Brentwood Corn

There are two Brentwoods in California….the Brentwood down near Hollywood, where the rich and famous reside, and the Brentwood in the ‘Far East Bay’ or the ‘Far Western San Joaquin Valley’, whichever sounds better to you. 😉 Our local Brentwood is known for the quality of their corn. When you go to the grocery stores or farmers’ market, the signs proudly proclaim, “Brentwood Corn”, and you know you’re getting the good stuff. Well, we went to Brentwood the other night for dinner. Ted’s mom had heard good things about Cap’s Oak Street Bar & Grill, so we all piled in the car and took her there for her birthday dinner. All I have to say is, I think the people in the ‘far east bay’ are starving for nice restaurants, because this place was so-so in my book. The ambiance was very nice, white tablecloths, waiters making bananas foster table-side, that kind of thing. The menu had a nice variety of fish and meat and pasta. But scratch the surface, and what do you get? A waitress who took care of all of her other tables, but not so much ours. Could that be the brown people in our party? Or maybe the fact that there were 8 of us, while the other tables were mostly couples or ‘4 tops’? I’ve worked in the restaurant industry, and I know some wait staff are guilty of ignoring the bigger tables, or at least putting them off until after they take care of the smaller ones, because the big tables take longer, and the smaller tables can get impatient. Besides, with her tip already figured into the bill, she had nothing to lose, right? So, the food was barely OK, the service sub-par, the atmosphere nice. But the nail in the coffin, what would keep us from ever returning to Cap’s? In a world of plenty, in the Corn Fest mecca of Northern California, this was actually served to me. Made it onto my plate (lazy cook) and all the way to the table (lazy waitress). I sent it back, and it WAS RETURNED TO ME, along with a better looking ear. And from there, into my purse, as Ted said, “FOR THE BLOG!”

(I wish my original comments hadn’t been lost along with the Blogspot/comment situation…some fan or employee of Cap’s accused me of planting the crappy corn to slander the restaurant. And a family member reminded me that no, it probably wasn’t racism, because the whole table was brown people, and me, a Caucasian, got the crappy corn. Good stuff.)