Last night my sister and brother-in-law treated us to a really nice dinner, as a thank you for the month's worth of food I cooked for them. We chose to dine at Bacchanalia as it is considered to be one of the best, if not the best restaurant in Atlanta. It's definitely on the pricey side, but my sister wanted us to splurge, so why not?
The food was good, but nothing wowed us. There were highs and lows, and while the food was pretty solid, it would have shined more if the service wasn't so eerily weird. I'm not going to talk about food for once - I'm going to talk about service, hospitality, and when it's going too far.
The first thing we noticed about Bacchanalia is the space... its high ceiling room is very nicely decorated with red cloth hanging as makeshift walls, numbing noise and making the room feel more intimate. The lighting is dim, there are candle-lamps on the tables. The bar is beautiful, with a great view of the open kitchen. The way that the space is decorated screams FINE DINING!, and FANCY!, but something doesn't feel right. Lily points it out. The ceiling is exposed and industrial-looking, and the walls are large off-white grimy tiles. It feels like someone is disguising a school cafeteria as a fine dining establishment.
The second thing we notice is the sheer volume of employees wandering about. We had the first reservation, at six o'clock when they open, and we were really overwhelmed by the army of white-coated servers. First sign of uptight formal service - the hostess brings us to our table, one person pulls the table out for Lily to sit, another pulls my chair out, another brings us menus, and a manager observes for good measure - five people hovering around us. All the while I'm thinking, "go away", as thirty people are watching us, cooks peering out the glass of the open kitchen.
The third annoyance was the menu lecture. Our server explains, "The crab fritter is prepared blah blah blah and is an excellent dish...This is one question we usually get about the appetizers...the sheep's milk gnudi is a blah blah blah...Another question people frequently ask is blah blah blah blah..." Ten minutes go by as he's explaining the menu items, most of which we already know and understand. Yes, we are more knowledgeable than the average customer, but still - Why not just ask us if we have any questions instead of answering every possible question that the oblivious diner might have?
The room fills up by 6:30, but with only a couple empty tables, the white coats are overwhelming. Lily described the scene at Bacchanalia as an ant farm - worker ants swarming all over the place, walking to and from the kitchen, pleasing the queen. They're trying to be subtle - walking quietly when they approach your table, speaking too softly when describing the dishes they bring you with the same exact words as what is printed on the menu (this is a very annoying trend in fine dining).
But as hard as they are trying to provide perfect service and never let your water glass reach 3/4 full, they are failing miserably by constantly interrupting their customers. Lily sent back her requested medium lamb as it came to the table rare - no big deal. It came back perfect, and it was delicious. A manager approached five seconds after the re-fire arrived to ask how it was, and Lily says "I don't know I haven't tried it yet." Then three other little worker ants approached at different times with us mid-conversation and asked how she liked her lamb. "FOR THE FOURTH TIME MY LAMB IS FINE...LEAVE ME ALONE," Lily thought (she's too nice so she said "perfect").
The pacing of the meal was really terrible. Some courses were a leisurely 10-15 minutes apart, and some were not even a minute apart. From the dessert course on, we felt like they were rushing us out the door, snatching up our plates before the spoons hit the table and giving us the check along with the cookies and madeleines. It felt as if the pacing between courses was either, "Take your time, enjoy yourself, and digest a bit before the next course" or "Hurry the hell up and don't let the door hit you on the the way out".
Now I'm doing a lot of nitpicking, and the staff deserves credit for being friendly and staying on top of everything we needed, but this is just an example of how there's a difference between proper, attentive service and protruding, over-attentive service. It can easily make the difference between a good meal and a great meal.
-Wax
Saturday, September 6, 2008
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