Sweet and Sour in Boston

I can’t remember the last time I actually had to wait to be seated at a restaurant. Nowadays JP and I are so open-table savvy we just make reservations and then head out at our designated time. Also, we rarely eat at chain restaurants, or chain-like restaurant in this case. I’m suddenly remembering why this is such a rare occasion. I think JP mentioned this in an earlier blog, but when we first started dating I used to LOVE Olive Garden. My friends and I would travel far and wide for their amazing, never-ending breadsticks and the reasonably priced “authentic Italian food” (they learned from real chefs in Italy!!). I’d never had Italian food so yummy. I, of course, was wrong. Very, very wrong. I’ve since changed my opinion about my formerly beloved O.G., along with all the other chain restaurants. Now British Beer Company, or BBC as I’ll call it from now on because I’m too lazy to type out the entire name, is not a chain restaurant. At least I don’t think it is. Which is good. Because if there is more than one of these around, I’d be worried. This is not a restaurant one wants duplicated in various areas. To put it plainly, it sucks. It’s not a good restaurant. It could be because they’re new and not used to crowds and how to properly turn over a restaurant, I’m not sure. All I know is, I would never eat here again.
We walk in and we’re told the wait is 45 minutes. Fine. I can see that there are 40 + people waiting, so 45 minutes seems reasonable. However, about 15 minutes in (and half a beer later) I notice 2 tables open in the bar area. Wtf? Why aren’t people being seated there? JP and I converse a little longer and still, no one is sitting there. Again, wtf? I’m impatient, this I can admit. So after 15 mins of the tables being left open, I go to the hostess stand in the other room and ask if I see open tables in the bar area, if we’re allowed to sit there. She says no, but they’re working on filling them. Working how? By leaving them open for 20 minutes? You have how many people waiting you should know exactly when tables are free so you can seat people quickly. Duh. I, head back to where JP is standing, sad that the two tables remain open…for ANOTHER 5 or 10 minutes.
Right around the time when we’re trying to figure out if we should get another beer, a beer drops, I scream, JP yells, white people laugh at the funny Asian man. Maybe he’s right, maybe he should do stand-up. He’s definitely funnier than Dat Phan.
Heading over to the bar we meet random men from, what I assume, is North Carolina. They have funny accents. They actually use their “r” too. Huh. Strange. Anyway, we chat with them for a while. Trying to figure out how long they’ve been here waiting. Their answer: 3 beers. Crap! We’re only starting on beer number 2; it’s going to be a long night in the ‘burbs. Taking a look at the beer menu, JP notices they do have Boddingtons (why was that bartender such a liar?). He decides on that. I decide on the Fullers Golden Pride. Now we wait. Why, because now no bartender will take our order. Again, wtf? Finally our NC friends flag down a bartender. We order. The guy gets the Boddy for JP. I, on the other hand, have to repeat my order…2 more times. Wft? No wonder you’re a bartender at restaurant in Framingham. Nice try buddy, but maybe you should start off with something easier, perhaps “would you like fries with that?”.
We go back to our waiting area and notice that the table on the stage has been open as long as those other two tables, so going on 25 mins now. The table is clean, set up, and waiting. After a few sips of our new beers, our pager goes off. Guess where we’re sitting? Oh yes, the table that’s been open for 25 mins. This is frustrating. Why have we been waiting for 45 minutes to sit at a table that’s been open for over half the time we had to wait?
Menus are presented. Goi cuon is on the menu. $8.99. WTF? I can go to Dorchester and get 3 for $3 and they probably taste better. Other than that, everything else is quite reasonably priced. JP gets the fish and chips and I order the shredded pork “poggwhich”. It’s called a “poggwhich” because “pogg” means HUGE in British slang. Our food comes. “Pogg” does not mean huge, it means average. My fries are cold. JP’s “panko-crusted” green beans are cold too. And kind of nasty. My sandwich is okay. The pork isn’t really shredded and I can hardly taste the gouda. I wonder if it’s my fault. Did I order wrong? I ordered American BBQ not something British. Would I have been better off with bangers and mash? Wait. This isn’t my fault. It’s their fault. Why should I place blame on myself? They put it on the menu, they should be able to cook it well. If you suck at making it, take it off the menu. Oh and the claim that your pickles are "the best on this side of the pond" is a complete lie. They're gross.








I think I’ve figured out why the wait is so long. They make sure you’ve had a couple beers so the buzz you have makes the food taste better. Guess what, it doesn’t.

I give BBC 2 out of 5, and that’s only because when the old people tried to take open seats, the staff made them wait like everyone else. And the crowd. The suburbs people were pretty funny.

Side note: that girl’s dress was WAY too short. I should never have to know that you prefer to have a lightening bolt. Gross.

Last week I complained about these freaking dudes from the suburbs coming into my town and trying to ruin my night. Well, I figured it's time for some revenge. How would these people like it if I came into their town and made a ruckus at their restaurants? (In actuality, we spent the day trying to find clothes for a wedding at the Natick Collection, then went along route 9 in Framingham to the Wal-Mart for some Totino's pizza, and then to Natural Sound to listen to some home theater systems. I've decided I'm going to save up some money to equip the condo with the B&W 686 series of speakers.)

