MICHAEL’S RESTAURANT
Downtown Bloomington, 110 W. Washington Street, On The Square
RATING– 1 Star
–Reviewed By Diner Spy “OO5″
Let me say at the onset that this is not the dining experience I would have chosen for the inaugural Diner Spy restaurant review had I known what was in store for me at a recent visit to Michael’s Restaurant downtown.
If I could have seen into the future, I would have passed on Michaels and reviewed some other establishment—for both my own sake and the sake of the owner of Michael’s.
I say this because I was darned hungry when I went in to Michael’s to dine: I really wanted to have a great meal. I say it also because the owner/manager on staff that night seemed like a very, very nice gentleman and I am about to embarrass him I’m sure.
Je regret.
Is that telegraphing enough you think?
Well, we promised unvarnished, truthful dining reviews here on McPundit. Sigh.
Je regret c’est vrai….
Whenever you go out to dinner you need to take realistic expectations with you as well as money and an appetite.
If you want to experience “fine dining” and expect to pay a higher price for a top entrée (like a New York Strip Steak, $18 to $28), you need to select a restaurant that has a reputation for that kind of fare.
Don’t expect “fine dining” out of a Denny’s, for example. That’s not what a Denny’s is about. It’s equally completely unfair to walk into a Lancaster’s and expect to be served inexpensive family-style diner meals. Let’s do be realistic.
For the record then, Michael’s is a downtown restaurant which has been pushing a “fine dining” image since its inception a decade ago, at least when it comes to Dinner service. At one time Michael’s was considered so “classy” it had valet parking (which seems to have disappeared) before anyone else did.
So when my partner and I sauntered into Michael’s on a Friday night recently, we were expecting something at least “very nice.” Looking at the menu on line, and the prices for some of the entrees, I was expecting “finer” dining.
But you can tell when you walk in the door that perhaps “better days” are behind Michael’s now. It lacks a certain je nais c’est quoi in atmosphere.
While the walls were festooned with interesting historical photographs of downtown, the pictures were too small, and the lighting too dim, to be able to make out any of the images. The carpeting was dark green floral something. The other design appointments included cheap vases stuffed with dusty-looking plastic flowers. The impression was “busy” and “tacky.” It was an eyebrow-raiser from the get-go.
Also unsettling was the fact that the tables had no tablecloths, nor any kind of placemats at all. I expect this at breakfast and lunch service even in Fine Restaurants. But not at dinner. The tables are the most utilitarian generic “restaurant” imaginable too. Ditto the silverware, plates, and glassware—plastic water glasses, mind you. Eyebrows up!
The seating is comfortable at the chairs in the side booths, though of course these booths were a little snug for shall we say, larger people. But they looked generic too, as if purchased at a restaurant close-out sale. They didn’t look like they “fit” any interior design concept. They looked like they fit the “affordable” concept.
There was no mood lighting anywhere—unless you want to count the 30,000 linear feet (it seems) of bright blue florescent overhead lighting as “mood” lighting. There is enough of this blue lighting to stretch from here to Streator, I swear.
This not only becomes annoying after a few minutes, but the blue light makes the food look terrible. Anything red, like a steak, looks lavender inside Michael’s. At least I’m hoping it’s just the lighting…
It is a “dump?” No. Absolutely not. The décor and atmosphere just reminds me of the “Greek Diners” I once knew in New York. Clean, tidy, but “decorated” in name only. These are not places to take an important date or a client. Neither is Michael’s, when it comes to décor, ambience, mood, etc.
So, the preliminaries over, we placed our order with a lovely and enthusiastic young man who had a good appearance. Service at Michael’s? Our waiter and the bus man were acceptable. They didn’t kill us with bad service, let’s just say.
I ordered a NY Strip Steak (12 oz–$18) and my partner ordered a Rib Eye (12 oz $18). We also ordered two Caesar Salads. An easy assignment for a Fine Dining establishment, right?
Our waiter brought us our Caesar Salads immediately. In fact, the salads were delivered so quickly that I had to take pause. How is it possible for a Caesar Salad to be prepared and served within 47 seconds of ordering? Michael’s has the answer to that riddle:
It wasn’t a Caesar Salad. They call it a Caesar Salad, but it wasn’t anything close to a Caesar. The salad was made of Iceberg Lettuce, which looked at thought it had been chopped up by a moping teenager on kitchen punishment. Not a leaf of Romaine anywhere. Carrot shreds! A large wedge of a pinkish tomato! Croutons seasoned with something red and spicy (I suspect it was Chile Pepper). And a dressing completely unrecognizable– and inedible. Without a single flake of lovely Parmesan.
I knew we were in trouble then. If this is what the management of Michael’s thinks is a Caesar Salad…..words fail me. My partner and I slid the plates to the side and looked at each other. Both eyebrows raised by now.
Then came the baked potatoes and the steaks.
The baked potato, about the size of a tennis ball, was served on a little white plate all by its lonely. It was completely bereft of any garnishment whatsoever. I never thought I would miss the sight of a little sprig of parsley or a sprinkling of chives until I saw the ‘bakers’ at Michael’s. They are forlorn.
Baked Potatoes at Wendy’s—wrapped in a sheet of tin foil–are full scale Broadway productions compared to the total lack of presentation at Michael’s.
