Big John

Note to self: if a restaurant's name sounds in any way peculiar and not food friendly, don't eat there. I learned my lesson the hard way. When I told someone at work the name of the restaurant I took friends to she laughed in my face. "I wouldn't have gone near that place with a ten foot pole." While I appreciated her sense of humor and snarkiness, I'm still sensitive to what was a forgettable and regrettable dining experience.

The night promised to be a fun one. It started with the "Face Your Fears" haunted house, which turned out to be a disappointment. It takes about a half hour to walk through the dozen or so rooms representing some of the different "phobias" we have. I was more scared throughout the day thinking about what it would be like than I was actually walking through it. That aside, I'm still glad I tried something new.

After the haunted house we headed to dinner at, don't laugh, Big John, where I was able to get a table at the last minute for nine people. I know, but it was one of my last choices, and every other place in the area could not seat nine people at the time I wanted. Big John happens to be in the same location as what used to be one of my favorite restaurants in the city Kitchen and Cocktails. I was curious what was in its place now and if it compared at all to the beloved and missed K&C.

We walked up to the door and right away noticed a big empty restaurant. My mind and stomach were screaming, "Run for the hills!" but I knew I had called the place a couple times adding one or two people to the reservation, they were expecting us, and it would have been poor dining etiquette to bail.

Grievance #1: no greeting. We walked in and nobody said "Boo!" to us, asked us who we were, if we wanted to sit, eat, or grab a drink at the bar. We awkwardly walked up to the bar where BigBlueBabe was waiting for us. I saw a long nine-top set so I knew we were expected. After hugs and hellos, a server finally asked if we wanted to sit at our table.

Grievance #2: slow and wrong drinks. The server took our drink orders, and I couldn't quite understand why it took so long to get them. We were two feet away from the bar, it's not like he had to go on a hike to get them. We were still the only customers in the place. I ordered a dirty Goose martini, and it came without olive juice. Instead of waiting for the inattentive server, I went to the bar and asked for some "dirty" myself. Later on I heard from the far end of the table my friend KAdler ordered a rum and coke and somehow ended up with a tequila and coke. Maybe they drink that in Tijuana but I'm certain KAdler was grossed out. Not only were orders fumbled, but the server would take one drink order and zip away, not asking anyone else if they needed anything. A few times we were left ignored with our arms still raised, like we were in kindergarten waiting for the teacher to call on us. The tab would have quadrupled had our server been more aggressive with the drink orders.

Once the drinking momentum picked up and a smorgasbord of appetizers came out everything seemed fine. Friends sitting closest to me ordered ceviche. It was decent, but a little too heavy on the dressing. It was soggy and didn't taste crisp and fresh. It was as if the dressing was there to cover something up. Another friend ordered the tomato and mozzarella salad. What was odd about this was the mozzarella tasted like a tough block of Pollyo. It wasn't fresh mozzarella (a sacrilege in my family). The one good thing that came out was my bacon-wrapped scallops. The bacon wasn't too overcooked and its juices blended well with the scallops.

Dinner surprisingly came out all at once. They got something right. I ordered a tuna steak and the friend next to me ordered the surf and turf, which was supposed to be filet mignon and lobster. I got my tuna, but was more interested in what everybody else ordered around me, so I didn't notice what was sitting in front of me until I grabbed my fork to dig in. The last plate to come to the table was the surf and turf.

Grievance #3: shrimp posing as lobster. The filet Photog thought he ordered ended up being a large flat New York strip steak and where there was supposed to be lobster there were three shrimp. The server didn't flinch an inch when he placed the plate down in front of my friend. But boy, my friend flinched. He asked, "What the heck is this?" The server, who barely spoke or understood English, mentioned they ran out of lobster and were serving shrimp instead. Then came the best line of the whole night, "Would you like a few more shrimp with that?" Herein lies the problem. The server did not mention when Photog ordered the surf and turf that they didn't have lobster, which is fine. But when the order went to the kitchen the chef should have told the server, who then should have told us there was no lobster, and that would have given Photog a chance to order something else. Someone dropped the ball and we were not pleased.

Grievance #4: tuna that's not rare is not tuna. I didn't even have to cut the tuna to realize it was charred and may as well have been a swordfish steak for my mom (mom loves everything from steak to burgers to fish well done). I signaled to the server and told him I had asked for rare or still swimming. He mumbled something and took it back. The next thing I knew he came to the table with a silly frown on his face and said they were out of tuna. WHATTTT!?!? I was flabbergasted. It wouldn't surprise me had the place been hopping from floor to ceiling, but we were still the only people in the restaurant. With that I asked for the menu to order something else. "Nevermind, just make me a burger," I said. Meanwhile, my friend Photog is freaking out about the surf and turf. I'll call it shrimp and skimp. They did end up bringing out a new plate with a nicer piece of meat on it but there was nothing to be done about the lack-lobster. The server brought out a few pieces of scallops to ease the pain but it didn't make a difference. Photog had already lost his appetite, as I was getting ready to do myself.

Among all the fuss, I had gone to the manager and asked him to kindly remove the two incorrect items off the tab. He was a soft-spoken sweetheart and extremely apologetic about the whole incident. He explained they're trying to change the menu and right now they're in between menus and in between chefs. The manager was so adorable I almost offered to work for him. I probably could have done a better job than who he had working the line that night.

As I continued to sip on my martini and eat pieces of everybody else's meals, mine was still TBD. I noticed the manager step out and I was worried. A few minutes later he walked in with a small white plastic bag and I had a feeling. Did he just buy me another tuna steak? Turns out my intuition was right. This made me feel horribly guilty for making a stink, but as a friend pointed out, it's his job to make sure the kitchen has enough of everything they need and if they don't, well, it's his problem. When round two of tuna came out it was still nowhere near as raw as I would have wanted but there was no turning it back this time. I ate every last bit of it with a smile and professed my undying gratitude to the manager. If it wasn't for him, the night would have been completely ruined and I thanked him for that. In addition to him going out to get me tuna (I was still charged for it, nothing that was screwed up was on the house), the manager bought each of us a drink, which again, was extremely appreciated.

Grievance #5: sneaky large automatic gratuity with no warning. If our server had been as charismatic as George Clooney I would have doubled the gratuity. But he was miserable and we agreed undeserving of the added gratuity, which at Big John is 20%. It was outrageous, but how much more could go wrong? We couldn't get out of there fast enough.


199 Orchard St, between Houston & Stanton St
212-353-2731