So it was 6pm and we were just about to head back to Boston. Last time we were in the area, we noticed the British Beer Company being built with a sign saying they are opening soon. We were kinda hungry and thirsty, so we thought, "Hey, a brewery, lets grab a nice micro-brew and have a snack." As we drove into the parking lot, it was bad news immediately. Why they hell were there 20 people waiting outside? Why the hell was there no parking space available anywhere? This is the god damn suburbs at 6 freaking PM!!! The only people who should be eating here are geriatrics and Boston-folks who came out of the city to do shopping. As we finally parked and walked in, past the people waiting outside, the inside waiting area was twice as bad. This did not look good...maybe the bar will have a spot. Abby went to go check it out while I waited in line to add our name to the list. Just as Abby came back shaking her head, I was putting our name down and was told it'll be a 45 minute wait...45 freaking minutes? In Framingham? I felt like I was in Bizarro world. Oh well...we can easily kill 45 minutes having a few beers, so we walked into the extremely large bar area and tried to find a spot to stand and get a beer.

I was disappointed to find out that this place was not a brewery at all. Oh, well, I'll just have myself a Boddingtons. Wrong again JP. The bartender said that they didn't have any, so I went with the Tetleys...and that was out, so the Monty Python Holy Grail was my next choice. We paid for our beers and then went to a large open area in front of the stage. (Oh yes, there's a stage here...apparently live music acts will come play out here to play. I believe it goes: garage => high school party => British Beer Company => Boston Garden.)

So now we had time to wait and people watch. (The pager they gave us also had various forms of tetris on it that you could play...clearly we were in a classy place.) Well, the crowd was as diverse as any restaurant could be: there were the old, who were grumpy and angry that they weren't seated first and that there was no early bird special, there were the families, who were showing their kids what a fine dining experience really was, and there were the younger crowd, clearly dressed up for a night in Boston after their wonderful meal at the BBC. As we were talking amongst ourselves, this girl apparently walks by in a slinky dress that is way too short. At least that's what Abby says. I couldn't see this girl because her larger, uglier friend was blocking my view. I guess Abby was right, because a group of people next to us started making comments about how short her dress was and why was she dressed that way, this is Framingham, not Boston. Now I had to see what this young lady was wearing, to judge for myself if it was too short. The circled the bar, and finally was in my view...and I gotta say, I don't think it was short at all. In fact, if anything, it wasn't short enough. I mean, this young lady clearly had a different opinion about herself that what the truth actually is, but as my mom used to say, "Go ho or don't go at all." (My mom never really said that, in fact she rarely speaks English, and when she does her main phrase is "No money, no honey." But I'm sure if she would have saw this girl, she would have made some sort of snide comment...gotta love mom for being mean.)

As we were waiting, there were not one, but two tables (high tops as those in the industry call them) empty as can be. Every time people sat in them, they were promptly told to get up and put their names in at the front. An old, grumpy (and fat) couple decided they had enough and sat down. A waitress came over and asked them if they were seated here, and they flat out lied and said they did. Well, the hostess was brought over, and she clearly did not sit this couple and they were told to get up and put their name into the list. Now, there wasn't much to like about the service tonight, but that was very nice to see. This group definitely didn't understand how to work turnover, but boy could they stop an old couple from getting their way.

Now we were 30 or so minutes into our wait, and something exciting happens. No, the pager does not start beeping indicating we have a table, but the group next to us drops a pint glass shattering it on the ground and getting Abby's back a little wet. Talk about excitement! This must be what they do in the suburbs when there's an awkward pause in the conversation. The group apologizes profusely, we say it's no problem at all, and I decide to use this opportunity to voice my displeasure about waiting so long for what will surely be crappy food. "And we'll keep throwing glasses on the ground until we are seated!" I scream out loud. That really got the suburbanites laughing...I should see if I could book the BBC for a stand up routine.

Anyway, this is a review of the food, not the people. After we ordered another beer (this time I did get a Boddingtons...that young blonde waitress should really know what beers they stock) our beeper goes off and we get seated at a 4-top that's on the stage that has been empty for over 20 minutes. We sit down, order some water, and look over the menu. What the hell is "Vietnamese Fresh Rolls" doing on a British menu? (Why it's priced at $7.95 is an entirely other question.) There were other Asian-inspired dishes on this menu as well...clearly, British food is not what I thought it was. I asked the waitress what's the deal with all the Asian-styled dishes, and apparently the chef is some sort of Ming Tsai wannabe and he made a menu that is England meets Southeast Asia. Interesting, I think I'll stick with the British side of the menu. After debating between the bangers and mash or the fish and chips, I decided on the latter. It comes with french fries, onion rings, and cole slaw, but I switched out the cole slaw for "panko crusted green beans" which caught my eye. Abby got the Pork PoggWich, which sounded really funny.




We got our food, and I was in fried-goodness heaven...no wait, heaven is too happy of a place...I was in fried-goodness purgatory. Not truly bad, nor truly good, but right in the middle searching for a way to be better. The fish was cook well, and had decent flavor, especially when I scooped the tarter sauce onto it. The fries were fries, nothing more, same for the onion rings. The panko crusted green beans weren't bad, but tasted more like onion rings. Also, on inspection, the green beans seem to not be panko crusted at all, but just battered in the same onion ring batter.

All in all, the prices were what you'd expect from a place that is more like Chili's or Appleby's than a microbrewery which we thought it was. It's a place worth going to once...just once. I give it a 2 1/2 out of 5.