Sure, Go to Mbar to Party—But Don't Go There to Eat


Anchovie and tarragon together? It may have been a blessing you couldn't taste the flavors in that salad ... the oily fishiness of the anchovy and the licorice-esque tarragon sounds like a terrible combination.
Nicely done, have many of the same opinions. Got a little harsh toward the end, I think. but otherwise, well-played.
I think we all know this wasn't about the food. For the best, though, because such a bitter tongue won't taste things correctly anyway.
More of a hate-fuck than a traditional restaurant review. Could be an idea for a new column, just needs a good name. Shouldn't be hard to find other venues to write similar pieces about.
Here's a review that fits every expensive non vegan restaurant in Seattle: WHAT A LOUSY JOINT!
Snore. Seattle's version of a Eurotrash joint.
Are you being fair to the servers? You never really said what they did to get the "scattered" tag.

Ya know, sounds to me like you were a bit scattered to show up to a busy place with double the party size you told them, and they did fine by you. It's not like they can pull a four-top out of their ass, you can pack around the table you asked for or you can wait for another.
Overall a good review, but your constant snarky references to the (more well-heeled than you?) clientele smacks seriously of class envy. Maybe if you had learned to code or got a business degree you could afford to nosh at places like Mbar on your own dime, rather than dine on your meager Stranger expense account and gaze at the world through rather green-tinted lenses.
@7 I'd rather wait longer for a real table. Was so happy hangin out on the Bar Harbor patio I low key considered just reviewing them instead.

@8 My guy, I paid for most of this on my own dime. I don't pan a place without getting a significant cross-section of the menu, and if our budget don't cover it, I cover it myself. As a freelance writer, I am a one man business, and I hustle my ass off. It ain't class envy, it's me wanting people who are also spending their hard earned dough—and I work hard as fuck for mine—to get their money's worth. There's nothing wrong with a fancy, expensive meal, it just has to deliver.