Steffens Revisited

After the commission meeting let out, I needed supper. I drove straight down Hwy 17 to Steffens. I got in the door (after the owner kindly opened the always locked [fire code, anyone?] left door so that my chair would fit through) at 7:25PM. The place was about 80% full at 7:25 PM - way better than I remember a typical Tuesday night under the previous ownership. There was a table available on either the right side or the left side. Unfortunately, my old friend and consummate professional waitress, Pat, must have been in the kitchen. Had I seen her, I would have gone to her side. Alas, I went to the left side, where I was dis serviced by a chubby little brunette who was honing up her act as an acerbic stand up comedienne. Picture a young Roseanne Barr, waitressing, and doing it in her stand-up persona. I hope the gal makes it in showbiz because she absolutely sucks as a waitress. I will say that she has done a marvelous job of training the owner, though. While the surly young twit takes more orders than she can possibly handle and engages in curt and insulting reparte' with her hapless customers, the owner is panting like a dog from running her orders out and, not having a clue who ordered what, having a helluva time getting the right food to the right customers. The chubby waitress does manage to find time to pick up her tips, though. Poor Linda Cagle is in desperate need of a friendly, tough-love visit from that TV chef, Chef Ramsay, who visits failing restaurants and diagnoses their problems. The first thing he would tell her is to quit letting twits like the chubby gal treat her like the hired help while giving her customers piss-poor service, then getting cheeky with them when they have the temerity to complain. I arrived at 7:25. At 7:28, I placed my order with young Roseanne for an un-sweetened iced tea, a hamburger with light mayo, lettuce, tomato, and a "very thin slice of red onion", and an order of extra crispy fries. About five minutes later, I caught her attention and asked her to hand me the sweetener container which I could not reach and get me a straw. The hamburger (and the straw) finally arrived at 7:50. That's about the right amount of time to cook a fresh, raw, and usually frozen hamburger patty. Mine was none of that, but more on that later. I finally located the light mayo - a microscopically thin smear (think biology lab) the size of a postage stamp. The tomato was missing completely. For the thin slice of red onion, the cook had apparently savagely attacked a whole onion with a cleaver, then piled ping-pong ball sized chunks atop my meat patty. I called Roseanne back to my table and told her that I wanted the missing tomato and to please have the cook remove the "chunks of onion detritus" from my burger and replace it with the "thin slice" I had asked for. Well, even with the swinging doors to the kitchen fully closed, I could hear Roseanne loudly regaling the cooks with her mocking impersonation of me asking to have the burger fixed the way I wanted it. Ten minutes go by - no burger. Finally, out it comes. The "thin slice" was about 3/4 of an inch thick at its narrow side and 1.5 inchs high on the high side. I called Roseanne back and asked her if the thick onion ring I was holding in my hand was her idea of a joke. She, responded "NO, but the cooks thought it was funny!", then flounced off. So, when I went to the register, the poor bedraggled owner had high hopes of just taking my money and was not about to ask me how was everything. I had the huge red onion ring folded in a napkin. I revealed it to her and told her the story of my experience tonight. She immediately assured me that the cooks would not do that to me on purpose. I felt right sorry for her when I told her that in point of fact, I knew that they did because Roseanne had told me they did. She was speechless. Folks, this lady, with apparently no prior restaurant experience, is trying damned hard. It's a damned crying shame that a few ungrateful , no-count redneck employees are bringing her down ( to be accurate, the two cooks were black females - saw them at the back door.) I was about to withdraw my recommendation that you try it, but instead, how about going and telling her what, if anything, goes wrong with your experience. And for Gawd's sake, someone tell her to read my blog. It was obvious tonight that she has not. She's got to take back control and replace the few dirt bags who are killing her. Oh, yes - almost forgot. The sad little three ounce burger patty had obvioulsy been precooked, kept in a pot of warm water on the stove (cardinal clue - not a speck of grease on the burger or bun), then thrown back on the grill for a second, if you are lucky. My burger patty was absolutely at room temperature by the time I got to eat it. P.S., the new, Steffens-like restaurant going into the currently being remodeled former location of St. Marys Seafood and Steak has a target opening date of March 1. The new name will be "The Mill."