Ahmed H
Google
The location is great, but the service? Now that’s where things get truly special. I had the pleasure of encountering the head waiter—His Highness. HH was proudly holding down the fort, standing guard at the sacred gates of table assignments, making sure to remind everyone that he alone decides who sits where. As you can imagine, such a responsibility demands an exceptional level of qualification and a remarkably high IQ—both of which he no doubt believes he possesses in abundance.
We had just finished skiing—family and instructors together—but apparently, tables here are reserved for ghosts, since he refused to seat us properly. The best part? The table he wouldn’t let us use stayed empty the whole time. Clearly, he’s mastered a groundbreaking business model—revenue is overrated.
Then came the food. The sushi roll arrived in a single piece instead of the usual 4 or 6, almost like it had been pre-cut and thrown onto a plate last minute. Not a word of explanation, just a silent drop-off like this was completely normal. And when I tried to ask about it? He walked away, pretending not to hear me. Impressive technique—I should try that at meetings.
And the espresso? Pure luxury—if your idea of luxury is a machine-made, button-pressed coffee straight out of an office break room. The kind that spits out a sad excuse for espresso at the push of a button. I imagine the machine was exhausted from trying to make this place look high-end.
To top it off, when I went to pay, His Highness was deep in conversation, imparting his great wisdom to his colleague—debating the profound topics of which table to wipe first and in what sacred order the plates should be cleared. Completely ignoring me, of course, as if I didn’t exist. I wouldn’t dream of interrupting such an intellectual symposium, so I simply stood there, taking in the elite service in action.
I’ll probably forget this place by next week, but I bet he’ll still be here, holding down the fort until the end of his life.
