This review of Gladstone’s restaurant in the L.A. Times is pretty amusing:
Beware the Gladstone’s clambake, which the servers push hard. Intended for two, it includes steamed clams, a 1 1/2 -pound lobster, a pound of Alaskan king crab legs, steamed shrimp, corn on the cob and boiled red potatoes. The corn is desiccated. The lobster is fine, but the crab leg, with the same shape and texture as a dog chew toy, seems to suffer from freezer burn. The shrimp are as toxic-tasting as those on the tower. It’s terrible to gaze out to the ocean and imagine the volume of precious seafood being pulled out and ruined every day by this restaurant.
Good fun. And the headline is clever: “Taking the bait at Gladstone’s.” Heh.
But to residents of L.A., is any of this a revelation? At L.A. BizObserved, Marc Lacter says: “The place has been a dump for as long as I can remember, and yet it sells 500 pounds of shrimp and seats 1,500 to 3,000 people per day.” Kevin Roderick chimes in: “No surprise to lovers of good food and fair prices, who long ago gave up on Gladstone’s, but it still packs in unbelievable crowds.”
Well, no kidding. Nobody I know in Los Angeles expects the food at Gladstone’s to be good. Everyone goes because it’s a restaurant with an awesome view.
Next thing you’re going to tell me that the drinks at the Top of the Mark in San Francisco are expensive and watered down.
Ripping this restaurant in a review is amusing, but it’s a little like going on a date with the hottest girl in school, and then announcing to the guys that she doesn’t have that great a personality. How strange, then, that all the guys still want a date with her.
People aren’t going to Gladstone’s 4 the fish. They’re going 4 the view. The L.A. Times does know that, right?