A bad dinner affects humans differently than a bad movie or a bad day at work. We feel the same outrage that might be inspired by a factory poisoning the air, or the realization that last night’s hookup isn’t going to call: we took something in, into our very bodies, and trusted it and made it part of ourselves. There’s a deep feeling of betrayal and hurt to go along with the disappointment; we needed the comfort and sustenance of a good meal and now we won’t have another chance until tomorrow. Perhaps eating is just too basic to the human condition to risk messing up.
Are you listening to me, you people at Montsouris? I wrote a note to all my writers yesterday about how we should try to approach every restaurant positively. You’re making me look bad!
Taking over for Johnny’s Half Shell in Dupont, Montsouris comes to us from the owners of the very pleasant Montmartre over in Capitol Hill. With two solid restaurants as forbears, how is it things could have gone so wrong? While the few tables at the front of the restaurant look rather nice, most of the clientele is crammed into a bizarre row of cheap, diner-style seats facing the kitchen. It’s knee-to-knee and elbow-to-wine glass as diners struggle not to eavesdrop on each other, and there’s the collective feeling of confused faux pas. What could be wrong with my hair today? Perhaps I should have worn my pearls? Why oh why have we alone been consigned to this nasty and impersonal galley, when such lovely tables are visible off in the distance?
Now, in the eighties it was considered a mark of distinction have your French server hate you. Their prime purpose was to aggressively lounge near the kitchen, arms crossed and eyes glaring, cursing under their very French breath. But today that form of bizarre sadism lives on only in the very low-confidence, or the very out-of-business. I’m not sure which category Montsouris falls into yet, but I can say this: each sneer, each forgotten wine order, each ignored attempt to flag down fork, water glass, or menu, are small bruises to my soul. It wasn’t that big to begin with, and now it’s black and blue. Thank you very much.
And now I could spend a page writing about the food, but you know it’s going to be bad. Should I even bother? Assume that a good meal would have vindicated everything else, and draw your conclusions from there. The appetizers were by turns boring or inedible, the steaks grainy and cold.
I emerged from Montsouris a beaten woman; practically in tears, and with that odd combination of hunger, nausea, and leaden depression that only the a truly bad dining experience can provide. And so it was that, a few minutes later and with my stomach still churning over the catastrophe across the street, I crept into the bar at Urbana and ordered two appetizers, a glass of wine and a desert. They were lovely.
Montsouris
2002 P St. NW,
Washington, DC
20036
202-833-4180
-
22Dec
6 Responses
Oh, that’s so unfortunate! I so want to like this place. I haven’t been yet, but I’ll think twice about looking forward to it after reading about your experience.
Well, there are a lot of positive reviews online…could it be I was just there on an off night? If so, dont care. Not ever going back, journalistic integrity be damned. 🙂
Sometimes…you just can’t go back. 🙂
after reading this review, i just want to know who give you the power to break down a restaurant business ? have you ever run a business ? did you know all the difficulties and problems involve, before everthinks runing well , i went there for lunch and dinner and alot of my friends and perhaps other post readers , food critics and restaurant owner agree with me that the quality was maybe perfectable but higher than the average. thanks to thinks about people who believe in there own business and work so much to realise ther dream.
Whow there clo and piero, I’m glad you liked them! I sincerely hope they get things right; we could use another good french place in the dupont area.
On the other hand, capitalism only works when consumers have complete research about their options. I’ve never run a business, but on the other hand, this wasn’t a review of their business plan.
On a different subject, why is this always the defense against a bad dining experience: it’s so much work to open a restaurant that we shouldn’t complain if we disliked it? What are you, defending your kid’s performance in the kindergarten musical? I mean, if you really feel the need to change the mind of a minor blogger, give me some suggestions on how I could experience it in its best light. C’mon people, put some effort into your complaints.
Funny. Are you a shill for Urbana? Not to put too fine a point on it, but I thought Urbana stank. The pasta dish I had there tasted like something you’d whip up out of the fridge — ingredients were un-integrated and the dish was greasy. Salad had wilted, brown leaves in it. Service was sonorous and over-elaborate. The bill was high. And the basement room feels very corporate. A very DC experience aimed at people who don’t know much about food.
Montsouris has a more interesting menu than most French places in DC and I have always been happy eating there multiple times. True, the interior is uninspired and utiliarian, but it lacks pretension. I can’t help but feel that his overly reactive, melodramatic review of Montsouris has some sort of agenda behind it.