Tales of customer service

Wenge and I went to Frederick's on Friday night.  Hidden down Camden Passage in Islington, it's a conservatory-like room, and features the kind of service that makes you feel special but not suffocated.

After a tartiflette starter I went for a cote de boeuf, a ribeye on the bone that should have been bursting with flavour.  It was OK but not as good as I'd have expected, so I ended up leaving quite a lot of it on the plate.  When the waiter came to take our plates away he asked if there was anything wrong, and I explained that I was disappointed in it.

No sooner had he taken the plate away than one of the management came to send the chef's apologies and to tell me that they wouldn't change me for it.  The desserts, when they arrived, were exceptional as was the gigondas that the sommelier had recommended to go with our meal.  So we'll definitely go back.

Contrast this with Ministry of Sound's favourite caff, Terry's.  I took Brian there on Thursday as he'd never been but had heard all about it.  As we walked in, licking our lips in expectation of eggs, bacon, cumberland sausages, chips, beans, mushrooms and the rest, we were met by the boss who casually informed us that he wouldn't be serving fryups today.  I thought that maybe there was a problem in the kitchen but no, the reason Terry's weren't serving fryups was that they had too many dinners and wanted to use them up.

A restaurant that won't serve what's on its menu?  Ridiculous.  But we'll also be going back to Terry's, no question...