Lee - NEVER again!
Harsh? I don't think so...
As I said Hurt me once, shame on you. Hurt me twice, shame on me.
I should have known better. I should never have gone back. But the food at Lee is sooooooooooo good. He has a way of tickling your tastebuds with the flavours he choses, with the wonderful gastro-creations. Everytime I have gone to Lee I have ordered the Singapore-style Slaw and everytime I have loved every last bite. It is really a fabulous dish. Even the fingerling potatoes which are potato peelings, deep fried. The sauce they are topped with is scrumtious and wonderfully creamy, they are lightly dusted with spice and are fun to eat. I love his food, I love eating tapas, because you get a large variety of flavours and food, but I cannot return. I will never get the chance to enjoy any of his marvellous dishes, because I will not put myself through the torture of the service his restaurant provides. Just because my mouth is happy, doesn't dispell the fact that eating at his restaurant makes me feel like a piece of sh*t.
SO...after the rude treatment from the hostess at my last visit I considered never returning. However, Mr. Lee's menu, being what it is...when our friends wanted to head out for dinner before an evening on the town one night...I still had to suggest Lee. I knew they had never been, they had just moved out of the neighbourhood, and had always wanted to try it, so I went against what I had considered and suggested it. They loved the idea, although my boyfriend and I prayed that the hostess we had encountered was no longer employed.
Now, I had learned my lesson with the previous visit. So about a week before, I called and left a voicemail. I left the same message as before, but THIS time I finished the message with, "Please call me back to confirm the reservation", leaving both my contact numbers like last time, and repeating my cell number at the end of the message.
Later that afternoon a pleasant (and from the sound of her voice I assume) young lady called me back. YAY, I thought in my head when she said where she was calling from. She was pleasant and very informative. They could not take my 6:30 reservation request, but were available at 5:45 or 6pm. She explained that they did two seatings and only booked for certain times. I said I would take the 6pm reservation. She mentioned that it would be a two hour reservation, as my table would be reserved to someone else for 8pm. I understand this practice in restaurants and assured her we would certainly be done by then, having to meet friends somewhere else at 7:30pm. I did mention off-hand that we might be a couple of minutes late...she then repeated again that our table was only available to us until 8pm. Okay, yeah, I got it. But, shook it off because I understand the stress of booking reservations, especially rotating ones like the appear to do at Lee. I thanked her, and said we'd see her next Friday.
So the Friday of our reservation arrives, and mid-day at the office I receive a phonecall. It's the restaurant, calling to confirm our reservation for 6pm that evening. YAY...I think, they've fixed whatever the problem was before. They are DEFINITELY on the ball. "Now remember...Your reservation is only..." she starts. "until Eight!", I say a little exasperated now. "I know, don't worry, we'll be out." I'm a little bit concerned about this harping on the only two hours and the eight o'clock reminders, but I know I'm just over-worried due to prior treatment at the hands of Lee staff.
Friday night arrives, the four of us get in a taxi and head over to Lee. We arrive at about 6:05. When we walk in the hostess has her back to us. The hostess station is set up like that. There is no where for the hostess to stand behind, so if she is on the phone or writing something down, her back is to you. Even if the service had been impeccable every time, I find this a little rude. I understand the difficulty with the set-up, but it's still not the most welcoming site to be greeted with someone's back.
After a couple of minutes of just standing there at the door, the hostess turns towards the two gentlemen in our group. I am exstatic to see that it is not the same hostess as before. Then she opens her mouth. "I'll be with you in one moment...gentlemen. I have some ladies to deal with...FIRST." She says this in a very dry unimpressed voice, as though they had rudely interupted her. NO...I must be just hearing this in my head, but I swear it was the same girl's voice as last time...just in a different body. I SWEAR. Then I figure I'm just making this up...I'm projecting this bad attitude onto this poor girl because I expect to receive it.
She then turns to my friend and I and smiles a nice fake smile with her nose slightly turned up. Yes...can I help you ladies?" There is something too sweet in her voice.
I look at her and point at the guys, "yup, we're with them." Okay, I'm not giving her a fair chance here. "Yes, we have a 6 o'clock reservation under Stewart". She looks in her book and then looks at her watch...Oh GAWD...NOOOOOOOOO...but oh, YES...she does.
