"It's Too Hot For Red"

So proclaimed the "server." Quotes for the word "server" because the only thing she shared with a professional server is that she carried the food we ordered from the kitchen to our table.

I don't normally trash a restaurant on this blog because we can't afford the time or the money involved to re-visit a place that we don't like. And a critic should go several times before trashing a place. But I'm not a critic, I'm a blogger, so I can say what I want, and you understand that it is what it is. One person's opinion based on, in this case, one visit.

BrooklynLady and I went to The Queen's Hideaway on a recent Friday night. I'd heard about this place a few years ago and always meant to try it. Sounds good, doesn't it - whatever Liza Queen buys at the farmers market and feels like cooking, that's what you get. Expect home cooking, like smoked ribs, fried okra, corn bread, things like that. Served up fresh in a (formerly) out-of-the-way spot in Greenpoint...what could be more fun? When I read the feature article on the restaurant in the summer issue of Edible Brooklyn, I knew it was finally time to get over there.

When I made our reservation (which took some doing, as no one returned my phone calls) I asked about the corkage policy. "We don't allow it," Queen said. She went on to explain that she puts a lot of care into the wine list and although she used to allow corkage, she doesn't any more. But there are plenty of great wines, she promised.

We sat in the garden and looked over the menu. The wine list, though, offered three sparklers (none by the glass), three whites and three rosés. No red wine. The main dish choices were skirt steak or scallops, and since I usually avoid scallops in restaurants, I would eat steak. How could there be no red wine on this carefully selected wine list?!? The group of 6 people at the table near us asked the same question and were told "It's too hot for red" by their server. How do you like them apples.

Meanwhile, our "server" vanished into the night, maybe doing the next day's shopping. Since we were one of only three occupied tables in the restaurant I decided to go look for her after 10 minutes. She was chatting at the front of the restaurant, and was definitely not thrilled by me interrupting her. Shortly thereafter she showed up to take our order. The following exchange ensued:

Me: "What is Ham Galantine?"
Her: "It's like a hamburger."
Me: "You mean it's ground and cooked in a patty?"
Her: "It's ham that's been picked at and shaped like a hamburger."

Well, that's all we needed to hear to ensure that neither we, nor anyone we love would ever order the Ham Galantine. We laughed - I mean who cares, really. It's a hot but lovely friday night in July and we're out together having dinner in the garden. So what if I'm drinking Leitz Riesling out of a stemless water glass with my steak.

The food was fine, nothing great, nothing terrible, just fine. The fried okra appetizer was way too greasy and overloaded with breading. The Dutch pancake topped with cherry tomatoes was good. The steak was nicely seasoned and the best thing on the table was the corn pudding that came on the side. Even at $25, the steak was a satisfying dish. If this were my local joint, I'd be happy to stop in for dinner about once a month, because the food is fine. But this is not a destination spot. And when you take the truly awful service into account...unless my experience was a complete anomaly, I really cannot imagine why anyone would travel to have dinner at this restaurant.

By the time we were done with our dinner we were ready to bolt. It was getting really hot in the garden and we had dreams of strolling through Greenpoint hand in hand eating ice cream cones. But where was our "server?" She vanished again. Eventually I went to find her, again interrupted her conversation, and asked for the check. She brought it, I handed her my credit card and the following exchange ensued:

Her: "Our credit card machine is broken."
Me: "Well, I don't have cash - I called first to ask if I could use a card."
Her: "The machine broke recently."
Me: "So, should I mail you a check or something?"
Her: "There's an ATM at the deli a couple of blocks away."
Me: "You know what, why don't you send the owner out here."
Her: "I'll go and try it again. Sometimes it charges you twice."
Me: "Hopefully this will not be one of those times."

Still not sure whether or not I was charged twice. And it still bothers me that I left any tip at all, as opposed to 10%. When I was a waiter in college, a 10% tip meant that I royally screwed up service. Does it still mean that?

We left, relieved to be gone, a bit sad at the state of the restaurant game in NYC, happy to be strolling hand in hand through Greenpoint. We had delicious pistachio/cardamom ice-cream cones, by the way.

The Queen's Hideaway
222 Franklin Street
Greenpoint, Brooklyn
718-383-2355

Wine - below average. Tiny list, no corkage allowed
Food - average. Appetizers: $8 - $15, Mains $25
Service - poor.
Ambiance - average.
Value - average.