We were at the family cottage near Huntsville (in the region of
Muskoka) for our coveted annual one-week stay. It was our first evening there, and we were a bit tired from the hassle of traveling and lugging our belongings from the car down the precarious stone path to the cottage. We didn't feel like cooking, so we decided to go to a restaurant in town. For a bustling tourist town whose population doubles in the summer months, Huntsville has a curious dearth of good restaurants. There are the predictable chains and fast-food establishments, like East Side Mario's, Crabby Joe's, McDonald's, and Wendy's. There are also a few independent places that we've either tried and been disappointed by, or that we weren't in the mood for (financially or otherwise). So we decided on the comfortable choice:
The Cottage Waterfront Grill.
The Cottage (as it is known for short) is a Huntsville fixture. Situated on the scenic
Muskoka River in the middle of
Historic Downtown, it has provided refreshment to boat travellers and others alike for almost 20 years. The setting truly is beautiful. Diners can sit on the large open-air patio or in the gazebo and watch the boat traffic, the pedestrians on the old swing bridge, and the sun sparkling off the deep black water of the Muskoka River. Unfortunately, the beauty pretty much ends there.
We approached the restaurant, signed in with the hostess (a rather bored-looking young woman who seemed preoccupied with her Blackberry), and after only a few minutes, were called in. We were asked if we would like to dine inside the main restaurant, or in the outdoor area. We chose outdoor, as the weather was good and the scenery would be better than the generic Muskoka-themed interior decor of the main restaurant. As we passed through the main restaurant, I vaguely noted that it seemed a little dirty and disheveled, but put it down to shift change in the midst of the busy season.
We were first led to an umbrella table on the lower tier of the patio, just beside the river. However, the sun was in our eyes, so we asked to move to the upper tier, which is covered by an awning. We were seated beside a large family, at a 2-person table that rocked and teetered on the uneven brick surface. Once at our new table, we had to wait a while for our waitress, but this was probably just because we were a new table in her area. We got our
menus, and proceeded to peruse.
Hmm. Not much there. A nice offering of burgers with somewhat innovative toppings, but not much besides that. I went for the Beef B.B. King with onion rings, and Robin ordered the Beef Fresh Connection with sweet potato fries. We did not order appetizers. I ordered a Pepsi and Robin ordered a margarita, with extra lime and not too much ice.
We then proceeded to wait. And wait. And wait. During this time, we had the opportunity to look around a little. There was the Muskoka River, as beautiful and well-travelled as ever. We began to notice things about the restaurant itself. My eye kept moving to the cobblestone patio surface. It was dirty-- very dirty. There were many food and drink stains that looked like they could have dated back to the early '80s, crumbs, chewing gum, even cigarette butts. Now, a mess is to be expected in the high season, but so is regular cleaning. The shame is that the mess we saw was nothing a good sweep and hose-off wouldn't have fixed. I began to be concerned as to the state of the kitchen.
When our drinks finally arrived, Robin's margarita proved to be of the frozen variety. No biggie. She hadn't actually specified that she wanted it on the rocks, but neither did the waitress ask, and saying "not too much ice" pretty well implies on the rocks. However, there was something more important missing: the salt rimmer. Margaritas are always rimmed in salt, and it's an integral part of the taste experience. Robin asked for the salt, and the drink was taken away. A few minutes later it reappeared, rimmed with (wait for it) table salt. This is wrong. A margarita is supposed to be rimmed with coarse salt. Table salt is way too fine, delivering an overpowering salt punch that ruins the tequila and lime flavours. Robin would have sent it back again, but the waitress disappeared in a hurry and we didn't see her again for some time.
When she did reappear, it was with our burgers. After the plates were set down, Robin asked the waitress if she could have the proper salt on her glass, instead of the table salt. The waitress was dumbfounded, and said that this was the only kind of salt they had. OK then.
My burger was quite tasty, with ample amounts of blue cheese and candied pork bellies (like sweet, crumbled bacon). The tomato, however, was pinkish and the consistency of wet styrofoam. I set it aside, musing that fresh, local tomatoes should be in season. Also, the bun was on the stale side. My side order of onion rings was also disappointing. Although nicely prepared and delicious, there were only 5 (and they were not particularly large).
I think Robin's burger was reasonably tasty. However, she did notice that the pineapple slice did not appear to be "grilled" as the menu promised, and that the "sliced pear" was in fact a hunk of a canned pear.
A canned pear! This was pretty intensely disappointing for a few reasons. First, it was not as promised. Sure, the menu didn't explicitly state that it would be a sliced
fresh pear, but it is kind of implied by the dish's name: The Fresh Connection. Second, pears grow in Ontario. Right here in our own province. There should be no reason to resort to their inferior, canned cousins. Third and most important, it just didn't have the flavour and texture of a fresh pear slice. The sweet potato fries were delicately crispy and good, but again, not very numerous.
Our mostly-unseen waitress did finally return. Robin asked to speak to the manager, as this last straw (the pear) was just too much to bear. The manager came to our table quickly and listened to our complaints. He apologized for everything, saying that he did not understand why the bartender had used table salt, as there is coarse salt available at the bar. With regard to the pear, he again apologized, citing the recent drought and the subsequent surge in fruit prices. Robin suggested that if they were unable to provide fresh ingredients for a dish, that the dish be temporarily removed from the menu. To his considerable credit, the manager comped us the burger and the margarita, and gave us a $25 voucher for our next meal at The Cottage. In fact, he handled it perfectly: listened, apologized, and made it as right as he could. Managers, take note: this is how it's done.
Despite the manager's exemplary performance, and despite the few good points of our meal, we left feeling somewhat uncertain as to whether we would ever be cashing in our $25 voucher. Quite disappointing overall.
See Part 2!
