Here's what I imagined: a cozy, rich-coloured, well-decorated, full service chocolate restaurant, complete with some kind of dark chocolate cake/cheese cake/mousse served with raspberry coulis and real whipped cream (the real, real stuff, not the canned stuff). I imagined you would be able to hide away in this little chocolate cafe, somehow able to watch the world go by, while enjoying perfect privacy.
Instead, it was like a chocolate diner, complete with large, ugly display coolers, one of which wasn't in use and stuck out like a sore thumb. There were large, illuminated signs advertising their chocolate desserts and a large screen TV, instead of art or at least pictures of cacao beans or something. Some of the tables had high back leather chairs, which were great, but they were pushed up to small, wobbly diner tables. There was no privacy to be had, not from your fellow diners or the passerbyers below, as there were no nooks or crannies to hide away in, just an open dining room and no draperies on the big windows. We grabbed a leather-like covered binder full of pictures of the desserts offered and hummed and hawed for at least a half hour, as nothing jumped out (except the $15 "Death by Chocolate" number). We had to walk up to the counter to place our order and pay. Later, our "server" found us at our table to tell me they didn't have the white chocolate mocha, which was the recommended beverage item. Someone else managed to find us later to bring us our drinks and desserts. They were very well presented, but the overall atmosphere was just all wrong. I couldn't get over how disappointed I was. And where was my dark chocolate cake with raspberry coulis?
I went to use the restroom before we left, just in case. I didn't really have to go that badly, but since we were there... well, ugh GROSS! The women's restroom was "out of service" for whatever reason and men's restroom was disgusting! I don't use a lot of men's restrooms, but this was revolting. It looked like someone had stood on the rim of the toilet (for whatever reason) in their yucky winter boots. The taps and sink were dirty dirty dirty, too. Ugh. It was so bad, I had to tell the staff on our way out. That's just too much. Good thing I didn't have to go that badly.
It only now occurred to me that we didn't tip our servers. When you pay up at the front ahead of time, you don't think to pull out your wallet later. Too much like fast food. I imagine that happens to them a lot; it must stink to work there. And you're still expected to clean the yucky bathrooms. At least we didn't have to get a key to use them.
Anyways, Death to Chocolate, Wound by Chocolate would be far more fitting names for the little chocolate diner with the confused image on Whyte Ave.
No comments:
Post a Comment