A bowl was slid towards us, containing plastic “butters” that held one quarter teaspoon each of “butter.” It took opening 12 of these “tiny butters” before I created a decent dollop of butter for my potato. It was service that would have been okay at Burger King perhaps. But not okay at a “fine dining” establishment—
The steaks were on a plate by themselves too. No garnish here either. None. Ever see a steak flopped on a white plate with no attempt at “dress ups” at all? It was astoundingly unappetizing.
But get this: the steaks were swimming in 8 ounces of a canned beef au jus! There was so much liquid poured over these “grilled” steaks that when you tried to cut the meat with a knife, the au jus splashed every where. The waves in my steak “bowl” were little brown Tsunamis created with every saw of the knife.
A good steak should not be drenched with a can of Campbell’s Beef Broth. It’s criminal.
But if this presentational gaff wasn’t bad enough, the steaks were dead cold. And tasteless. Half of my partner’s $18 Rib Eye was so fatty it looked like hog entrails.
Looking at this wreckage in front of me, I tried counting to ten. But it didn’t work. I was forced by devils inside my head (and my gnawing stomach) to call the waiter over and instruct him on how to try to salvage my dinner. The kid took the plate back to the kitchen and tried to fix it. He brought the plates back.
Fail.
Then, the owner came over and tried to “sweet talk” me—as owners will– into liking his restaurant better. He and I talked honestly, politely, and congenially—in whispers– about what was wrong. All he could say to defend his performance as a Restaurateur was to confess that the plastic “butters” were “cheaper” than balls of whipped fake-margarine in small bowls.
I’ve been a restaurant owner, so I understand economies. But serving a baked potato with the tiniest, cheapest little pats of pre-packaged butter is unacceptable. At least if you’re trying to sell your place as a “fine dining establishment.”
Drowning a steak in cheap broth—to hide something no doubt—also won’t fly in a fine dining room.
Nor will leaving out all attempts at garnishments or appetizing presentation.
Trying to ignore the fact that your cooks apparently don’t have enough knowledge of Cuisine to properly prepare a Caesar Salad won’t help either.
As an amends for what was a terrible dinner—neither of us ate much of it—we were offered free desserts. This “treat” amounted to a choice of four generic cheesecakes. You know, the Usual Cheesecake Suspects that every Family Diner type restaurant buys at Sam’s Club, on sale in bulk, and serves.
I chose plain cheesecake. The white cheesecake came on a white plate, decorated with three large piles of senseless Cool Whip. And that, not surprisingly, was it.
Gene’s Ice Cream scores higher up on the dessert scale than Michael’s.
I was served a free cup of coffee too. The coffee was good, and that is saying something. Good coffee in a restaurant, when you’re on a budget—like Michael’s apparently is—is hard to pull off. You’re often forced to buy cheap brands and they taste like boiled Min-Wax. But this coffee was hot, fresh, and had a good taste. They served Half and Half brand “crème.” I was very surprised: I expected envelopes of generic White Powder the size of standard postage stamps.
The owner kept pestering me throughout the dinner, sadly trying to win me back. He failed to understand that the only way to win me, would have been to have agreed with me. Especially when the evidence was staring him in the face from the table.
The owner failed to do the one thing that would have saved the night. He should have picked up my check and torn it into butter-pat sized pieces. I would have were I the owner. I would have done this without a second thought if only because I would have noted the food that came back to the kitchen—we ate little to nothing of the meal.
When customers leave 11 ounces of a 12-ounce New York Strip steak on the plate, believe me, you have failed.
But rather than take the responsibility for the failure himself—on his dime—the owner played condescending “happy bullshit” with us verbally and gave us a check for $43.50.
Oh, je regret!
Now, if I had patronized “Michael’s Family Diner,” I believe I would have formed a completely different opinion of this restaurant. I am sure of it. I would have ordered a Breakfast Combo and been happy. It is hard to screw up scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes.
Is Michael’s a good example of Fine Dining in BoNo? No.
Even a soybean farmer who has spent 120 years living in Congerville could spot this turkey a mile away. This is not a “fine” dining establishment. Not by any yard stick.
Michael’s is really a Diner. A diner that is charging very very high prices on their evening menu for very mediocre food, often badly (I’d even say ignorantly) prepared, presented clumsily at best, in a semi-tacky atmosphere.
Downtown Bloomington desperately needs a Diner, especially a late-night or all night Diner. This is the role that Michael’s should be playing, I believe.
Now, as promised, whenever we have to give a restaurant on Diner Spy a “bad” review, we will give the place a second chance. We’ll go back in a few months and try Michael’s again. I won’t go on that case, but another “Double O,” like 006, will cover it.
Does it make me happy to report any of this? No. I cheer for Restaurant owners in this town who try to make a living and “stick” amidst tough competition. It would be very bad for Downtown if a place like Michael’s were ever to close.
So let me repeat this suggestion: Michael’s as a Diner works. Michael’s is perfectly positioned to capture that market, especially Downtown. Sunday Brunch fans and Weekday lunch crowds seem to love Michael’s fare and presentation during those hours.
Gentlemen: please give up the “fine dining” pose. Simplify your menu, lower the prices, and go full blown Diner mode. The décor and even the blue lighting will be seen as “inspired” for a Diner. My hunch is, the joint will be packed.
And New York Strip steaks and Caesar Salads everywhere will thank you.