Recently, my culinary journey took an unexpected turn in the vibrant San Diego Food scene, leading me to an encounter with the most candid individual I’ve ever met within a restaurant setting. This person, whose identity shall remain confidential for their own protection, offered a perspective so unfiltered, it was both shocking and strangely refreshing.
The setting was a relatively new establishment, aiming to make its mark on the competitive San Diego food landscape. However, on this particular evening, the dining room was sparsely populated. As we settled in, the aforementioned honest man approached our table with a piece of advice that immediately set the tone for the evening. “If you’re considering cocktails,” he began, “I’d recommend ordering them promptly. They tend to take a considerable amount of time.”
We appreciated the heads-up and placed our drink order. True to his word, the cocktails were indeed a slow affair, despite the seemingly light workload of the bartender. While the wait was noticeable, the anticipation grew as we perused the menu, each dish description painting a picture of culinary delight, enhancing our eagerness to sample the San Diego food on offer.
When he returned with our meticulously crafted and undeniably delicious cocktails, it was time to delve into the food selections. Inquiring about his personal recommendations, I asked about the standout dishes, the culinary creations that defined this new beacon in the San Diego food scene. He paused, seemingly lost in contemplation, before delivering an answer of stunning honesty. “Well,” he stated, “where I come from,” – he named a country I’ll keep private to protect him – “our food actually has flavor.”
He left the unspoken conclusion hanging in the air, yet it was palpable: if robust flavors were what we were seeking in our San Diego food experience, perhaps this establishment wasn’t the most direct route to culinary satisfaction.
This man’s unvarnished honesty was disarming. In a world of manufactured enthusiasm, his candor was a stark contrast. It highlighted the inherent tension in the restaurant industry, where employees are expected to be ambassadors of flavor, even when personal opinions might diverge.
As someone involved in the food industry myself, I felt a pang of empathy for the restaurant owner, the person who poured heart and soul into creating a dining experience, only to have an employee inadvertently suggest it might lack a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’. It’s akin to receiving a one-star review from your own staff.
Yet, on the other hand, there was a sense of gratitude. This honest assessment, delivered with no malice, potentially saved us from a disappointing and expensive meal. This individual, in his own unique way, contributed to our understanding of the San Diego food scene, not through promotion, but through unfiltered truth.
I’ve pondered this encounter in the weeks since, imagining this paragon of honesty greeting future patrons: “Regarding the fries? The best thing is, they’re usually served warm.” His unwavering commitment to truth, in the realm of San Diego food, is a story worth savoring.