"Well, now your reservation is only for two hours from 6 o'clock. And it's already 1o minutes after 6..." (yeah, but we've been waiting for you to turn around for the past five minutes...I think to myself in my head) "...you only have until 8 o'clock."
"Yes, I know" I answer stiffly, but trying to be calm about it...I know, I know, I know...it's like the 5th time I've been told! "No worries, we're sure to be done by then, no problem at all". Again, I'm starting to feel the same embarrassment that I felt the last time. D@MN! Why did I suggest we come here.
She shows us to our table and I start to apologize to my guests, explaining that the restaurant does a second seating of all of the tables and that they're pretty strict about how long a reservation is, and pretty much trying to make her behaviour okay. They look at me quizzicly, and we get seated.
I'm very excited because they have my favourite red wine on the menu Wildass Red. Then the waiter comes over.
"Has everyone been here before?" He asks quickly.
My friends half raise their hands, kind of playfully explaining that they have not.
The waiter then jumps full speed ahead into a speech delivered at the pace of someone working at a farming auction. He describes how the menu works, that it's tapas and that multiple dishes should be ordered for the whole table to share. He starts to go through different items on the menu, spewing product knowledge all over the place. Although it's a shame he's speaking so fast because it's a little difficult to follow him, and I've been there before and already know how it works. He finishes, not even seeming out of breath. And then much to my utter dismay, sticks two fingers from his right hand, into the gap between buttons on his dress shirt and SCRATCHES HIS STOMACH!!!! and then starts again. (no word of a lie, there were four of us that witnessed this event...and he was so non-chalant about it that at first his attitude about it made me realize how NORMAL he made it feel to me...which made the whole thing EVEN MORE DISTURBING!)
"Now I know you probably want to order drinks right away, but I suggest you look at the menu and figure out pretty quickly what you want to order. I mean your reservation is only..." NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!! DON'T SAY IT! PLEASE!!!!! DON'T SAY IT!!!! "....until 8pm, and food can take a little while longer!" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH "Also, I have a table of TEN people coming in shortly", he gestures to the table RIGHT beside us, "and I probaby won't have any time to talk to you again." WHAT?!?!?! "So you should probably concentrate on ordering your food, fast." (wow...McDonald's eat your heart out!)
Okay, I could finish this here. And really, this is where this story should end. I should have stood up, explained to the waiter that I was sorry we were wasting his time and told my guests we were leaving. But again, I just nodded in compliance.
"One second", I say, "we do know what we would like to drink."
"Yes?" he says.
"A bottle of your Wildass red. It's my favourite wine." I explain, trying to be a little personable, maybe he'll calm down a little.
"Oh, we've been really low on that, I don't even know if we have ANY." He says.
"Uhm, well, could you check. We'd like a bottle and if you don't have any...then we'll take your Chilean Cabernet Savingon". Now...I'm a BIG fan of Chilean Cabs...it's what I drink right now. I don't care about the cost (within reason), but the first two things I check on a menu are...do they have Wildass, and do they have a Chilean Cab. They had had both...there was no question. Now...the Wildass is a $40 bottle. Whereas the Chilean Cab $31.
He looks down his nose at me at the request of the CC "Oh", he says as though I just ordered a bottle of water from the toilet.
"YES", I said rather firmly, "if you can't bring me the Wildass, I'll take the Chilean Cabernet".
So he leaves...I feel shocked, but I'm still thinking...maybe it's me? Maybe, I just can't see the service properly because of my previous experience. Maybe I am ruining all of this in my own head for myself. It can't REALLY be going this badly. Can it?
Then my friend sitting next to me, who is a very calm and collected business professional, who I have seldom heard speak a negative word or swear, turns to me and says "Are you fucking kidding me?!?!".
And then we have at it, and the table lets loose. Nope, it is NOT just me. I am NOT making any of this up in my head. We start to explain to each other how shocked we are with the hostess, the waiter, the stomach scratch (!), and the repeating of the bloody 8pm kick our @sses out threat! (I jokingly laugh and say...yeah, we should sit here and eat ourselves sick until 8pm and when they ask us to leave, just walk out and not pay the bill...Op...8 o'clock...better go...next reservation).
I pipe up and say we should probably worry about this later. The food her really IS amazing, so let's figure out what we want to order before he gets back. So we scour the menu...they let me choose some really yummy items, and we're ready for him when he gets back.
And like the hostess from the summer who looked like she'd blessed us with the patio table, he is carrying a bottle of the Wildass red to the table. You'd have thought it was the Stanley Cup!
