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You know the type, the ultra-picky customer whose complaints ruin dinner for everyone in the restaurant. The self-appointed lightning rods for tough steak, spilled wine, fallen soufflés, incorrect checks. Waiter, there's a fly in my drink! Miss, there's no gremolata on the osso buco! You want to find her car in the parking lot and let the air out of her tires, or send a mash note to her table: "STFUA!"
Leslie Kelly, Seattle's sorriest excuse for a restaurant writer, finally jumps the shark with the most self-absorbed, petulant, infantile item in this morning's Pee-Eye: finding a fly--nay, not even a house fly but a moustique, a fruit-fly, a gnat--next to her drink at Qube. From this single transgression, this one perceived slight to her fragile ego, she extrapolates the need for a Diners Bill of Rights and the complete downfall of Western Civilization.
Just look at the threat presented by this monster. (Link is to a high-res photo on Kelly's blog, aptly named Whining & Dining.) From her account the fly wasn't even in her drink, but had expired harmlessly. Would that barfly Kelly would do the same. Quietly. And soon.
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this article (yours, not hers) couldn't be any more spot on. this lady blows. im a food service professional as well, and i can't stand people like her. as for the diners bill of rights, why don't we just type in at the end "diners have the right to eat at the same exact type of establishment, with the same type of service, with the same type of food, with concern only for leslie kelly."
leslie kelly sounds like a needy bitch.
I enjoy reading her rants -- in the same way I enjoy watching Fox News, or reading Sony Defense Force (http://www.sonydefenseforce.com/). It's comedy, to me. I enjoy it.
I'm a regular of SFist, and I was reading about this. What a crazy woman (I'd say bitch, but I'm not at that point yet).
So what, I see a couple of fruit flies here and there, as long as it is not drowning in my soup or drink, I'm ok with that.
This pisses me off (not this article, not hers, but her blog).
I've got dreams of owning places. Restaurants, stores, bars, whatever.
And I've always dreamed of taking the "French" mentality. That place is their home, you are their guest. Be fucking respectful of someone else's home. They don't have to let you in. And for most places she'd go, they don't really need her either. Last time I checked Qube was doing just fine.
And before someone starts saying, "If you love France so much, why don't you move there (or marry it, depending on how mature they were)?" I don't speak French.