Help Me! I'm Melting!
After our dinner at Gordon Ramsay's Maze at The London a few weeks back, my pal Keke has been asking me to visit her in Lehigh Valley, PA so she could return the gourmet dinner favor. Last weekend I accepted her invitation and took the bus - yes, the bus - to Allentown, to hang out and enjoy dinner at Keke's favorite local haunt Melt. In all honesty, I wasn't expecting to be wowed by Melt's Mediterranean-Italian offerings. After all, the restaurant was located in a mall. (Then again, so is Per Se.)
In the end it wasn't the mall setting I should have been worry about. It was the service.
The comedy of errors all started with one misstep - I ordered a Manhattan in a city other than New York. Oh, what a fool was I! The Melt waitress set down my Martini glass with cherry well enough, but the pour came up short. Very short. Half.
Harumph!
She promised to return shortly with the other half of my drink along with a new cocktail for Keke, since the house special she'd ordered was a bitter disaster.
10 minutes passed. 20 minutes passed. The waitress finally came back with a new cocktail for Keke, but nothing for me. Another 10 minutes passed and then she re-emerged. But instead of bringing me the other half of my Manhattan, she proffered a shot of bourbon.
Apparently the bar didn't really feel like making me the other half of my drink.
What?!? I told her to take it all away. If they couldn't bring me a WHOLE cocktail, I'd order something else. She promised to go back to the bar and set things to right. The bar wouldn't oblige. They sent me back a full-sized Manhattan alright, but they decided to switch out the Sweet Vermouth for Dry. In word: Blech!!!
That was it. I was done. I opted for a simple glass of wine. But as the waitress began to pour, a peevish young gent came by - clearly an overwrought manager - tersely asking if I'd be any happier if HE made me a cocktail!?!
I shook my head "no" and thanked him for the offer, which he bizarrely made AGAIN with bravado. I assured him that I was okay with the wine and looked forward to dinner. He walked off in a huff.
Thankfully, after all that cocktail commotion, the food was actually pretty good. My Caesar Salad was acceptable - garlicky and graced with salty cured anchovies - and my order of Rigatoni with Crumbled Sausage, Roasted Peppers and Cream was rich and flavorful too.
Keke didn't fair as well. Her appetizer of Pasta Fagioli was rather thin and to make matters worse they didn't even pour her a full bowl. (What was it with this place and half portions on full orders?) But, her main course made up for the appetizer's transgressions - a spicy rendition of Fresh Angel Hair Pasta with Grilled Shrimp, White Wine, Tomato and Parsley.
Still, we both couldn't wait to head back to Keke's place as soon as the dinner plates were whisked away. What can I say? We were both ready for a real drink. No halvsies for us the rest of the evening. In fact, after dealing with Melt, I'd like to super-size that cocktail, please!