"The second last bottle in the place!" he says proudly, like he gave birth to it himself.
"That's great", I say, "since there's 4 of us, we'll probably drink two bottles. Could you put the LAST one aside for us too?" Then I think twice about that, "Actually...", I say in a humourous but dead serious voice, "why don't you open that last bottle for us now...and let it breathe". Ha ha...yes.
So...we order our food. Then we drink our fabulous wine and bitch about the service so far. The table of ten comes in and true to his word, we don't see him again, and a plethora of other wait staff deliver our different dishes. The food is wonderful. Better than ever. We eat dish after marvellous dish. I joke "it's almost worth the horrendous service"...and I question in my own head if it is anymore.
The our service comes over, just as we're finishing the last sips of our bottle of Wildass.
"Unfortunately," he starts...not really looking like it's unfortunate at all, "we can't seem to locate the other bottle of Wildass. We've even used flashlights to look for it". Of COURSE you can't, of course you did, I think to myself. But if I get up from this table and find it on another table, I will smash the bloody thing over your head!
Instead I say dryly, "Then we'll have the Chilean Cabernet, won't we?". And he disappears, no apology. We then wait 20 minutes, until I have to call another server over and ask them to bring me our wine.
There's not much more to write. The wines were wonderful, they always are. We ate every last bite of food, mopped up every last bit of sauce. Everything tastes so good and is so fabulous...but after the treatment we received, after the behaviour of the staff and the way we felt...I can never ever return to Lee.
I have never felt more like a piece of sh*t than when our waiter informed me that he would not be able to SPEAK to us once his table of 10 had arrived. I have never felt more like standing up and making a scene when the LAST bottle wasn't available, even though he made such a big deal about the SECOND LAST bottle. Why tell me about it if you can't deliver?
It's unfortunate, but if you ever want to taste Mr. Lee's fabulous creations, my suggestion is as follows. See if they'll do take-out, and have someone you don't like very much go and pick it up for you. Otherwise, you'll have to deal with someone that works there in person, and I would not inflict such an encounter on anyone other than my most disliked acquaintances.
http://www.susur.com/lee/index.html
As I said Hurt me once, shame on you. Hurt me twice, shame on me.
I should have known better. I should never have gone back. But the food at Lee is sooooooooooo good. He has a way of tickling your tastebuds with the flavours he choses, with the wonderful gastro-creations. Everytime I have gone to Lee I have ordered the Singapore-style Slaw and everytime I have loved every last bite. It is really a fabulous dish. Even the fingerling potatoes which are potato peelings, deep fried. The sauce they are topped with is scrumtious and wonderfully creamy, they are lightly dusted with spice and are fun to eat. I love his food, I love eating tapas, because you get a large variety of flavours and food, but I cannot return. I will never get the chance to enjoy any of his marvellous dishes, because I will not put myself through the torture of the service his restaurant provides. Just because my mouth is happy, doesn't dispell the fact that eating at his restaurant makes me feel like a piece of sh*t.
SO...after the rude treatment from the hostess at my last visit I considered never returning. However, Mr. Lee's menu, being what it is...when our friends wanted to head out for dinner before an evening on the town one night...I still had to suggest Lee. I knew they had never been, they had just moved out of the neighbourhood, and had always wanted to try it, so I went against what I had considered and suggested it. They loved the idea, although my boyfriend and I prayed that the hostess we had encountered was no longer employed.
Now, I had learned my lesson with the previous visit. So about a week before, I called and left a voicemail. I left the same message as before, but THIS time I finished the message with, "Please call me back to confirm the reservation", leaving both my contact numbers like last time, and repeating my cell number at the end of the message.
Later that afternoon a pleasant (and from the sound of her voice I assume) young lady called me back. YAY, I thought in my head when she said where she was calling from. She was pleasant and very informative. They could not take my 6:30 reservation request, but were available at 5:45 or 6pm. She explained that they did two seatings and only booked for certain times. I said I would take the 6pm reservation. She mentioned that it would be a two hour reservation, as my table would be reserved to someone else for 8pm. I understand this practice in restaurants and assured her we would certainly be done by then, having to meet friends somewhere else at 7:30pm. I did mention off-hand that we might be a couple of minutes late...she then repeated again that our table was only available to us until 8pm. Okay, yeah, I got it. But, shook it off because I understand the stress of booking reservations, especially rotating ones like the appear to do at Lee. I thanked her, and said we'd see her next Friday.
