Uncle Roger's Notebooks of Daily Life

Biltmore Cafe

We had dinner tonight at the Biltmore Cafe in Crystal Bay, Nevada. Unfortunately, it wasn't a positive experience.

There was a line to be seated -- not unheard of and certainly acceptable. I took the kids over by the cash register to wait to try and get away from the cigarette smoke that was so persuasive in the casino area. Eventually, we got a table, and eventually a waitress came to take our orders. Instead of taking drink orders and giving us time to peruse the menu, she wanted our dinner orders as well. Oh, and despite what I had been told on the phone an hour prior, they did not have a children's menu. Had we been told that on the phone, we would have gone elsewhere. We placed our orders and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Evenutally, our food came.

I had the prime rib special -- a 12 ounce cut with soup, fries and veg for $8. Sounds like a good deal. Unfortunately, mine was cold. My father-in-law's was mildly warm and my mother-in-law's was okay. I told the waitress and she took it back. I watched her as she took it behind the counter and put it in the microwave. She then went off to do other things, including taking orders at another table. Evenutally, she remembered my meal, went and pulled it out of the microwave, and brought it to me -- no warmer than when I sent it back. It was a nice piece of meat, however, and my in-laws enjoyed theirs' despite the temperature issue.

Rachel had chicken marsala. She didn't eat much of it so I gave it a try. I'm not sure I would call the chicken dry, but it was certainly next in line for that description. The sauce was unexciting. The vegetables were good all around, though. For the kids, we ordered fettucini with alfredo sauce and chicken. This seemed to be the bargain of the evening -- there was certainly a lot of it. It was rather bland, according to Rachel who had some of the leftovers.

The real problem with the place wasn't the food -- it was all adequate for what we paid and what it was. The problem was the horribly slow service. The restaurant was severely understaffed and the existing staff could not handle the volume of business. Despite there being a long line of people waiting to be seated, tables sat empty or uncleared for long periods. Rachel's soda wandered around the restaurant for a while until the guy delivering it came close enough that we could get his attention. Then a second, smaller soda showed up later. The kids' milks took a long time to show up as well.

Despite all this, the waitress did her best; it wasn't her fault, really. She was pleasant, and even brought extra crackers for the kids. The problem was a management issue. It was a holiday weekend, probably the last one of the ski season, and the management had not adequately prepared for it.

Related Links Tahoe Biltmore Tahoe Biltmore Dining

[ Posted: 20:30 | home | print ]

Doesn't it just completely suck when you want to scream and rant but know with utter frustration that you can't because you'd be directing it at the wrong person? I had that feeling in the post office the other day. I politely asked for the address of who I could "talk my issue over with", got it, went home, grabbed paper and pen, and then let the bastards in charge have it at full blast. Then I felt better.

Posted by Alice

Ranting

That's what a journal is for! 8^)

Posted by Uncle Roger