Ho Ho Harvester
You know those Fawlty Towers experiences you occasionally experience in hotels and restaurants? Well we had one last night at Harvester…
It didn’t start particularly well when our party of seven was shown to a table for six. Realising her mistake, the waitress put another chair at the head of the table. This would have been fine, apart from the presence of the main staircase the other chair was now blocking. Somebody with more mathematical ability came to her aid, moving us to a different table and creating a table for nine. Well, close enough.
Next came our proper waiter for the evening. Let’s call him Manuel. Not because that was his name - I have no idea what it was - but it fits in quite nicely with the Fawlty Towers comparison.
Manuel was obviously new, but hyper enthusiastic. There was a choice of sauces so I asked Manuel what was in each of them. A second later, Manuel was no more. He’d run off. Looking around, we saw him over by the kitchen. Ah! He’d gone to find out the contents of the sauces.
Our disappearing waiter returned with news: He’d obviously been a bit confused by chef, but we uncovered something about mushrooms and spices.
Down the table he went collecting everybody’s orders managing to avoid the urge to run off again. Aside from regular “hold on”s as he struggled with his notepad, he had to be shown the menu frequently as he had no idea of the names of the dishes.
That was the last comedic contact for a while. Over half an hour in fact. 30 minutes before any sign of starters. Thank goodness for the salad cart full of waterlogged delights and dodgy pasta.
Main courses followed quickly after the starters. Maybe a bit too quick. Manuel came along with the plates only to realise there was no space on the table: He’d forgotten to clear away the salad bowls and starters first. Like the kind folk we are, we gave him a hand. We piled all the dishes up at the end of the table so he could take them away. And that he did. Well, most of them. There were a few token bowls left for our amusement.
The food itself varied from rather too well done steak to soggy chips, via chewy onion rings and sauce from a packet. I’d guess most of the meal had come straight out of the freezer.
More fun came getting desserts, extra drinks and the bill. By this time, Manuel was dashing about all over the place serving the three or four tables he was responsible for. If Gordon Ramsey had been there, the whole lot of staff would have been in for a bollocking.
Did I mention desserts? Anything involving strawberries was off. Fine, not too big a deal. Oh, and anything with cream. What kind of restaurant runs out of cream?!
You usually get what you pay for. Harvester is cheap and cheerful, but still overpriced for what it delivered, unless of course you’re supposed to pay for the entertainment. I’ve had far superior service at Pizza Hut.
Not an entirely wasted evening - watching Manuel was hilarious, but not an experience at a professionally run restaurant either. Based on last night, Harvester Restaurants: Avoid! Avoid!
I wanted to go to Harts Boatyard.
