Or to hell. Whatever, it’s a new year, so let’s just give these things a rest, shall we?
- As a dedicated and daily espresso drinker (addicted? Who, me?), nothing chaps my hide more than receiving a bowl of those cursed cubes of light brown sugar that take, oh, five minutes to dissolve into my espresso. Look, I’m all down with you using some natural/non-bleached/non-C&H refined sugar, but let’s use one that dissipates before my freaking coffee gets cold, okay? Damned hippie sugar. Granulated is good. (And don’t even get me started on the random twists of lemon rind that sometimes appear alongside my espresso. What the hell? Save it for my cocktail—because you are driving me to drink.)
- While we’re on it, dear servers, please stop offering me a cappuccino after dinner. And did someone really just offer me a latte at 10pm? Yeah, nothing like a big, steaming glass of hot milk and two espresso shots after a five-course dinner. The Italians have it right—save the hot milk espresso drinks for the morning (exception: artists, DJs, and other late-night types who wake up late).
- Restaurants that blatantly announce or promote their secret menu items. Uh, where’s the discovery in that? And you get zero cred for that move, I mean, come ON. Unless you’re In-N-Out, I don’t need to know about your BIG SECRET MENU ITEMS unless I become a regular and you’ve been open for at least a year. So zip it.
- Nom. Nom nom nom. Noms. Nomz. (Oh yeah, and “sammies.” What is this, Foodie Romper Room?)
- Sliders. Just seeing that word makes my skin crawl.
- Pop-up. Another one that is beginning to bug, partly because of the misuse and omnipresence of the term. The next thing that’s gonna pop up is my middle finger. Don’t get me wrong, I love all these temporary “one night only” business appearances. And I guess that’s why people say “pop-up,” because it’s quicker than saying “temporary” or “one night only.” I have no answers. I’m just bitching. Next!
- Uncomfortable seats. How am I expected to sit through a meal on a cold metal bench, a cushion-less wood banquette, a small wooden barstool with hard edges, or worst of all, those damned vintage Tolix metal chairs that dig into my hips and are only meant for skinny French bitches? I know they look cool. But in actuality, they’re the worst: they’re made out of cold metal, and they make my ass look big. Uh, thanks.
- The Ike’s saga. Jesus H. Christ. It’s open. It’s closed. It’s open. It’s moving. It’s staying. It’s opening elsewhere. Ahhhhhh! It was like the the Wikileaks of the local food media scene. Can’t believe Ike’s is in “the bore” yet again this year. Make. It. Stop.
- Restaurants constantly retweeting compliments from guests about themselves. So tacky. Unless you are revealing some insider tip about your business through said retweet, let’s lay off all the tweets that start with a “Thank you!!!” and then end with the remaining 140 characters of self-flattery. Yeah, we get it, someone thinks you’re freaking great. Why don’t you just forward all these compliments to your mother? Oh wait, she’s probably the reason you’re needing all this additional approval from everyone. Whatever, go get more therapy and cool it on the self-congratulatory RTs.
- Useless restaurant websites. I can’t believe I have to go over the basics, but here goes:
- no flash intro (thanks for wasting my time for 20 seconds, can I just get the information I’m looking for?)
- hell, no flash at all (how do you expect all these iPhone/iPad users to look at your website?)
- um, why the eff don’t you have your hours listed?
- LIST YOUR GODDAMN CROSS STREET—why are you making me go to Google Maps to find you? (Rude.)
- no music (you hear me? Stop it! No one likes that song but you. It sucks. I don’t care if there’s a stop or pause button for it. You’re not a DJ or music label, so lay off the tunes. I mean it. Someone is gonna get a spanking.)
- phone numbers that spell something (just give me the digits, yo—you’re not a cab company I’m trying to remember when I’m drunk)
- old menus (thanks for sharing that menu from 2007 with the Chilean sea bass on it)
- menus without prices (shady)
- and I know this is a pet peeve for some: PDF menus. But I disagree on that one—if it means the menu stays current and up to date, PDF away. I know, website maintenance is a pain. Really, trust me, I know.
Whew.
Rant. Over.
All of the items on “the bore” list need to end up like this pig.
