Last night something unusual happened – I got seriously annoyed. ‘I’ve never seen you go mental like that Maz,’ my friend exclaimed. ‘One minute you were laughing, the next minute you were so serious!’ another laughed. What could cause little meek me to get my assertive on? FOOD, OBVIOUSLY.
I went to Bubba Gump in Santa Monica, CA, last year – it was amazing. I had the dish called ‘I’m Stuffed’, which consisted of shrimps stuffed with crab topped off with grilled cheese on a bed of jasmine rice and a slice of garlic bread. Delish.
So they open a branch on our side of the pond this year and I was excited. It is located a minutes’ walk from Piccadilly Circus, which really is never a good sign given that it’s quite the tourist trap. You enter the restaurant through a gift shop – sooo USA – and head upstairs to a cosy eatery.
Service was extremely quick and our waitress was very attentive (thanks Josie). We got shrimp mac and cheese and cajun shrimp to share for starters at around £8 each. Now, it was all very visually pleasant – but I know good food, and I had just paid £8 for some prawns in a cajun seasoned oil and another £8 for what tasted like Bachelors cheese pasta with some prawns thrown in. K.
Next up was the mains. My friends opted for shrimp New Orleans, but I went for the lobster roll which comes with fries and coleslaw. The lobster was tasteless – I could vision its journey from the freezer to my plate. The fries were fine, the roll was dry… it came with no garlic butter, which it needed – it was all so tasteless and compared to what is offered at Burger and Lobster for approximately £3 more, unbelievably poor. My friends were equally unhappy with their dishes, laughing as they tried to save the shrimps from the pungent sauce they were swimming in.
I (genuinely dude) rarely complain at restaurants, but we decide to tell the manager we’re unhappy when he stops at our table – only for him to insist the food ‘is gorgeous’. Nope, it isn’t. He then says whilst he appreciates feedback, ‘the chef has been working his socks off all day to cook’. This is where I start to get a bit annoyed, responding that we’ve worked our socks off all day to pay for this meal – and isn’t the customer nearly always right? Apparently not. I got more wound up as he became more defensive.
Eventually we left after Josie gave us our free cups ‘as a reminder of our amazing night’, to which the whole table burst into involuntary laughter. It goes without saying that I would have to be foolish to return, but I enjoyed the free cup.
And there you have it! Wanna mess with my emotions, mess with my food.