Armed with the knowledge that I needed to order more food than I thought I would, I returned to Bar Bambino last night. A cutting board of house-cured meats, a truffled egg crostini, and some gnocchi with peas and ham and cream sauce later and I was just right. Not too full, mind you, even with the heavy cream and plenty of cheese, but just right. And isn’t that what we all want? How many times hvae I complained about being stuffed and ensickened by restaurant meals? (Well, not here so much, but I do it in person a lot.) So I’ve found a place where the food is delicious and I can order away and end the evening without threatening the structural integrity of my waistband – I shouldn’t complain. And I won’t.
I will say this: the staff there should learn to explain menu changes a bit differently. On the menu is a fennel salad with cara cara oranges and EVOO and whatnot. Our server pointed out that “we’ve changed the fennel salad, it’s now tuna and white beans.”
Um, what? I get that you are no longer offering a fennel salad and that you now are offering a tuna salad. That’s cool. But you didn’t “change the fennel salad.” It’s not so much a complaint, though, because it cracked me up all night long. Plus, the tuna salad – ordered by my dining companion – was delic.
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