Post #135970 by Kono on Mon, Jan 17, 2005 11:51 AM

I'm certainly not a bon vivant but that guy's full of shit. I was at Trader Vics last Saturday and Sunday and my experience was nothing like what this reviewer supposedly experienced. Did the appearance of the article in Sunday's paper effect the behavior of staff on Sunday night, possible but doubtful.

It feels as if the original never closed. Service is solicitous if you're known, dismissive if you're not.

Complete bullshit. We let them know from the beginning that we were nobodies from out of town and that we dig TV and tiki bars. The bartenders were very friendly, even talking recipes with me, the waiter was courteous and efficient and the manager (err..."captain") was a little weird but talked to us at length about TVs and even sold me one of their centerpiece oil lamps.

The food -- a mix of Asian and Continental -- is a two-note ode to salty and sweet.

Again, I may not be as "sophisticated" as Mr Bauer but I did not find this to be the case. I was very pleased with my appetizer and entree.

The handsome Stars interior looks as if it's been redone in Polynesian kitsch for a one-night debutante party, with a wooden boat and glass buoys hanging from the ceiling.

I don't know anything about Stars but it sounds as if this reviewer misses the place. I didn't feel as if the decor is kitschy (admittedly, my perspective, as yours, is different from the reviewer) at all. Classy tiki. The Tonga room was kitschy, not TVs. Hell, if Mr Bauer saw my apartment he'd probably seize up into a fetal position, foaming at the mouth, and have to be medevaced to the nearest Robb and Stuckey or Rooms to Go to recuperate.

If your name or face is not recognized, trying to get a prime-time reservation is a challenge or, in our case, impossible.

Fiction. This ass should be flogged, drawn and quartered, then litigated into oblivion. Maybe they did recognize his face and that's why he couldn't get a table.

Fact: Went on Saturday night and didn't even think that we'd need a reservation. The hostess (same one in Unga Bunga's vid) said she'd do what she could but we could eat at the bar if we want. We waited a while and no table became available so we ate appetizers at the bar. At that point we made a reservation for 6:30 pm the next night (Sunday). No problem. Before leaving we decided to change our reservation to 7:30 pm. Again, no problem.

After repeated failures, we simply showed up -- once after 9:30 p.m. on a weekend and another time around 6 p.m. early in the week. The hostess looked at us with pity as she consulted her book, making us feel like patients waiting for the doctor to deliver a dreaded diagnosis. After some furrowed brows and fumbling, she gave us good news but warned that we'd have to be out the door in an hour and 20 minutes.

Y'know, maybe Mr Bauer smells like pee or something. The hostesses were as friendly as can be expected. Maybe because everyone in SF is very friendly (they are IMO) Mr Bauer doesn't know what it's like to be treated in a dismissive manner.

We were escorted to a dining room alongside the impressive bar, which looks nearly identical to what it did during the Stars heyday.

Yeah, he misses Stars. Deal with it!

Our seating area was defined by a tacky rock wall that's filled with orchids and helps to reinforce the quirky theme.

Quirky? Loser.

We received menus promptly, but the waiter disappeared for 15 minutes before reappearing with a tray filled with glasses of water that he delivered to three tables. It took another 10 minutes for him to return to take our order.

I did not experience this.

Two captains in dark suits continually surveyed the dining room but mostly conferred with each other, set up a tray stand for a waiter and removed a single dish from an "important'' table that had obviously been misdirected into steerage.

Bullshit again. One of the "captains" pre-bussed our table after the appetizer, that's how I got to talking with him. We sat in "steerage" by the way. I guess a brute like me wouldn't know the difference.

One of them presented each diner at that table with his business card, presumably so that on the next visit they would take their rightful places in the Captain's Cabin, located on the opposite side of the room in what was once the most coveted section of Stars.

Forget about Stars! It's gone!

Here, the tables seem farther apart, and each is set with a nautical hurricane lantern, something missing from the other tables.

Damn, I knew something was lacking in our dining experience: hurricane lanterns! Now I feel cheated.

This two-tiered system can work only if the staff is savvy and smartly trained; on my three visits, the floor crew seemed ill-equipped to handle even remedial tasks.

Petulant asshole. This sorry excuse for a reviewer obviously has some sort of agenda. "the floor crew seemed ill-equipped to handle even remedial tasks." Hyperbole like that just makes the entire review worthless.

It's more the exception when they place the correct order in front of the right person. Waits between courses can be long, and if you want another drink or need water, you'll likely have to flag someone down.

Petty, mean-spirited and untrue per my experience.

For the price, the food needs to be much, much better, too.

I did not have one item that he critiqued. The nature of the rest of his article causes me to give him zero credibility as a reviewer so I have no reason to believe him on his food reviews. (For someone who has the ultimate difficulty in getting a table, he sure did have the opportunities to try a large portion of the menu)

For appetizers we had (me) the ahi, salmon and scallop tartares, with taro chips, which I loved enough to get the next night. My friend had the spring roll which she said was good but not worth the price. For entrees I had the seared ahi and she had the Indonesian rack of lamb and both were excellent. Of course, I'm not prejudiced by missing my favorite restaurant "Stars" nor am I obsessed about seeing a "two-tiered" service conspiracy and wondering who gets to sit at a table with a hurricane lamp. So take it for what it's worth.

We noticed an empty table in the Captain's Cabin, so we inquired about being seated there, only to be told that it wasn't available. After being seated next to the popular bar where the tables are packed in too tight for comfort...

I'm not a little guy and I had no problems. I even got up and went to the bathroom and didn't overturn even one of the neighboring tables! Asshat.

I was recognized as a reviewer.

And that's what it's all about isn't it?

Service this time around was attentive, but still not very professional, and the food was marginal.

And it took sooo long for them to recognize me!

At least this time we got the iced Jamaican chocolate parfait and were surprised to find that it was basically a chilled ganache with an intense bitter edge.

Anyone who uses a phrase such as "a chilled ganache with an intense bitter edge" around me stands a chance of getting socked in the kisser. j/k

Orange cream caramel ($7) had been hanging around the kitchen long enough to pick up a vague oysterlike flavor,

What? Has this guy ever worked in a kitchen? What a loon.

and the raspberries around the perimeter tasted as if they were beginning to ferment.

FYI, fermentation is a good thing.

It was then I realized that the two-tiered system employed at Trader Vic's is an illusion;

Nope, you're wrong about that. A 33rd degree Scottish Rite Mason friend of mine has assured me that the section of tables with the hurricane lamps is the favorite haunt of the West Coast Illuminati.

To fulfill our fantasy, Trader Vic's needs to move into the 21st century.

And change it's name to Stars. Who cares about your fantasy loser? My fantasy would be to watch you try and swim from Alcatraz to Fisherman's Wharf with me tossing great globs of bloody tuna in the water around you.

However, like the food, the finished product varies in quality, depending on who's behind the bar. It may be the home of the original Mai Tai, created at Trader Vic's in 1944, but on one visit the bartender must not have been following the recipe because the results were watery. Most times there's so much crushed ice in the drinks they look more like a snow cones than whistle- wetters. When you're paying anywhere from $8 to $12, the tab adds up fast.

Bleh, my drinks were great though I only experienced two different bartenders. As I said, I may not be a gourmet but I do know my liquor tolerance and my drinks were definitely not "watery" nor like a snow cone and I did get quite intoxicated.

I do not have any credibility as a critic of food and drink, but I can tell you that Mr Bauer's tale of woeful service and of being unable to get a reservation is fiction. And thus I consider the rest of the article to be just as credible. Up your ass Mr Bauer.

Damn, I wasted a chunk of afternoon typing this.