The ill-fated reprise of the Gotham Tavern
We had heard the rumors on the blogs: there was movement inside Gotham Tavern. Someone had moved in, intending to open up the place again. We followed the news until we found a post that confirmed it. Gotham was re-opening with a new owner, but under the same name. September 1st. We were there.
Turns out, we were wrong. They’ve already been open three weeks. A soft opening, according to what could only serve as a disclaimer on their menu. The grand opening is slated to happen later in the month. In the meantime they’re “working on and expanding [their] menu daily.” Caveats acknowledged, we dove in.
Right now, yes the menu is limited. Really limited. And the drink list, well, that’s non-existent. There’s a full bar, two or three crap beers and a couple of good ones (Pelican Pale Ale, of which noneifbysea got a pint), and a spotty wine selection. Again, no list to refer to, so I had to go with the server’s suggestion. A received a full glass of too-warm, indistinct Pinot Noir. It wasn’t encouraging. There’s a lot of room for improvement here.
Noneifbysea started with the Citrus Salad, a sad mélange of bagged mixed greens, mandarin oranges segments fresh from the can, candied almonds and baffling honey chili vinaigrette. It was a strange showing, and quickly clued us in that, well, we weren’t in Gotham anymore. At least not the Gotham we once knew and loved. It all just screamed “Sysco.” I decided to brave the soup special, or “soup of the moment” according to the menu. Clearly I chose the wrong moment, since I ended up with a cream of mustard greens garnished with lemon crème fraiche. It tastes just as bad as it sounds. Even if they had used fresh ingredients, which I highly doubt, the flavors were just attacking each other, my palate being collateral damage.
Since I had entered into the first course with such bravery, I decided to hedge my bets and go simple with the main. Something safe, like the Rosemary and Garlic marinated chicken skewers. This, sadly seemed like my best bet. I received three pasty-white chicken pieces with tired flecks of herbs. They tasted even worse than some of the worst food I made when I was still teaching myself how to cook in college. Bland and cold, and bordering on underdone. Just awful. Served with thick slices of chalky-white beefsteak tomatoes and mozzarella, drizzled with an inexplicable red wine and balsamic reduction. As noneifbysea astutely observed, “why, in the height of tomato season, would you put these on a plate?” After a skewer and a half, I couldn’t eat anymore.
Noneifbysea went with the Gotham Burger, which, according to our server, the chef “puts a lot of love into.” Hm. NIBS asked the server if the beef was local or organic or anything special, and after checking with the kitchen, he revealed that, no, it’s just regular beef. Well, the regular beef came out on a regular sesame seed bun with three limp little pieces of bacon huddling on top. It was juicy, there was that, but the only flavor was coming from the herb aioli slathered on the bun. It wasn’t terrible, but this wasn’t a burger in the running for Portland’s best. It’s the kind of thing you might pay $5 for at a bar. A dive bar.
We were kind of relieved to know that they didn’t have any desserts to choose from. I don’t know if we could have stomached another course. In fact, before the check came, we started making plans as to where we were going to eat after we left.
While we were there, in the space that looked exactly the same as it once did, except for a new mural and cheap folding chairs pushed into the tables, we kept feeling one thing over and over. Sad. Sad that they were serving such horrible food where once it had been so good. It’s the same feeling you get when you drive past your childhood home, and they’ve planted new things that don’t fit or a novelty mailbox that has no business standing in front of your house. It wasn’t right.
We really wonder what kind of place this is going to shape up to be, or what kind of sweeping changes they could make in the next month to make it even a little better. The place looks exactly the same inside, but the food is so different. It’s bar food. Bad bar food in a really, really pretty setting. The food was so bad that it seems almost unfair to compare to the old Gotham. But when someone moves in, leaves the name and all the interior design intact, down to the throw pillows in the booths, it more than invites comparison, it begs it. Sadly, food-wise, there is nothing the same. Gotham, as it stands now, is truly an empty shell of what it once was.
Turns out, we were wrong. They’ve already been open three weeks. A soft opening, according to what could only serve as a disclaimer on their menu. The grand opening is slated to happen later in the month. In the meantime they’re “working on and expanding [their] menu daily.” Caveats acknowledged, we dove in.Right now, yes the menu is limited. Really limited. And the drink list, well, that’s non-existent. There’s a full bar, two or three crap beers and a couple of good ones (Pelican Pale Ale, of which noneifbysea got a pint), and a spotty wine selection. Again, no list to refer to, so I had to go with the server’s suggestion. A received a full glass of too-warm, indistinct Pinot Noir. It wasn’t encouraging. There’s a lot of room for improvement here.
