Rick P.
Yelp
In a single word - Disappointing!
Have you ever felt used, as though you were only being "processed" until presented a check? In forty years of world travel on nearly every continent with dining experiences from Michelin to Mac-D this was unique. Having made reservations several months in advance we looked forward to visiting this long running often lauded establishment. It was a gorgeous summer evening; the bustling dinner crowd in Lisbon was just emerging as we walked from our apartment to the quaint little door of SOLAR DOS PRESUNTOS that seemed to exuded a since of charm and warmth.
Whatever romanticized delusion we were in vanished the moment we crossed the threshold. As we were crammed into a space about the size of three phone booths, if you recall those pre-cell boxes for communication, with another couple facing a girl staring at a reservation terminal and a man more guard then maître d. Receiving no greeting or pleasantry from either we offered our name and reservation time. Quickly confirming both she told her coworker we had until 9:00, a two-hour window, granting him permission to open the glass partition separating us from a dining room where only several of maybe a dozen tables were occupied.
Like Star trek compartment accesses, the glass slid away, the man motioning for us to follow a woman on the other side. The efficiency of the door was as acute as the lack hospitality. We were led up a staircase, through another small dining area to a claustrophobic, low ceilinged cubical sort of room with walls entirely covered in collages of various uninteresting pictures in a far corner with about eight tables where two were occupied and two were set with starters already laid out, then let loose. We selected the table not directly adjacent to a party of six, partially through their meal, seating ourselves.
The lapse was brief before our waiter, ether having used medication that produced, or needing some to lessen his anxiety arrived placing a small, mounted placard about the size of an egg bearing a QR code on our table then turned away saying nothing. Ok, we get the Covid protocol, however, those restrictions have rapidly diminished and are now largely only observed in with public transportation. We appreciate concerns for our safety. In selecting between the Big MAC or the Quarter Pounder observing the menu on a cell phone doesn't exactly delude the dining experience. When the menu, conversely, has multiple courses with divisional selections, appetizers, wine, cocktail, and dessert list its cumbersome to be making choices unable to view a grander version appropriate to the experience. This becoming one of those petty first-world annoyances we must tell ourselves how fortunate we are to endure. When he returned, we inquired if we could have printed menus. Clearly impatient, our waiter quickly reappeared stating they had menus but none in English. Apparently, as frustrated as us, he offered no comment or apology, aware forty years was probably sufficient if management cared to accommodate the clientele.
Perhaps not cocaine inspired behavior, nonetheless, our comic noir waiter was back at us three times within minutes asking for our order and appealing for us to decide. Drink selections were no less odd. My companion asked for an Apperol Spritz and I said I didn't wish a cocktail but was deciding my entrée before ordering wine. The waiter seemed genuinely baffled claiming to have never heard of Apperol. We assured him the bartender would be familiar. The bright orangish red aperitif has been commonly noted on tables across the Mediterranean for nearly 100 years.
Twice more requested to order within moments, we got the distinct impression we were unwitting contestants in some game concocted by staff of who could turn the table faster. Questions concerning menu items further identified our issue. The waiter unable to quickly manipulate the multiple drop-down lists had to fumble between things, like us, trying to view the various offerings and help us in the selection of a wine using our phone. His ire and personal frustration surfacing with a look and tone of comical self-deprecating disgust at his own embarrassment at being put in this position by a management that didn't care. My dinner companion decided on the pork, I the sea bass, leaving my wine selection to the waiter as he couldn't find or show me on the menu what was available by the glass so I could choose.
The Apperol Spritz was still nowhere to be seen. Evident, however, were the cute wooden box with wonderful breads, the bowl of olives, the cheese and tray of meats. This was my friends first visit to Portugal. He didn't realize its customary here to place these on the table and only charge for them if someone is tempted to touch one of the delights. He had the same reaction most do when they discover this - what a scam, like some edible entrapment. About this time a family with two small children were seated directly next to u
