I detest writing negative reviews. Especially when reviewing a new location (Oakbrook) of an old, established friend (downtown). I will post no names.
The Dramatis Personae:
* Myself and my Bride
* The male bartender, who was very friendly and likable...
* A person I think might have been the Manager
* The *Excellent* barback, who kept a friendly and helpful eye on us.
* The Female bartender.
Look, it's okay to have a bad day - that's human nature. From my own managerial experiences, you learn a couple of things pretty damn quick:
* The Customer is ALWAYS right.
* Except when the Customer is removed in handcuffs, or rolled out on a stretcher. That's about 2%.
* Or, if the Customer asks for something that is untenable to your margins. In which case, you smile, accede to the Customer's wishes, and agree on a fair upcharge.
* If you're having a bad day, you tell your Customer in a polite, affable manner! 99.98% of them will understand. Most of us are Human.
What you *don't* do, is ARGUE with the Customer. Yet, that's what happened at the Purple Pig. I wanted the Branzino, and innocently asked how it was served (because the menu didn't say). The female bartender explained "it's a slab of fried fish, laying in a pool of oil and olives and trimmings, radiating heat into the chilly ceramic dish". Not her words exactly, but essentially as mouth-watering. No sides. A la carte.
The menu said "charred", not fried. So, I innocently asked for the Branzino to be served atop a bed of pasta, like I normally do, for the same reason (heat control), at any restaurant anywhere, for all 66 years of my damn life.
"No, we don't do that," she said. My BP began to rise. Without being offensive, I tried to Suss-out the reason for this obstinance; I never did. She suggested I order "from the kid's menu" - which curiously-enough, doesn't appear on their menu. Er, it must be in the Cloud somewhere.
I ordered the noodles, and one of the Pig's specialty cocktails, (which never arrived.) I thought the episode was finished. But no - more fun lay in store. A few minutes later, a runner appeared with a bowl of noodles - noodles that were supposed to be UNDER the Branzino.
After some discussion with the female bartender, we arrived at the knowledge that "they serve their food 'family style'", brought to the table as soon as each dish is completed". That isn't mentioned anywhere on the menu, and at these prices is a wholly unacceptable practice.
Along about this time, the Branzino arrived - beautifully-presented, but a sad little chunk of fish, floating in a pool of oil, garnished with herbs and stuff... exactly what I had tried to avoid. At least it was grilled! I was too tired after a day shopping to fire-up Mr. Grinch. I let it go, and in disgust, I poured the sad little cold rolly noodles over the Branzino, and re-arranged things to my expectations. A bed of cold pasta to garnish the hot Branzino.
Look, folks - and heed me: The days of restaurant dining are nearing their end.
* This episode (dinner for my wife and I) cost $100, with no drinks (the female bartender had never even bothered to enter our Specialty drink into the computer).
* That $100 bill included a $4 can of Coke, and a $17 bottle of Ginger Ale. WTF!
* NONE of the staff ever uttered their names. Where did this custom come from?
* If this is the experience that $100 buys me, I'm staying home. Even though our Puissant Orange Majesty might compliment my focus on affordability, what about all the GOOD PEOPLE that work at Purple Pig?
o Like the chefs! That Branzino was exquisite!
o And the nice male bartender, who was kind-enough to comp us on the $11 kid's noodles.
o Or the restaurant designer - the interior was beautiful, and somebody paid a lot of attention to sound treatment.
o Or, even in a moment of grace, how about that female bartender? She's not a bad person, I'm sure - she just needs some training. I wish her well.
Also: Coming from previous Life Experience - they have this cocktail (the one the female bartender never entered into the system) that requires the person making the cocktail to decant three various fluids from tubs that sit way up high on the corners of a shelf over the liquor racks. Over their heads, reaching up there with no eye protection. I may be mistaken (there are a lot of things I've forgotten over my 66 miles of Bad Road), but I'm pretty sure this is an OSHA violation.
The food was very, very, VERY good (that of it which was served hot or deliberately cold). But, "family style"? No way: the portions were TINY. And the acrid aftertaste of the Service Experience tainted the event. Purple Pig seems to have been conceived as a high-end, quality restaurant. Just look at all those high-falutin' words in the menu! But the quality of training must improve, and soon, as well as the Signage. As a "wine bar", it's pretty fantastic. As a "restaurant", I foresee a bad moon rising. read more