I don’t want to make it seem like life is simply a swift brush stroke of negativity but my money is very important to me.It’s kind of like if we were dating and I give you my heart and you pass me a plate of unseasoned lackluster love with a side of bad sex and a tall glass of disappointment. When I give you my money, I expect that you respect it and treat it with dignity and respect. I don’t give it away lightly.
I preface this post this way because my coworker said my last review was negative. As the price goes up so does my expectations. Oh, it gets so real as that price increases.
My mom and I went on a road trip a couple Fridays ago to Asheville, North Carolina. It’s the place that I tried to trick her into going to the time we ended up in Pigeon Ford. I wanted to go to the Biltmore Mansion and I thought I researched this properly but apparently not because we arrived there and I went to buy the $19 dollar tickets for my mom and me, I saw the entrance fee was $60 ..PER PERSON. This was just to get through the gate and see the place.
I had to take a step back and make sure that I was reading this correctly. And I almost walked out the door fighting everybody because I felt like I was personally attacked by the sheer audacity.
So it’s $60 per person to get through the gate and then $19 dollars per person to go on an audio tour. I don’t care if I had Mark Cuban money, I’m never paying $160 to go through a gate and entertain myself. Needless to say, we left but not before encountering the gift shop. The one place that did not require an entrance fee.
I don’t fault the Biltmore for my half sleep researching. I’m sure when I meet Mark Cuban and he pays for my entrance fee, I will enjoy the hell out of the mansion and its gardens.
I bought a postcard for my friend and a book of postcards for my collection and we went to this restaurant called Blackbird
Now I chose this restaurant because I have been raised with my nose in the air. The pictures were amazing and it had a different menu. I had initially chosen this brewery/bar that is a short walk to the Blackbird but they were closed transitioning to the dinner menu so I had to find another place to break bread.
The reviews raved about the food, atmosphere and suggested that we get a reservation because it can get busy.
We arrive and the place was completely empty with the exception of the staff. I felt ridiculous saying that we had a reservation. When we were seated we were handed the menu and I glossed over it and I again had the urge to fight once again looking over the prices on the menu but it was no problem. I don’t mind spending my money on great food.
Here lies the problems. I ordered ceviche ($12) and a burger (medium) and fries ($18). My mom ordered a spinach salad ($13).
Did you catch my order?
Did you catch my mom’s order?
Understandably, we went over the menu and noticed the prices on the menu. I picked the cheapest meal on the menu because the steak meal ($45) came with risotto and I hate risotto and nothing else peaked my interest.
What I didn’t understand was the waiter asking us if we were splitting the burger and fries.
In all of my life visiting fine dining, fast food, or chain restaurants I have never had a waiter ask me if we were splitting a meal. Maybe an extra plate for a child but no one has ever asked us if an adult needed an extra plate to share food. I made my order, she made her order, and if she wanted something else, she would have ordered it. Them be the rules to ordering food.
I roll my eyes and forget about it. I get my ceviche and she gets her salad. From my understanding, ceviche is supposed to have a bold flavor with spices. It’s one of the things I planned on trying when I went to Belize but because I have never noticed it on a menu before I wanted to try it. They must have missed the bold flavor memo because what they served me was a small plate of boiled shrimp with tiny bits of onion and tomato. The pieces were so small that it was almost pointless to have them on the plate.
My mom enjoyed her salad. I mean how can you screw up a salad? We wait 15-20 minutes for my burger to come out while swatting away flies that danced around our table. I mean, if I specifically ask for a medium burger, where is the pink inside my burger? And not only that when another person brought out my burger, they asked me again, if I needed another plate to split the burger.
Did they think that I had some sense of pride? That I was ashamed to share a burger and that someone else had to ask me? If I wanted to split my burger…FIGHT ME!
Bite into the burger and it has this overwhelming burnt flavor with the chewiest bacon. Fries looked and tasted like leftover fried potato scraps. I could not. Did not. I can’t.
I paid $18 dollars for an overcooked burger and diet potato fries.
I don’t even feel like doing the review chart because there was nothing good to say about this restaurant outside of…it’s cute.
The next time I choose a restaurant I’m going to a hole in the wall to see if there will be a drastic difference because these yuppies all glitz and no flavor.