TOWN TAVERN AGAIN--GUEST POST

Today's post is from my mother, Bonita Sigmundfreud. Please enjoy her delightful recounting of a grim experience.

Our family probably will stop having birthday dinners in restaurants for the rest of the year at least. So far, our luck has been bad. For my birthday last month, we had dinner at Hong Hua and were terribly disappointed; it certainly is not the splendid restaurant it was a few years ago (see my daughter’s review). Last night, for my husband’s annual 29^th birthday, we tried Town Tavern in Royal Oak.

The restaurant is attractive. There are a few patio tables, and, thanks to doors that run the width of the place and are left open in good weather, the tables in front present an illusion of being outside, too. The interior is clean and sleek, the only drawback being the inevitable television set over the bar. (Can we not lose the tv, folks? Please? It is SO ugly.)

We sat at one of the front tables and enjoyed the breeze while we waited for our server, who was wonderful: professional, thoughtful, and prompt with service. Drinks were lovely, wine was lovely. Our waiter brought a basket of hot bread slices dusted with a little parmesan. Delicious. And the chopped salad my daughter and I shared was very nice.

The whole trouble was the entrees. Drill Press’s (daughter’s) buttermilk fried chicken looked terrific, but she said that the breast meat tasted as though it had been thawed, frozen, and then thawed again. I didn’t try it, but it looked dry. She ate very little of it, and believe me she can pack it away.

The commander’s (husband’s) New York strip was medium, which would have been okay, except that he had ordered it medium rare. And it cost twenty-five bucks for eight ounces. The commander sort of picked at it and left it alone. Luckily the asparagus was all right—a little woody, but all right—and he’d had some bread.

My turkey enchiladas were lousy. I think that they must have taken some diced turkey breast from the refrigerator, rolled the meat up into flour tacos which were placed in a small casserole, spotted with a little tasteless salsa and unidentifiable cheese, and zapped in the microwave. Honestly, there was no flavor to the thing, and it was dry. Really dry.

Our waiter apologized, took the enchiladas off the bill, and asked that we come back and sit at one of his tables again so that he can try to make up for the experience. He was a doll. What is so distressing is that we ordered very simple dinners, and the restaurant couldn’t manage them. I will give the place credit for not serving entrees large enough for three normal people, a common problem today.

There is far much too emphasis on style over food in many of Royal Oak’s restaurants and a tiresome tendency to cater to unattractive singles (or would-be singles) crowds. These people are there only to impress each other and arrange sexual liaisons. They do not deserve to be catered to. Food comes first if the place is called a restaurant. If I have to stay in my own kitchen to get good food, something is wrong. 

~Bonita Sigmundfreud

TOWN TAVERN

Stavros and I had an early Friday dinner at Royal Oak's Town Tavern recently. It was fairly crowded for 6:30, but once inside, we realized it was because everyone in there was old. Or they had kids. Or they were dining exclusively on booze. Nonetheless, the room was pleasantly full, and aside from the odor of fish that greeted us as soon as we opened the doors, the room itself was quite nice-looking and well laid out. Booths in the middle, high-tops in front and low tables in the middle and along the walls. We chose a high-top for two along a mirrored wall because Stavros likes to look at himself frequently.

The waitstaff were upon us at once, which was nice because Stavros and I were very thirsty. The day's specials, all fish (which accounted for the parfum de poisson), were written on two blackboards, one thirty feet away behind some hostessy-types, and one on the wall next to the mirror reflecting Stavros's undeniably striking visage, which I was able to read aloud to him by contorting my body into a spiral and leaning backward slightly. 

Since I am so picky, I chose the one entree I wouldn't have to decimate to make edible, the pan-seared turkey. Stavros ordered the grilled swordfish. We both asked for the house chopped salad. When the drinks had been brought, so too was a bread basket. "Crazy Bread," pronounced Stavros, and I peered into the deep wire basket and saw that yep, it was basically Crazy Bread, albeit short Crazy Bread. Since I hate cheese I was put off but Stavros ate a piece and didn't make a face or anything so I assume it was decent.

Within moments of ordering, possibly fewer than five, the waitress returned with the salads. I was pretty startled as the quickness, and said so, and she quipped, "Well, that's what we're pretty much known for!" I wondered about this, since the Town Tavern didn't strike me as the sort of place to go if you're in some ass-on-fire rush, but maybe the idea of a super-hasty dinner appeals to their clientele. So we ate the salad. It was as advertised: chopped. Chopped Romaine, chopped red onion, chopped cucumber, and chopped tomato. All very tiny pieces in a mustardy vinaigrette. Oh, and garbanzo beans. It was good, but the plate was chilled, which I hate. I understand most people want salad that will freeze their fillings (don't they?) but I happen to prefer something a little closer to room temperature, and since everything is done at breakneck speed at the Town Tavern, I hardly think a room-temp plate would interfere with a raw vegetable experience. Especially since there was about one cup of salad on the plate. How long could it take to eat? Anyway, it was still good. I just have a thing about a chilled plate.

The entrees arrived as soon as the salads were whisked away (surprise!). They certainly looked nice. Stavros's grilled swordfish was atop a pile of stir-fried bok choy and a spoonful of some kind of pineapple salsa was on top of the fish. Three lumps of deep-fried basmati rice/coconut fritters sat adjacent. I asked for a small bite of the fish and of course some blackish vein or something came off on the piece I took and frankly, that was enough to put me off, but I tried it anyway. It was a bit dry. The coconut fritter was decent--mildly sweet and squishy on the inside and crunchy on the outside. Stavros remarked that the fish was indeed dry all over and the whole affair could have used more of the "sauce." 

My turkey was not exactly what I'd had in mind. When you think "pan-seared turkey breast," don't you think of some nice thin fillet, maybe with some brown skin? That's what I thought. But no. It was three or four thick triangles of breast meat that had been sauteed, skinless, and presented around a glob of mashed potatoes (which were VERY good with bits of fresh sage rampant) and a tablespoon of tart, fresh cranberry relish, which was also good and I don't normally like cranberry sauce. On top of the turkey being a bit of a drag, the "gravy" was an abomination. I understand that "pan-searing" these great skinless chunks will result in zero juice from which to make gravy, but it can be managed. What curled in a big gelatinous C around the perimeter of half my plate was like half-melted caramel-colored jello of no discernable flavor. Actually I thought it tasted vaguely of my ultimate food nemesis, cheese, but I know there could have been none present. Stavros agreed that it was vile. I finished before he and I have to tell you now that the waitress committed what I consider to be the biggest sin in food service: She tried to take my plate away when Stavros was still eating. I wouldn't let her. Don't do that! I know you're in a hellsapoppin' big hurry to get us out of there so you can race someone else through dinner, but leave my goddamned plate on the table until everyone is finished! No one wants to be the only person left eating. 

We did not order dessert but I believe they had the standard four chocolate things. They did also have Ray's ice cream in special flavors, maybe daily. I think the night we were there it was coffee. Sick! 

Other items of note:

• The ladies' room was pretty nice and clean

• I don't think they allow smoking