Noneifbysea started with the Citrus Salad, a sad mélange of bagged mixed greens, mandarin oranges segments fresh from the can, candied almonds and baffling honey chili vinaigrette. It was a strange showing, and quickly clued us in that, well, we weren’t in Gotham anymore. At least not the Gotham we once knew and loved. It all just screamed “Sysco.” I decided to brave the soup special, or “soup of the moment” according to the menu. Clearly I chose the wrong moment, since I ended up with a cream of mustard greens garnished with lemon crème fraiche. It tastes just as bad as it sounds. Even if they had used fresh ingredients, which I highly doubt, the flavors were just attacking each other, my palate being collateral damage.
Since I had entered into the first course with such bravery, I decided to hedge my bets and go simple with the main. Something safe, like the Rosemary and Garlic marinated chicken skewers. This, sadly seemed like my best bet. I received three pasty-white chicken pieces with tired flecks of herbs. They tasted even worse than some of the worst food I made when I was still teaching myself how to cook in college. Bland and cold, and bordering on underdone. Just awful. Served with thick slices of chalky-white beefsteak tomatoes and mozzarella, drizzled with an inexplicable red wine and balsamic reduction. As noneifbysea astutely observed, “why, in the height of tomato season, would you put these on a plate?” After a skewer and a half, I couldn’t eat anymore.
Noneifbysea went with the Gotham Burger, which, according to our server, the chef “puts a lot of love into.” Hm. NIBS asked the server if the beef was local or organic or anything special, and after checking with the kitchen, he revealed that, no, it’s just regular beef. Well, the regular beef came out on a regular sesame seed bun with three limp little pieces of bacon huddling on top. It was juicy, there was that, but the only flavor was coming from the herb aioli slathered on the bun. It wasn’t terrible, but this wasn’t a burger in the running for Portland’s best. It’s the kind of thing you might pay $5 for at a bar. A dive bar.
We were kind of relieved to know that they didn’t have any desserts to choose from. I don’t know if we could have stomached another course. In fact, before the check came, we started making plans as to where we were going to eat after we left.
While we were there, in the space that looked exactly the same as it once did, except for a new mural and cheap folding chairs pushed into the tables, we kept feeling one thing over and over. Sad. Sad that they were serving such horrible food where once it had been so good. It’s the same feeling you get when you drive past your childhood home, and they’ve planted new things that don’t fit or a novelty mailbox that has no business standing in front of your house. It wasn’t right.
We really wonder what kind of place this is going to shape up to be, or what kind of sweeping changes they could make in the next month to make it even a little better. The place looks exactly the same inside, but the food is so different. It’s bar food. Bad bar food in a really, really pretty setting. The food was so bad that it seems almost unfair to compare to the old Gotham. But when someone moves in, leaves the name and all the interior design intact, down to the throw pillows in the booths, it more than invites comparison, it begs it. Sadly, food-wise, there is nothing the same. Gotham, as it stands now, is truly an empty shell of what it once was.
- food: bad ingredients means bad food. a shame.
- drink: too early to say. early signs, not great.
- atmosphere: there's none yet. no one knows it's open. looks like the old gotham.
- strikes: food. drinks. atmosphere.
- tally: too bad points aren't given for bravery. A mark on the negative side for Noneifbysea.
posted by canolive at 7:29 PM
1 Comments:
Seem from looking around online reviews, my nightmare is all too common adding another strike for poor service. I think I had the same coupon as the following quoted couple for $35 meal ($25 off)......."My husband and I kept looking at the statement puzzled again by the final calculations. The owner saw our frustration and had our waitress approach us. "Oh...by the way", she said, the tip is already included"
Only difference with my story is we did dispute it, 18% seemed a bit steep for the service. After all we had waited 30 min to get our appetizers and first drinks, then 20 min later were told we needed to wait to make our dinner order because the cook was getting too busy, and then waited about 40 min to get or bill. All the while with an empty water glass.
The response I got was what shocked me. I was told if I didn’t like it I could just never come back. When I mentioned that would be good advice that I would be sure to share with my friends and coworkers, I was told to "shut my f'ing mouth and leave the restaurant. As I left in disbelief, I was hollered at again and called a fat cow. I will not be returning.
Side note - as a fat cow, I know how bacon, burger and fries should be cooked and this chef was way off the mark!
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