John Lethlean
Will somebody please buy John Lethlean a disguise? Maybe a fake moustache and a nice wig? Because... and I know this is going to sound crazy and paranoid... I think he might be getting special treatment from some of the places he visits. And since he seems to be regurgitating the same reviews at least 3 times over - in Epicure, the Melbourne Magazine, and Gourmet Traveller - it would be interesting to know how they treat the punters. Much more interesting than reading about how well they kissed the critic's arse. Just ask Ruth Reichl.
Take The Argo, 64 Argo St, South Yarra, Tel +61 3 9867 3344. Based on his trio of rave reviews you would think it's a safe bet for a great dinner, right?
Wrong. Very, very wrong.
At first I wondered if we'd gate-crashed a Jenny Craig meeting. It took a good half an hour before we scored a couple of dinner rolls... little baby dinner rolls about the size of a stunted chicken nugget. Then, about an hour later, out came the entree of scallops... with a grand total of 3 scallops and a small squiggle of something green. I could feel my sugar levels dropping fast...
Eventually, about two and a half hours into the meal, our mains arrived. The grilled wagyu porterhouse was very nice. But the rabbit was raw. Two and a half hours of waiting and they serve up a half-cooked bunny. Brilliant. We send it back... but rather than serve a replacement, they shove the plate under the grill for a while (or maybe a few minutes in the microwave, who knows?) then bring it back with a warning "careful... plate's hot"...
The final straw was our attempt to pay. The bill arrived, I handed over my card, and it was whisked off somewhere for processing. About 5 or 10 minutes later our waitress asks if we're all done, etc, and I inform her that I should probably pay the bill first, just as soon as someone comes back with my card and the little piece of paper to sign.
Another 5 minutes pass, together with some frantic searching of benchtops and tables, and eventually she returns with my card and a bill... except it's not my bill.
Finally, the correct bill arrives, I sign, and we leave. What a disaster.
To their credit, The Argo didn't charge for the raw rabbit, and our waitress (who was quite nice and did a good job in the circumstances) gave us a few glasses of French bubbles on the house. But no amount of bribery can really make up for the greedy stupidity of overbooking and overloading a small kitchen on Valentine's night.
Will somebody please buy John Lethlean a disguise? Maybe a fake moustache and a nice wig? Because... and I know this is going to sound crazy and paranoid... I think he might be getting special treatment from some of the places he visits. And since he seems to be regurgitating the same reviews at least 3 times over - in Epicure, the Melbourne Magazine, and Gourmet Traveller - it would be interesting to know how they treat the punters. Much more interesting than reading about how well they kissed the critic's arse. Just ask Ruth Reichl.
Take The Argo, 64 Argo St, South Yarra, Tel +61 3 9867 3344. Based on his trio of rave reviews you would think it's a safe bet for a great dinner, right?
Wrong. Very, very wrong.
At first I wondered if we'd gate-crashed a Jenny Craig meeting. It took a good half an hour before we scored a couple of dinner rolls... little baby dinner rolls about the size of a stunted chicken nugget. Then, about an hour later, out came the entree of scallops... with a grand total of 3 scallops and a small squiggle of something green. I could feel my sugar levels dropping fast...
Eventually, about two and a half hours into the meal, our mains arrived. The grilled wagyu porterhouse was very nice. But the rabbit was raw. Two and a half hours of waiting and they serve up a half-cooked bunny. Brilliant. We send it back... but rather than serve a replacement, they shove the plate under the grill for a while (or maybe a few minutes in the microwave, who knows?) then bring it back with a warning "careful... plate's hot"...
The final straw was our attempt to pay. The bill arrived, I handed over my card, and it was whisked off somewhere for processing. About 5 or 10 minutes later our waitress asks if we're all done, etc, and I inform her that I should probably pay the bill first, just as soon as someone comes back with my card and the little piece of paper to sign.
Another 5 minutes pass, together with some frantic searching of benchtops and tables, and eventually she returns with my card and a bill... except it's not my bill.
Finally, the correct bill arrives, I sign, and we leave. What a disaster.
To their credit, The Argo didn't charge for the raw rabbit, and our waitress (who was quite nice and did a good job in the circumstances) gave us a few glasses of French bubbles on the house. But no amount of bribery can really make up for the greedy stupidity of overbooking and overloading a small kitchen on Valentine's night.
