David Wilson
Google
São Paulo has a plethora of self-important restaurants that are self-important for no particular reason. This unfortunately is one of them.
First course: an overdressed, wilted iceberg salad. When I had finished, the waiters (who were literally standing around our table) couldn’t be bothered to remove the salad bowl. And when I was brought my main course, the waiter serving it just looked at me until I moved the bowl away myself. He then put the new plate down and walked away — not bothering to remove the salad bowl or, more importantly, give me new cutlery. I had to ask another waiter to bring me a knife and fork.
The main course turned out to be a large hamburger covered in melted cheese served with a tasteless risotto. Absolutely revolting.
The dessert was even worse — a piece of indiscernible, insipid cake topped with chalky chocolate. I took one bite and pushed it away.
The restaurant is presided over by a pompous host (or manager — not sure what he was exactly) who walked around the place as if he was the captain of a Michelin starred restaurant (and not a forgettable restaurant in a shopping mall).
His staff, it appeared, took their cues from him — displaying equal parts pompousness while being poorly trained and not very polite.
Grade: C