How (un)professional can a restaurant be in this lovely city of Brisbane?
It was my last evening in Brisbane before adjourning up North to Mackay for more sun. Dan suggested dinner at Crubar. I was at Crubar with Jo for drinks the night before, I liked the vintage chandelier, I liked their cocktails, I liked the bartender.
Steph and I was happily sipping on our drinks from the Martini glass with Luan and Dan while ordering our dinner that was, according to many, not too bad. Everything went well, despite having to repeat myself to attain the wine list. No big deal.
Entrees came not long after we placed our order. The problem then came straight when they served our mains. Firstly, they served only Steph’s lamb T-bone and told me that it takes longer for them to cook my steak, alright. Then they took the wrong order for our side – we wanted enoki mushrooms not gnocchi. That’s fine, at least they changed the dish. Soon after, my steak was presented to me while Dan had to wait for another couple of minutes for his pork cutlets. I mean, hello, your chef can’t even manage his cooking time in the kitchen and bring the goddamn food together? Fine, I didn’t quite mind.
Second problem occurred – I ordered a medium-rare and they gave me a medium-well (almost a well done, sweetheart). That’s still okay as I’ve similar encounter before. And now, the biggest problem – the attitude of the chef and manager of the so-called restaurant.
The waitress that I requested for the change from returned to me with the same old plate of steak saying that “the chef cannot agree with me”. I demanded to see the manager, who spoke off her arse. Let me tell you part of our conversation.
Lynn: I respect your chef’s decision but I’m wondering, if this is what you classified as medium rare?
Manager: blah blah blah... (spoke some shit off her arse)
Lynn: No, what I wanted to know is whether this is what you called a medium-rare?
Manager: In Australia, yes.
Lynn: I live in Australia(!!!)
Manager: The chef don’t think it’s his fault and he’d have to charge if he’s to make a new piece.
Lynn: Look, I just need to know from you, representing Crubar, that this is what you considered as medium-rare.
Manager: Erm… according to the chef, yes.
Lynn: Great, thank you. That’s all I need to know. Now can I know the name of your chef?
Lynn: Last name?
Manager: I need to ask…
Came back after 5 minutes…
Manager: I’m sorry but my chef wants to know why do you want to know his name.
Lynn: I’m a food writer (okay, I lied)
Manager: My chef won’t give you his name unless you talk to him personally.
Lynn: Why would I waste my time talking to your chef? And me being a customer has no rights to learn the name of your chef?
Manager: I’m sorry but I’m afraid that you’ll have to speak to him personally.
Lynn: That’s alright, I’m not interested anymore. All I need is to know that he’s cooking for Crubar.
About 30 minutes later when she returned to collect the plates…
Manager: What company are you writing for?
Manager: Do you have a name card?
Lynn: Sorry, I forgot to bring them, I’m on holiday, didn’t expect to work.
Manager: My chef would like to know your name.
Lynn: Your chef refused to let me know his name and he is now asking for my name? You’re kidding me.
Excuse me darling, I may not be a connoisseur but neither am I a fool. For your information, I eat out almost six days in a week, shy to say. I may not be able to tell the difference between the meat of rabbit and hare but it doesn’t take an expert to differentiate a piece of medium-rare and medium-well. I may not have steak on a daily basis but neither this is my first piece of meat. I may not be fussy but I have expectations.
Someone please tell me that I’m wrong, that this is a medium-rare. Someone just prove my eyes and tongue wrong, as well as Steph’s and Dan’s, that they are so tender and juicy they almost melted in my mouth. Someone please.
So Crubar it is. If you’re looking for some bad food, bad services and insult (thinking that you’re from China and this is the first time you step foot in Australia), go to Crubar. If you want to take your special someone on a special occasion for some yucky fare and embarrass yourself, go to Crubar.