Sunday, September 20, 2009

Village Whiskey: Dear Jose

Dear Jose,

We need to talk. I never thought it would come to this, but it has. I wish I could say "it's not you it's me." But this time, it really is you.

Friday night I went to your new restaurant, Village Whiskey, and for the first time, something was missing. It just didn't feel the same. I think you've changed, or maybe we've grown apart. I know long distance is hard, but, really, I promised I'd visit.

I don't know what happened. I supported you from the beginning, I told everyone how much I love you, I congratulated you on your successes, and you gave me the best going away dinner a girl could ask for. So I just don't know how this could happen so suddenly. I feel like I don't know you anymore.

After waiting an hour and 15 minutes, a half an hour over my quoted wait time, I finally got a chance to sit down at your new "classic American bar." I was so excited to see you, I'd been eagerly awaiting this place for months.

I'd heard about this crazy "Whiskey King" burger you have: 10 oz, maple bourbon glazed cippolini, Rogue bleu cheese, applewood smoked bacon and, my favorite, foie gras. Yes, $24 for a burger is a little on the insane side, but hey, maybe so am I.

Well, this is where things get tough for me. I wanted to love this burger with all of my heart. But, alas, I could not. After three bites, the burger meat itself fell apart in my hands and the bottom bun was so incredibly soaked through with fat that it basically disintegrated. I was left with a mess of ingredients and small pieces of ground beef all over my plate. In anger I picked up my knife and fork and tried to tough it out. Beyond the fact that all of the components meld together, with the nicely seared foie especially getting lost, there just wasn't much left to love. It was a mess.

Maybe it's my own fault. Maybe I have no business ordering a $24 burger. But, I did it because I trusted you.

Unfortunately, I wasn't in love with your duck fat fries either. They were over-seasoned to the point of masking the glorious duck-fatness. And this wasn't the only problem I had with seasoning. The Kentucky Fried Quail was also over-seasoned (yes I like Old Bay, but I only like it to be the dominant flavor on Maryland crabs), and under-salted. And then, to further confuse me, your soft pretzel app, was overwhelmed by large grains of salt, and actually fell more into the "bread" category, than the "soft pretzel" category.

There were a few good points. The service, from the hostess to the two servers, was incredibly friendly and attentive. The cocktails were also very good. My "Ginger Rogers," gin, ginger, lemon, Fees rhubarb and sparking rose satisfied every girly drink desire within me. And your deviled eggs were the most perfect deviled eggs I've ever had.

But still, I left dissatisfied. Maybe we've both changed too much. But I can't just walk away from this relationship. We've been together too long. I'm willing to give you another chance; just promise me, Jose, that you'll never let me down like this again.

Femme Fermental

Village Whiskey
118 S. 20th St.
Philadelphia, PA 19103


Gaetano said...

Wow, you're sexy Femme! Love to hear it spit out so straight. Here in Philly juvvy circle jerks and clucking hen house gossip predominates.

Seriously, how can about an overpriced played out cliche not be a cheezy contrivance.

Garces::Six Flags

Femme Fermental said...

Hey thanks!

I just had to lay it out this time, good or bad.

I'm very in love with your Starr/Garces analogy.