So the Friday of our reservation arrives, and mid-day at the office I receive a phonecall. It's the restaurant, calling to confirm our reservation for 6pm that evening. YAY...I think, they've fixed whatever the problem was before. They are DEFINITELY on the ball. "Now remember...Your reservation is only..." she starts. "until Eight!", I say a little exasperated now. "I know, don't worry, we'll be out." I'm a little bit concerned about this harping on the only two hours and the eight o'clock reminders, but I know I'm just over-worried due to prior treatment at the hands of Lee staff.
Friday night arrives, the four of us get in a taxi and head over to Lee. We arrive at about 6:05. When we walk in the hostess has her back to us. The hostess station is set up like that. There is no where for the hostess to stand behind, so if she is on the phone or writing something down, her back is to you. Even if the service had been impeccable every time, I find this a little rude. I understand the difficulty with the set-up, but it's still not the most welcoming site to be greeted with someone's back.
After a couple of minutes of just standing there at the door, the hostess turns towards the two gentlemen in our group. I am exstatic to see that it is not the same hostess as before. Then she opens her mouth. "I'll be with you in one moment...gentlemen. I have some ladies to deal with...FIRST." She says this in a very dry unimpressed voice, as though they had rudely interupted her. NO...I must be just hearing this in my head, but I swear it was the same girl's voice as last time...just in a different body. I SWEAR. Then I figure I'm just making this up...I'm projecting this bad attitude onto this poor girl because I expect to receive it.
She then turns to my friend and I and smiles a nice fake smile with her nose slightly turned up. Yes...can I help you ladies?" There is something too sweet in her voice.
I look at her and point at the guys, "yup, we're with them." Okay, I'm not giving her a fair chance here. "Yes, we have a 6 o'clock reservation under Stewart". She looks in her book and then looks at her watch...Oh GAWD...NOOOOOOOOO...but oh, YES...she does.
"Well, now your reservation is only for two hours from 6 o'clock. And it's already 1o minutes after 6..." (yeah, but we've been waiting for you to turn around for the past five minutes...I think to myself in my head) "...you only have until 8 o'clock."
"Yes, I know" I answer stiffly, but trying to be calm about it...I know, I know, I know...it's like the 5th time I've been told! "No worries, we're sure to be done by then, no problem at all". Again, I'm starting to feel the same embarrassment that I felt the last time. D@MN! Why did I suggest we come here.
She shows us to our table and I start to apologize to my guests, explaining that the restaurant does a second seating of all of the tables and that they're pretty strict about how long a reservation is, and pretty much trying to make her behaviour okay. They look at me quizzicly, and we get seated.
I'm very excited because they have my favourite red wine on the menu Wildass Red. Then the waiter comes over.
"Has everyone been here before?" He asks quickly.
My friends half raise their hands, kind of playfully explaining that they have not.
The waiter then jumps full speed ahead into a speech delivered at the pace of someone working at a farming auction. He describes how the menu works, that it's tapas and that multiple dishes should be ordered for the whole table to share. He starts to go through different items on the menu, spewing product knowledge all over the place. Although it's a shame he's speaking so fast because it's a little difficult to follow him, and I've been there before and already know how it works. He finishes, not even seeming out of breath. And then much to my utter dismay, sticks two fingers from his right hand, into the gap between buttons on his dress shirt and SCRATCHES HIS STOMACH!!!! and then starts again. (no word of a lie, there were four of us that witnessed this event...and he was so non-chalant about it that at first his attitude about it made me realize how NORMAL he made it feel to me...which made the whole thing EVEN MORE DISTURBING!)
"Now I know you probably want to order drinks right away, but I suggest you look at the menu and figure out pretty quickly what you want to order. I mean your reservation is only..." NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!! DON'T SAY IT! PLEASE!!!!! DON'T SAY IT!!!! "....until 8pm, and food can take a little while longer!" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH "Also, I have a table of TEN people coming in shortly", he gestures to the table RIGHT beside us, "and I probaby won't have any time to talk to you again." WHAT?!?!?! "So you should probably concentrate on ordering your food, fast." (wow...McDonald's eat your heart out!)
Okay, I could finish this here. And really, this is where this story should end. I should have stood up, explained to the waiter that I was sorry we were wasting his time and told my guests we were leaving. But again, I just nodded in compliance.
