I Expected More - Restaurant at The Getty Center Los Angeles - Buy Reservations
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😒 3/5 - I Expected More
By 👻 @Jeanne H, 01/11/2020 3:00 am
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I flew into LA a day early, before leaving on a long trip out of the country, specifically to visit the Getty and to eat at the restaurant there. Both had eluded me each time I was in the city and this time I was determined to do both. The art museum was beyond words—awesome is not even close to describing its ambience, its architecture, and its glorious collection. The restaurant, however, didn’t even come close to matching it. I had read all the glowing reviews and came prepared to be amazed. I booked online as soon as reservations opened. And when I got there, it reminded me of Terzo Piano, the restaurant in the Chicago Museum of Art. The interior was bland, almost antiseptic, and it felt more like I was in a large cafeteria space than an elegant restaurant. Despite booking months in advance, I was given a table for two next to a busy staging area for the busboys. My view? Dominated by a pillar. My server was charming but clearly handling way too many tables. I think she was happy when I asked if she thought a specific wine would go with my entree because that meant she didn’t have to offer any other choice as a suggestion. She just said it would be great. The entree was my biggest disappointment. My trout fillets were swimming in butter and seriously over salted, making the dish nearly inedible. Maybe I just chose the worst thing on the menu. Maybe the kitchen was having an off day. But I’ve had better meals at way less famous places—thus my high expectations and keen disappointment. I did get gluten free crackers to replace the bread basket and for that I was thankful. One final thing, my table was the only one without a small potted cactus as the “floral” arrangement. When the couple sitting next to me left, a staff member came over to bus their table and he knocked over their plant. Dirt and cracked pottery went everywhere around my feet. He didn’t ask if I was ok and, when he went off to get a broom, a manager came over, looked at the broken pot and then looked at me and said “Well this happens,” clearly assuming I had knocked it off my table. I replied, “Yes, I imagine that it can sometimes be difficult for the staff to bus a table without occasionally breaking something.” He seemed startled at my response, hopefully because he realized he had blamed me for the mess. I sat there as they cleaned the dirt and broken pottery around my feet, finished my wine, paid my bill and left. Oh, and my server never asked if if I enjoyed my meal. Sigh.
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