Jacques-Imo’s ain’t all that…

So to my vehement protestations, one of our group decided that we would dine at Jacques-Imo’s last night. I grumbled that the last thing I wanted to do was shuffle around on the Oak Street sidewalk waiting for a table in 90+ degree heat (the alternative being to get cigarette stinky and drunk in the Maple Leaf), so we got a reservation for 5:15 – with the other available time being 9:30, waaaaaay past most of our bedtimes. I’m old, what can I say…

We were ushered into the next-door-former-seafood-market-cum-dining-room and were seated at the table to the left next to the entry. Our tables were covered in Wal-Mart plastic tablecloths, and the floor was grimy and greasy. The walls were shabby. Outside the window, poor Frenchy across the street had his art propped up outside on easels, hoping that someone would maybe buy a piece. As the evening progressed the room got hotter and hotter as the flies filtered in since the door was opening and closing every few minutes. One woman waiting for her party actually stood in the doorway propping it open while I could SEE the ozone filtering into the dining room. I almost yanked her back into the restaurant as the sweat accumulated on my brow. The unbearable pulsating rock music was enough to make one scream, coupled with the nagging hostess – how we doing on the order, nooooo ruuuuush (but in actuality everyone knows she meant hurry up and order so we can get the next group in as quick as possible).

When the entrees finally arrived after our waitress warned us it would be 45 minutes to prepare (what’s the deal, Crabby Jack’s is only a 5 minute drive away?), the food left a lot to be desired. I can put up with a certain amount of shabby chic, but when the food sucks too, then forget it. My fish was overcooked and had barely a teaspoon of crabmeat on top. Another piece of fish was blackened to toughness. The mashed potatoes looked like lumpy baby food, and the greens had stems instead of any seasonings. To top it off the wine was quite warm when it arrived to the table. After dinner, we were sitting at the table chatting and the stares from the waitstaff became unbearable. Well guess what, you can have your damn table, we went elsewhere for dessert and coffee and time to chat without being chased off.

I’ve been to this establishment several times and each time have been disappointed. I simply cannot grasp the buzz about this place – if I am gonna spend that kind of money, I want to dine in a cool room without batting flies away from my food, without pulsating rock blaring in my ears, and yeah, the food better be good. Yeah I know there are lots of folks that loooooove Jacques-Imo’s, but you can omit me from that list. Never again…

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~ by maringouin on Sunday, July 20, 2008.

 
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