. Appetizers were ordered, and then we sat, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Perhaps they ordered out for them, who knows?
I am used to, and indeed appreciate, the European approach to food service, but this was beyond all measure when 45 minutes later, a few of the appetizers arrived. Then, bread and some olive oil, but not enough to go around, as an after-though.
Oh, would we had though to have fled!
The main dishes took an equally laconic schedule ... my order, the 'lamb chops' suggested by the waiter, looked delightful when set to table. I was soon disavowed of any delight The first bite was a bit of a shock, in that it had the distinct taste of ass, and by that I do not mean the noble donkey. No, this had a decided essence or anus to it. Perhaps the lamb was a bit off, and they were looking to save of cartage costs if thrown in the trash, though I, but gamely, I marched on, culinarily. I took a bite of the second chop, and that is where my meal screeched to a halt, as I didn't eat another morsel for fear of my life. Not that I could complain to anyone, because despite the tiny size of the restaurant, all three of the wait-staff managed to hide between rapid relays to our table.
One of my co-diners was almost lucky. They forgot his order entirely, although sadly, it did eventually show up when we managed to attract the attention of a waiter, and he re-took the order. It arrived just as those lucky enough to have edible if unpalatable food were stuffing, in prisoner-like fashion, the last few bites into their mouths, given no choice but to eat what our guards would deign to serve.
All-in-all, this was one of the worst dining experiences of my life (a strip mall in Oakland California for chicken-fried steak ranking down there are comparable), from the quality of the food, to the preparation, to the appropriately-named wait-staff who weren't remotely friendly about their tasks, at all. One wonders if they were competitors who had kidnapped the legit owner operators of Ristorante Santissimo, and had them hog-tied in the back room, with an eye to ruining their reputation.
The red awning, indicating 'steak, seafood, pasta' should serve as a warning to any wayward travelers in the Vienna arts section to go elsewhere, the gutter might serve as a better alternative to what is ultimately a hole in the wall location, with a considerable emphasis on 'hole'. read more
