by Stephen D » Mon Aug 02, 2010 6:25 pm
The Tragedy
Left, right, left, etc. Tom thought I had lost my mind. Every once in a while, I would stop, put my nose to the air, and change direction. I was following the smell of grilled meat- fresh, from an active stove. None of the hot dog stand blahs (not impressed with the dogs in NO.) He thought I was crazy, until I brought us to the door of Antoine's. Yahtzee! Home of the Oyster Rockefeller. We went inside and pulled up a couple of chairs at the frontal bar.
Of course, I was happy to be there.
'What's your favorite drink?' I asked
'I don't drink,' said the bartender.
I became uneasy. It's a pet-peeve of mine, this. If you don't ever taste your own work, how do you know it's any good?
'Ok, your best Sazerac, please.'
He ruffled around a bit and produced for me a bastardized version of the New Orleans classic. What annoyed me even more is that he made small talk with me about attending TOTC the next day. He knew I was a bartender here for the king of our events- knew I would know the friggen difference. Or maybe he didn't- even worse.
So, drinking the un-absinthed, un-flamed orange sacriledge of a cocktail he placed before me, I asked the next question, simply to give him an out- a way to shine...
'So, what's your favorite thing on the menu?' I knew Antoine's was the birthplace of the Rocky and was gonna order it anyways.
'I don't eat here,' he replied.
I didn't miss a beat. I played it off like 'I feel ya, it's cool.'
'Well, let's start with the Rockefeller,' Tom nodding cause he knew I wouldn't lead him astray- shoot I led him here with my nose.
It gets worse- a server comes to the bar, griping about a guest that is drinking too much cola. Then I see it- he is serving the man a double-cola out of a decanter! You serve wine out of that! Expensive wine! And you can't just run it through dish. You have to use a special tool to clean the curve between the base and the neck.
The 'Barkeep' places the order, goes back to his tasks. Tom and I are discussing some of the classic NOrleans dishes and whatnot (remember: foodieStephen at this point...)
Then he does it:
Not 5 feet away from me, in front of a regular (who, like everyone else is drinking beer) he says, '(x) like those guys' and points to us. I knew what he said, cause I've done it myself, behind closed doors.
You may feel my questions were out of line, that my enthusiasm to be in your establishment was a bit too much. Whatever- I could have smelled. But you never, ever, say such a thing within my earshot as a guest!
I'm chomping gravel now. He disappears into the kitchen for 3-5-7 minutes (timed, btw.) If he spit in my Oysters would I ever know the difference? Do I want to pay $12 for a crappy drink? For that abuse from a rookie?
For the first time in my life, I walked out of the restaurant- no paying for your overpriced, underperformed drink. Nor did I drink it. Feed it to the dogs, for all I care.
Last edited by Stephen D on Tue Aug 03, 2010 12:18 am, edited 3 times in total.