Remember that adage attributed to Abraham Lincoln, the one where a boy claims to be too hurt to laugh, and too big to cry? Kinda how I felt after a disastrous dinner at Station 66. I didn't know whether to be furious or, once the buffoonery of the serving staff rose to the Three Stooges level, resignedly amused. I finally chose amused. It's easier on my digestion, and I'd rather laugh than cry.
A few details of the evening's shortcomings, just for fun:
A server trying to snatch away my salad plate: "Can I clear that plate for you?" Not an inappropriate question, except that I hadn't finished and was actually eating from it that very instant. A momentary and gentle tug-of-war ensued. Really.
My wife was misserved - she ended up with my entree, I got something I didn't recognize. Another server approached with what he thought was her correct order, but then realized it couldn't be so, because this plate had chicken. Uh...dude, that isn't chicken, that's artichoke, and that IS the correct dish. Convincing the young man that chicken isn't a vegetable was a challenge, but I was ultimately successful....I think. I'm still not sure if he really believed me. Seriously? A server who doesn't know artichoke from chicken?
Finally got condiments on the THIRD request, the last two being to the dining room manager herself. C'mon, folks - salt, pepper and parmesan aren't gold dust.
The evening specials? It seems that they existed for the next table, but not for us, because I heard nothing of them when the menus were presented and after the entree order placed. Not that they sounded that special when I overheard them being told to our neighbors, but still...it would have been nice to have been informed.
Our server was nice enough to tell us, when I was brushing off his apologies for poor service, that "I'm a really nice guy who likes to help people out." Really? Don't need your help, bro. I need you to wait my table in a reasonably competent fashion, the job for which you're being paid. In the fullness of time you might even reach for the stars, and attempt a modicum of professionalism.
The dining room manager was good enough to inform me that "none of this was YOUR fault". What? Huh? Was it ever even under consideration that this comedy of errors could have possibly been my fault? Definitely hit a wrong note there. To her credit, she did offer a free dessert, and later graciously extended the offer to cover the entire meal in light of our hideous experience; I declined. I don't accept comps on principle.
To the food:
Caesar side salads ($3.50) acceptable. Quite good, actually.
My bride found the spinach and artichoke fettucine ($15; add $4.50 for chicken or sausage) to be overcooked, bland and uninteresting. That is her description. I just thought that it tasted, well, funny.
I thought the fettucine alfredo ($14, same upcharge for upgrade) would have been pretty tasty, had it been served hot. Came to the table lukewarm, and the stiff, coolish breeze on the al fresco upper deck rapidly chilled it even further. Sent it back; the replacement dish showed up in good time, but still lukewarm. Not good. Perhaps if they heated the serving dish? But then, I don't know if I'd trust the clowns employed as waitstaff here with a hot dish - from the ineptitude I'd seen thus far, I suspect that it may have been dropped in my lap.
In both cases the pasta was poorly presented; appeared to have been vomited onto the plate, with bits and scraps of sauce and mushroom splattered on the rim. C'mon, guys, the lunch ladies at my elementary school (you know, the ones with the hairnets and the attitudes?) served up a meal more visually appealing than that.
This is a place with Italian pretensions, so I expected at least a decent cup of espresso. Oh, silly, foolish me. On the strength of the evidence, I believe they may have reused the previous customers grounds. An interesting economy, to be sure, but a Godawful product.
Pretty pricey place, I thought, but I don't mind that, if the food and service is on par with the tariff. Given the horrible problems with the service, and the indifferent quality of the food, I'd say the price outstrips the value to the point of outrage. A less scrupulous person might even use the term 'rip-off', but that would be unkind, and perhaps unreasonably subjective.
Come to think of it, the best thing about Station 66 might be its location, in that it's right across the street from the Pine Country Restaurant, a place with excellent pie, good coffee and, from my one experience there, friendly, personable and competent waitstaff. I can say nothing of its food, however.
I understand that Station 66 is a new business and can be expected to have its share of teething problems, but if my experience there is any indication I don't expect that it will survive them. It certainly doesn't deserve to. read more