Alta

No, not the ski area in Utah, but the tapas bar in the West Village.  Everybody talks about Alta, and after the ninth or tenth time somebody recommended it to me, I decided to check it out for myself.

With Mike leaving for London again on Saturday evening, we thought that this would be the perfect way to send him back across the pond.  As soon as we arrived at Alta, I loved it.  The cozy, vine-covered townhouse was alluring and inviting, and I love a good restaurant that doesn’t flash its name on the exterior.

Since we made a reservation, we were seated immediately, but the fine service stopped right there.  Our waiter was slow as molasses and even forgot about our order.  He claimed that “it was lost” in the kitchen.

We had a large table of businessmen sitting behind us, so our waiter paid us no attention, and focused all of it on the seven suits behind us (think he was in it for the tips, or what?).  Once we realized that everybody around us had gotten their food and drinks, we finally had to say something.  Even though we waited an hour for our food (at a tapas bar… are you kidding?), the waiter didn’t offer to comp any of our order, which left us with a sour taste in our mouths.

Our order included the following:

  • 2 Jalapeno Margaritas

  • Grilled Smoked Mozzarella Skewer

  • Angus Beef Slider in Turkish Yufka Pastry

  • Spaghetti Pepperoncini

  • Enormous Whole Shrimp (aka a mutant squid infused with steroids.  You better believe I had one bite and about vomited).  See below for a visual.

  • Skirt Steak

The margarita had a bit of a kick to it (obviously), but I enjoyed it.  The Grilled Mozzarella was tasty, as was the Angus Beef Slider and the Skirt Steak.  I didn’t mind the Spaghetti either, but the Enormous Shrimp was yes, enormous, and hardly edible.  Although I loved the feel and the decor of this restaurant, the terrible service we experienced will not bring me back anytime soon.

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