9. May 2008 21:51
Attn: James Vold, GM, Eva Longoria, ???
6350 Hollywood Blvd
Hollywood CA 90028
Dear Mr. Vold,
On Friday, May 9th, in the year of our Lord and Savior, 2008, I dined in your new Hollywood restaurant: Beso and toward the end of dinner, I would have enjoyed nothing more than to present myself to the chef, remove my trousers and force him to Beso my big, hairy ass with a pinch of salt.
It is common for a celebrity to open a restaurant that she “does not want to be one of those celebrity restaurants” only to have it then follow the script as closely as a teleprompter. Naturally, the scene was great. Lots of the requisite pretty people trying their hardest to look casual and fabulously well designed interior trying its hardest not to look ethnic. Who could ask for anything more? From a bar. From a restaurant, one could, and indeed should, ask for a little extra.
We were seated 30 minutes late even though our table was “being set” for at least 15. I assumed that the rage in Hollywood has become hiring bus staff that move like glaciers. But then, my partner in dine was bumped at least a dozen times by various employees who were moving around far too quickly to avoid obstacles and wore the dedicated expression known to waiters (and evidently glacial bus persons) that discourages stupid customer requests such as: “May I have some more water?” Where were these people when we needed a table? They could have bumped other diners clean across the dining room and then reset the table like a champion cup stacker.
Then came the food. How did thou gag me? Let me count the ways:
- If one charges US$14 for a tablespoon of guacamole, one should probably lace it with illegal narcotics or gold flakes or something. There is no such thing as a U$14 tablespoon of guac. Or was the price in Pesos? Damn. I should have looked.
- Being white and stupid, I sometimes can’t tell between products of Indian and Mexican DNA. But I can certainly tell between their food. Why serve Nan bread at a Latin-themed restaurant?
- Grilled shrimp should require neither a cleaver nor a personal crab claw to enjoy. All it should require is a little prep work in the kitchen. Anything else isn’t kosher.
- Skirt steak is skirt steak. It’s either raw or burnt. When did people start getting the impression that skirt steak was Filet Mignon? I guess when it started costing US$29.
Overall, if I can say one thing to help out your future bloated customers it is this: LAY OFF THE SALT! I seriously thought that I was going to shrivel unless I got some water pronto but, of course, no matter how prominently I placed my empty glass, no one could be bothered to refill it. I looked for salvation in the remnants of the Nan bread which seemed to have (only) 4 spoons full of salt sprinkled on but definitely could have used an intravenous drip after finishing my skirt steak. It may have skirted on many things but covered the old Sodium Chloride as thoroughly as a long denim skirt covers an Orthodox chick.
If I were smarter and more driven, I’d open up a bottled water stand on your sidewalk. Then I’d have the most profitable 9 months in business history.