Rose Pistola: attitude ruined good food

I recently went to Rose Pistola in a family party of four which included three Italian-Americans, two obviously eligible for membership in the AARP.

What a strange experience! The food was great--it "sang," as the reviews sometimes say. I'd rate it highly. But the service was so unpleasant that it ruined the experience. I'm normally not that sensitive to "attitude"--if it's not too bad I figure it's theater. But this time it left me fuming.

First, the waitress was so sales-oriented that she couldn't stop telling us what to order. In fact, she advised us (without being asked) exactly what to order, including, of course, lots of food from every category on the menu--much more than people within a normal weight range could eat at one meal without exploding. As she said "I'd do a few  appetizers, a couple of salads... then I'd do an order for two of the special and a vegetarian entree and a meat." Aside from the grammatical problem of "doing" food, which offends me as a writer, as my mother-in-law commented, "We are old enough to know how to order!" Later we asked the waitress a question about a dish on the menu, and she again repeated "Again, I'd suggest getting the special..." until I snapped, "We weren't asking about that!" Hey lady, we don't want the special--lay off!

We ordered two appetizers for four of us. The waitress let us know that the appetizers were really small, just a tiny taste, and that might not be enough. Actually, they were fine and plenty large enough to share.

Then she corrected my father-in-law's pronunciation of "gnocchi" which he pronounces in the South Philly Italo-American way. I guess since she grew up in Santa Monica or Walnut Creek she felt qualified to disrespect and correct a white-haired man's colloquial prononciation of his forefathers' tongue. He was eating gnocchi before she was born, but she probably just thought he wasn't cool enough to know this foreign word!

Then there was the rapid bussing service... so rapid that you felt you could barely catch your breath. Sometimes you'd put down your knife and fork and it felt like someone was hovering in the wings to wisk them away, to keep things moving quickly. The atmosphere was more like an assembly line than a nice dinner, although we certainly spent a decent amount. The service was "professional" in terms of getting you in and out, not in terms of making you feel welcome.

When we left, we were so torn. The food had been terrific--really special.  But we felt uncomfortable, kind of "taken," kind of put down. In the real Italy, we always order exactly what we want and I don't remember waiters ever pushing us to order more or acting nasty about it. All I could think about was the rating I was going to give in my Zagat poll review--24 for food, 5 for service. Not a typical differential.

I don't know whether I would ever go back there again. The flavors are great and the food cooked to perfection, but as a human being, why would I want to experience that treatment? What a strange place. And since LuLu was also a high-attitude place under Reed Heron, I wonder whether he intentionally encourages that kind of shop. I went back to LuLu awhile ago, since Heron left, and I actually had a friendly, nice waiter. Shocking.

Comments?

nina