Station--Brooklyn

718-599-1596

Station, and I'm sorry but I cannot help myself, is a train wreck.  My experience here was so bad, so ridiculously poor, that I pity the owner that spent their investor's money on such over the top  business cards and peculiar menus.  How do I begin?

Comfortably located fifteen steps from the Bedford stop, I arrived late with my wife already sat at the door.  It was a blustery night, and the heavy wooden door could not stay closed.  It blew and blew then every once in a while a waify little hostess would remember to close it. This would be a harbinger of things to come, as the service was without a doubt, the worst I've ever had in New York City.

The menu was nothing short of schizophrenic:  French, Italian, African, I mean all over the map, or book.  Or whatever it was they were trying to do.  We decided to have rilettes and a nice glass of wine while waiting for our server to finally materialize   The waitress knew as much about food as I know about organic chemistry, stating that the menu was Mediterranean influenced.  She also told us later, that she had to clear our rillets as the short ribs were ready and needed to be served--presumably for fear of overcooking.  She also didn't offer us water once.  Not a single time.  In fact this is my first meal ever at a restaurant--going all the way back to Denny's and Carrows and Marie Calenders when I was just a wee lass--that I was not offered water with a meal.

The food?  Abysmal.  The chef hales from 11 Madison Park which means she spent most of her time telling diners what they were going to have for dinner.  Here the flavors and aesthetic were so mish-mashed together: said short rib had mushrooms red wine while my chicken had curry and potatoes.  Of course, its hard to say you enjoy eating anything when you're parched.  Maybe soup.  Wifey wife was paying, so we still tipped, but had I been paying I would have laid a big fat goose egg all over the check.  That would also would have been a first.

St Anslem's--Brooklyn

718-384-5054

Went here a few months ago to try the famous rib eye for two.  It was a Tuesday night, and since they don't take reservations we decided to head on in a touch early.  Tuesday, 7pm, 1 hour wait.  No problem, we'll just grab a drink at the bar.  Sorry charlie, no drinking at the bar. Try our short order place across the street Fette Sau (which I've never reviewed by the way).  Been there, thanks.  Thanks maybe next time (big smile).

Fast forward to last Saturday.  We wanted a steak dinner and since we don't like getting Peter Lugered we figured this place is the only place in our neighborhood to get a guaranteed non butcher steak dinner (certainly Dresslers or Diner or somewhere else may have a steak special, but who wants to risk it when you have a hankering...).  We knew there would be a wait so we headed in at 6 p.m. thinking even if we have to wait an hour, we were still eating at a reasonable time--as we were told by some mystical creature that had happened to eat there the cooking/resting time on the rib eye is an hour.  The wait?  Two mother fucking hours!  They entire restaurant could turn and we would still have to wait.  Normally, I would say good for them.  Here are some entrepreneurs that opened a small beer bar (Spuyten and Duyvil) and then opened a cool kitchy barbeque place (Fette Sau), and have finally arrived serving steak to the carnivorous locals.  But the hostess, with her i-pad and horrible hippy-esque corduroy's and awful second hand boots, was so motherfucking smug, so unapologetically proud of the fact that she was turning away another customer that I wanted to punch her square between the eyes.  And after the group behind us, a party of five no less, was told three and a half hours I evacuated, swearing never to return.

We eventually met up with the friend we intended on meeting there, and he told us that he was asked tonot to stand behind the bar while two other friends finished up their dinner.  Okay, so now I know I'm not crazy.  This place is too much of a good thing, and since it is reinforced by insanely patient consumers, the attitude of the staff has clearly gotten out of control.  I don't understand why you would not take reservations if you have waits of two and three hours.  I would understand not taking reservations if you had a loitering kind of bar, or if it was truly first come first serve, ie., no poorly dressed asshole with an i-pad.  A two-hour wait in a forty cover restaurant means that you're perfectly willing to turn away business that may not come back.  And this arrogant attitude has infected the staff since they're all too happy to tell tell people to try your over-rated pickle bar across the street.   And since everyone is on the bandwagon of amazing food and my new favorite restaurant I can only assume that your popularity is due to the exclusivity that creates such buzz.  What am I to do, other than say  I hate restaurants that are cooler than their customers, especially since I'm the coolest guy I know.