Perhaps a blind man whose sense of smell and taste has sharpened? Or a man born with five tongues? Surely no ordinary person could coax any taste from this monotonously bland fare. I looked around, confused, at the elbow-to-elbow crowd within Bill's but never arrived at an explanation. This was the worst meal I've had in a very long time. When I bit into the flatbread it wouldn't comply, I had to twist it between my teeth until a piece eventually tore off. It was stale and lifeless - probably bland when it was fresh a few days earlier but now it had mutated into cardboard.
The roasted chicken was anything but - more like partially steamed, the juices and flavor sweated out of it. The skin had turned into a gelatinous sock, asleep at the drumstick's ankle. I've never seen greens so lifeless - they hung from my fork like seaweed on an anchor and I immediately returned them to the plate. I was smiling by now, one of those evil smiles you see the bad guy get in the movies. I was thinking about all the synonyms for "bland" and "lifeless" I would find on thesauraus.com.
Pingle's orecchiette with pork was slightly better, in the same way that a one-eyed man would be in the land of the blind. This was supposed fine dining folks - meaning high prices, white-washed walls and a crowd of the dressy and successy. "Where are the cameras?" I asked Puffin, sure that a joke was being played on us. In the end, there was a joke being played - high-priced dreck being passed off as haute cuisine. Don't walk, RUN.
359 Crown St
Surry Hills Neighborhood