The few restaurant reviews we’ve featured on Trainjotting in the past have been about restaurants based in old station houses, such as Iron Horse Grill in Pleasantville and Valhalla Crossing in, yes, Valhalla. We make a special exception for Chiboust, as it’s by the Tarrytown train station, and Chiboust sounds a little like Caboose.
The Missus brought me to Chiboust Saturday for a milestone birthday of mine. It’s smack in the middle of Tarrytown’s main drag, which is one of Westchester’s finest–lots of people out, an eclectic mix of shops, and all of it leading down to the Hudson, with a gorgeous view of the Tappan Zee.
Chiboust has a Manhattan-y vibe–eclectic art on the walls, ambitious menu, space cozy enough so you can hear your neighbor think.
Everything hinted at a stellar meal, and we indeed got one. But good Lord, did the service undo a positive experience.
We got there a few minutes before our 8:30 reservation, 8:30 being akin to 10:30 for suburban people with small children. We were told to sit at the bar while our table was readied. We ordered drinks and commenced consuming them.
We were then told they were just about done tidying up our table.
We then saw that our table was, in fact, set and completely ready to receive us. Yet no one brought us to our table.
Finally it was 8:53 when we were seated. It got the meal off on the wrong foot.
The apps came quick and were superb; a pulled pork spring roll tastes just as good as you’re imagining it does right now.
The entrees were another story. It seemed to be taking a while, which wasn’t really a huge deal, as the apps kept us from being overly hungry.
Then a waitress with a European accent (German?) informed us that the chef was, in fact, plating our meals right this minute, and they’d be out in “just a second.”
Well, then.
Uh, OK.
We waited, and waited some more. It was probably 15 minutes from when the waitress said our meals were being plated, which makes one think that either the chick is lying, or the meals are spending more time under a heat lamp than Kim Kardashian. No explanation, no apology for the wait.
It got worse. Another waitress brought the plates out (and damn, were they hot), and identified each one (both were seafood). When the Missus and I said what we ordered, she proceeded to place our respective meals in front of us. Only problem was, a few bites in, The Missus realized I was eating her meal.
Truly, most everything the servers/seaters did, they did incorrectly, turning a 90-minute meal into a two-hour one. Fortunately we had TJ’s folks watching the kiddies and it didn’t boost our babysitter tab.
And don’t forget how they charged us for two glasses of Chard when I only had the one!