If someone asked me to define in one word what best described me, I would answer that I was a cook (well, that is besides being a wife and a lover of Italy). I cook every day. It’s what I do. When I’m not in the kitchen, I’m thinking about what I will be cooking for the next meal or the one for the following day or the day after that. I keep notes of what I would like to make for our next dinner party and pour over my cookbook collection for inspiration, even when there’s no get togethers on the horizon.
As much as I love good food, we rarely eat in restaurants unless we’re on vacation. I wish I could say that we have a hard time deciding where to dine out, but our town just isn’t a center for innovative food. There’s pizza and more than your fair share of Mexican food, but nothing that incredibly special. That is until recently. For months we watched in anticipation as a new restaurant was being built. In addition to the restaurant there would be a wine shop with a bar for tasting.
Finally the restaurant opened to great reviews both from friends and reviewers. We decided to wait a bit until the restaurant settled in and before we knew it, a few months had passed, it was my birthday and it seemed like the perfect time to give it a try.
I am not a restaurant reviewer. As I said, we don’t eat out much, but I do know food and what’s good and what is not. Our meal was really pretty good. Not the best ever, but worth going back and the service was great. There is, however, an unfortunate ending to this evening. I got food poisoning. Yes, a not so great ending to an otherwise perfect birthday.
I spent two semi-miserable days and although I don’t expect anything from the restaurant, I do feel that they should know. I sent them a short and very polite email and have yet to get a reply. Should I just leave it at that and never go back? Should I wonder if someone decided not to pass my e mail on to the manager and just deleted it?