|That's my red car... barely made it!|
Our hotel package came with a dinner gift certificate good at a variety of restaurants in the area. We chose Locals which was attached to the hotel property; I had looked at the menu on-line and it looked like a nice restaurant with a fresh menu, largely based on offerings from purveyors on the island. The restaurant itself is a pretty little place, with the look of a country inn: flower beds, a gazebo, and a cozy interior with a English-cottage feel.
We were seated, and then we had plenty of time to enjoy the room and each others company as we waited. And waited. And waited some more. Someone finally approached our table after about ten minutes and poured water without saying a word and then vanished. Well this was curious, we thought, as we continued to wait. Gary finally saw the hostess who seated us as she was bringing something to a nearby table, caught her attention, and asked which of the servers running about might be responsible for our table. I added, "because, we'd love to perhaps order a drink..." with a look that indicated, "you know, since we've been sitting here being completely ignored for 15 minutes." The hostess looked genuinely pained and said she would send our server over. A bubbly young lady appeared, said not a word about the delay, and asked what we would like. I ordered a cocktail off the drinks menu and she looked at me blankly. Granted, I got the name wrong, inserting "Framboise" where I should have said "raspberry" but given that Framboise is made from raspberries, I thought her complete lack of recognition was a bit much. Gary ordered a glass of wine by stating both the grape and the winery listed and got the same blank response. When he finally pointed to it on the page, she figured it out. She was oddly chipper at the same time as being clueless and when she went off to get our aperitifs, I wondered aloud if perhaps she was drunk. Our drinks arrived and perhaps it was my own damn fault... I'm embarrassed to give the description of my drink (ok, it was vodka, Framboise, and 7-Up) -- it tasted like jam. I would have added a healthy shot of lime juice and subbed soda water for the 7-Up, but that's me; Gary's wine was mediocre at best.
|duck confit salad|
|looked good, tasted... meh.|
You know what, though? Gary and I like hanging out together and we like eating in restaurants and we like talking about what we're experiencing, which we actually found rather comical; and neither one of us are the sorts who would let a less than stellar meal ruin an evening. We were on a weekend escape to a beautiful island and if this meal wasn't the best ever, so what? That's the bottom line, right? So what.
|It pains me to say this, but it wasn't that great.|