"One second", I say, "we do know what we would like to drink."
"Yes?" he says.
"A bottle of your Wildass red. It's my favourite wine." I explain, trying to be a little personable, maybe he'll calm down a little.
"Oh, we've been really low on that, I don't even know if we have ANY." He says.
"Uhm, well, could you check. We'd like a bottle and if you don't have any...then we'll take your Chilean Cabernet Savingon". Now...I'm a BIG fan of Chilean Cabs...it's what I drink right now. I don't care about the cost (within reason), but the first two things I check on a menu are...do they have Wildass, and do they have a Chilean Cab. They had had both...there was no question. Now...the Wildass is a $40 bottle. Whereas the Chilean Cab $31.
He looks down his nose at me at the request of the CC "Oh", he says as though I just ordered a bottle of water from the toilet.
"YES", I said rather firmly, "if you can't bring me the Wildass, I'll take the Chilean Cabernet".
So he leaves...I feel shocked, but I'm still thinking...maybe it's me? Maybe, I just can't see the service properly because of my previous experience. Maybe I am ruining all of this in my own head for myself. It can't REALLY be going this badly. Can it?
Then my friend sitting next to me, who is a very calm and collected business professional, who I have seldom heard speak a negative word or swear, turns to me and says "Are you fucking kidding me?!?!".
And then we have at it, and the table lets loose. Nope, it is NOT just me. I am NOT making any of this up in my head. We start to explain to each other how shocked we are with the hostess, the waiter, the stomach scratch (!), and the repeating of the bloody 8pm kick our @sses out threat! (I jokingly laugh and say...yeah, we should sit here and eat ourselves sick until 8pm and when they ask us to leave, just walk out and not pay the bill...Op...8 o'clock...better go...next reservation).
I pipe up and say we should probably worry about this later. The food her really IS amazing, so let's figure out what we want to order before he gets back. So we scour the menu...they let me choose some really yummy items, and we're ready for him when he gets back.
And like the hostess from the summer who looked like she'd blessed us with the patio table, he is carrying a bottle of the Wildass red to the table. You'd have thought it was the Stanley Cup!
"The second last bottle in the place!" he says proudly, like he gave birth to it himself.
"That's great", I say, "since there's 4 of us, we'll probably drink two bottles. Could you put the LAST one aside for us too?" Then I think twice about that, "Actually...", I say in a humourous but dead serious voice, "why don't you open that last bottle for us now...and let it breathe". Ha ha...yes.
So...we order our food. Then we drink our fabulous wine and bitch about the service so far. The table of ten comes in and true to his word, we don't see him again, and a plethora of other wait staff deliver our different dishes. The food is wonderful. Better than ever. We eat dish after marvellous dish. I joke "it's almost worth the horrendous service"...and I question in my own head if it is anymore.
The our service comes over, just as we're finishing the last sips of our bottle of Wildass.
"Unfortunately," he starts...not really looking like it's unfortunate at all, "we can't seem to locate the other bottle of Wildass. We've even used flashlights to look for it". Of COURSE you can't, of course you did, I think to myself. But if I get up from this table and find it on another table, I will smash the bloody thing over your head!
Instead I say dryly, "Then we'll have the Chilean Cabernet, won't we?". And he disappears, no apology. We then wait 20 minutes, until I have to call another server over and ask them to bring me our wine.
There's not much more to write. The wines were wonderful, they always are. We ate every last bite of food, mopped up every last bit of sauce. Everything tastes so good and is so fabulous...but after the treatment we received, after the behaviour of the staff and the way we felt...I can never ever return to Lee.
I have never felt more like a piece of sh*t than when our waiter informed me that he would not be able to SPEAK to us once his table of 10 had arrived. I have never felt more like standing up and making a scene when the LAST bottle wasn't available, even though he made such a big deal about the SECOND LAST bottle. Why tell me about it if you can't deliver?
It's unfortunate, but if you ever want to taste Mr. Lee's fabulous creations, my suggestion is as follows. See if they'll do take-out, and have someone you don't like very much go and pick it up for you. Otherwise, you'll have to deal with someone that works there in person, and I would not inflict such an encounter on anyone other than my most disliked acquaintances.
http://www.susur.com/lee/index.html
posted by PrincessDoubt @ 4:04 p.m.
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