so last night i finally paid grace a visit. it opened a while ago, but i’ve been sort of afraid to go inside. i mean who in portland is cocky enough to open a fine dining (aka high priced) restaurant in a down economy inside a giant converted church? admittedly, it is a pretty impressive renovation, although there’s a faux classiness that smacks of homegoods to me. wine cork napkin holders?! also, the silverware is terrible. my spoon looked more like a tiny shovel, and was completely ineffective in getting the soup from bowl to mouth (which turned out not to be that much of a problem, but we’ll get there soon).
however, i could forgive the tackiness parading as high class if the food was good. i’d pay $50 for a meal in a burnt out gas station if it was delicious, but it was really crap. the lettuce in my salad had dirt in it. my cauliflower soup was so pureed that it had an unearthly slimy smoothness that i found to be utterly gross. my dessert was microscopic. who knows what kind of carrageenan xanthan gum bullshit was in the earl gray hot chocolate (which tasted like burning tires and old perfume btw) that made it thick and lumpy-gelatinous. and for some reason, everything (no matter how tiny) was served on plates so giant that it was completely impossible for me to eat both my salad and soup simultaneously. the only decent thing we had all night was the wine, and we all went home hungry. boo-urns.
and the entire time, i couldn’t stop thinking about how much my $10 dinner at po’ boys and pickles earlier in the week was so much better. so much better. the sweet potato fries were the best i’d ever had (sorry silly’s- too soggy!), they made me a meatless ruben with incredible fresh bread (and only charged me $3 for it), and the sticky toffee pudding was as good or better than any dessert that i’ve ever had at any restaurant in portland (including the tres leches cake at caiolas). dear po’ boys, please move on to the peninsula, and i will happily buy bigger/stretchier pants.
as much as i want to support all local businesses, if they don’t deliver, they don’t deliver. food doesn’t taste better if the hostess ignores me, or because they make me taste the wine before they fill the glasses, or if they take away my salad fork just because i’m not having a salad. i don’t care how much you spent on the renovation. just give me something (anything) that tastes good, or me and my $43 aren’t ever coming back.
At the risk of getting all Jerry Seinfeld and being all “what’s the deal with that,” I’d like to open a friendly discussion about current state of feminine hygiene products in the year 2013.
broke 207 