Mie N Yu

7pm, Friday night, Georgetown, hungry: passed by good looking Italian restaurant, earmarked the Vietnamese for next time, and then were caught in what can only be described as a scam... the shame is, we fell for it: the allure of a 'reservations only' experience, the exotic-looking entrance, and our own inability to settle on a gastronomic region all lured us to Mie N Yu- what a HUGE MISTAKE! Quite clearly, the restaurant itself can't make up it's own mind as to what to serve- a little Oriental, a touch of Asian, or Mediterranean, or was the banana-hummus designed to attract everyone from Latin to Indian to Arab? In the end it could only attract my growing suspicion that this place was indeed a sham- the kind of place that only needs your money once to realise a profit- no need to cultivate return guests (they won't come), just charge more than the bottle per glass of wine, $10 an appetizer, and the utilities/wages to customer spending ratio will always work in your favor... the naan was store-bought, the plantain chips indeed flash-fried, but somewhere in Escondido, California, and the hummus itself, well… left uneaten in the bowl; next up, the vegetarian collection- two of the minutest skewers of vegetables I’ve ever seen, egg-rolls from frozen (think I passed up on the same ones in Shoppers the other day), and a red-rice mixture as bland as the overly-enthusiastic server was not- his loud remark in support of our choice of wild mushroom ragout as an accompaniment sealed the deal- he either hadn’t eaten it himself or had been coached into perpetuating the myth that the chef was not mingling with diners but actually in the kitchen and was creating our repast from scratch (in fact as the waiters all wore black, his white, and obviously underused apron was very noticeable); “dessert”, he asked, ignoring the fact that virtually everything served remained picked at but not eaten, “sure”, I said to my wife, now thinking of which Ben and Jerry’s flavor would somehow cleanse my already confused and now thoroughly disgusted palate, but as we got up to leave, the ransom- $75 for our coats, had to be paid in order to escape the lingering doubts about my ability to make rational decisions- if you actually paid $5/gallon for gas a few months ago, have failed to walk away from the McStarbucksing of coffee, or truly believe that chow mein is Chinese food, you should eat here.
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Safari
Saturday, February 11, 2006