OBIKA MOZZARELLA BAR

 

So, here’s my favorite kind-of review—a yin-and-yang one. Nothing was fabulous, nothing was heinous. But, at the end, the manager’s behavior was to be applauded, so I think it’s an interesting story.

My friend Diane called one day recently to take me to a spontaneous, beginning-of-the-year lunch. After much thought about which direction we should go in, we decided on Obika Mozzarella Bar in the Century City Mall because I had never been there before (the eatery, not the mall) and we both love cheese. (And I wanted to pick-up my birthday “gift” from Sephora, which is there, too.)

So, it was easy enough to get to, we had parking space luck, and our choice of inside or outside. Our bad luck, upon choosing the inside, was to get a waitress we later found out was on her first day there!

She seemed like an okay enough girl, but she put us in a slightly bad mood right away by trying to “explain” the easily-enough-written menu, as if we were children. When I told her that, as I’ve been a restaurant critic for a long while now, I know how to read a menu, she should have then been on her best behavior because she knew that it was her first day! But, she said to let her know if we had any questions, which, as it turns out, was a waste of time because she had no real answers.

So, we ordered a platter of wonderful burrata cheese and flatbread to start with. Simple enough, right? It came with lots of basil leaves, three tiny cherry tomatoes, and three tiny black items. (Which, when there are two people sharing it, couldn’t they just throw in an extra tiny one of each, to make it four and four?)

The black things looked like skinned olives, which would be weird, so I asked Diane, who confirmed that yes, they are olives, which I absolutely detest. The girl arrived at the table once again, inquiring if we had any questions. So, to be on the safe side, I asked, “These are olives, correct?” She replied with an emphatic, “NO!,” and told us they were a special kind of fig! Diane again told her she really thought they were olives, and the girl assured us that they were, indeed, figs.

Well, as much as I loathe olives, I enjoy figs, so I bit right into one. When I almost broke a tooth on a pit, you guessed it, I found-out the hard way that she was wrong. Very wrong! I let her know right away, so that no other customer would be so victimized as I, and she barely uttered an, “I’m sorry.” I let her know that I almost broke a tooth, (which has actually hurt ever since then, by the way, which was almost a week ago!,) and that my meal, and day, was now ruined because I hate olives that much; and she didn’t even think to get the manager! Or ask him what to do. And she knew it was her first day, so that problem-solving wouldn’t be her strong suit. I just don’t understand people like that.

My life policy is to try to never let a bad event ruin a good one, so I bucked-up and on we plugged with our meal. (I was more into hanging with Diane, and catching-up on the dish, than having a great meal. Duh; otherwise, we wouldn’t have chosen this place to begin with!)

We each ordered a panini with a bowl of soup. My chicken panini was downright delicious, and Diane said the same about her vegetarian one. So, that part of the experience was great for us. But the squash soup, that the girl couldn’t describe, (except to declare, without being asked, that it doesn’t contain any cream, except for the swirl of it on the top, which is just dumb,) was tasteless. As Diane said, it tasted “very squash-y.” There was no nutmeg or cinnamon, or even salt it appeared! It wasn’t horrible; just tasteless. But, it was healthful, so we ate it.

But, as I was trying to enjoy mine, the girl came back over, and Diane asked to take the second half of her sandwich to-go. So, being the slowest eater on the planet, I said I wanted to take my other half, as well. Well…instead of taking away my sandwich plate, she took my whole platter…with the soup…which I was eating!!! She took away half a bowl of soup, which I was planning on finishing! OMG!

At that point, we just wanted to get out of there, so I didn’t protest, except to Diane, who couldn’t believe what she had just witnessed, either. And, who knew what she was going to bring me if I had asked for my soup back!!!

On top of all that, she never once came over to re-fill our water glasses, and we had to ask each time we wanted more water. Pretty unbelievable for a supposedly hip eatery in 2013!

I was chomping at the bit to get back to my computer and write this review for you. In with the check came a rating card, with a comment section. Well, I decided to be nice and let them know what had happened, before I reviewed it in print. But I didn’t want to put the card back in with the bill for the waitress (and I really do use that term loosely) to see and discard.

So, I found the manager and handed it to him. He was horrified at what we had gone through, and asked for our check back to comp the meal! As he should have, although, since we were seriously on our way out, we hadn’t even thought of that at the time. We thanked him but declined. So, he wrote up a gift certificate for Diane to use on her next visit there, (since she had been the one to treat.) That was very classy of him. And the correct way to run a business.

We told him that we didn’t want the girl fired, but just informed of her mistakes, to spare the next customer from breaking a tooth or having his or her mouth taste like poison for the rest of the day, (no matter how much chocolate frozen yogurt they used to wash that taste out!!!) That’s when he told us it was her first day. Just our luck.

So, there you have it. My review of Okiba’s food: half good, half just so-so. Of their service: brutal!!! Of the manager’s people skills: great! Of my chances of going back there: zero point zero zero!