Jen P.
Yelp
Should've trusted our instincts (and the parking lot).
My best friend and I were visiting New Orleans and looking for a casual sit-down dinner that didn't require navigating the French Quarter or negotiating with a prix-fixe seafood tasting menu. She's Team Shellfish, I'm Team Absolutely Not, and The Backyard seemed like a happy medium: diverse menu, chill vibes, close drive from our Airbnb. What could go wrong?
Spoiler alert: A lot.
It started in the parking lot, or rather, the lack of one. After circling for a bit, we found a spot across the street--only to be summoned back by a security guard letting us know that lot belonged to a different restaurant. (Maybe slap a sign up, y'all?) He was kind enough to let us park on the street and even offered to keep an eye on our car. Honestly, he gets five stars. He's not the problem.
We walked into The Backyard and were immediately steered toward the bar or outside seating--which was weird because it's summer in NOLA and there were literally open tables in the dining room. We requested one of those two-tops and were seated. No menus arrived for a while, so we browsed Yelp pics and crossed our fingers.
When our server did arrive, I asked if they had root beer on the fountain. She said yes. I got a bottle. Not a huge deal, but it was the first in a line of small missteps.
Then came the mysterious cheese conversation. We were told there was only one slice of provolone left--which would've been super relevant if either of us had ordered cheese. (We didn't. We ordered Sloppy Joes.) Our server apologized and took that conversation to a table that had actually ordered cheese.
The food finally came out (pretty mid, nothing memorable), and then--after we started eating--our appetizer showed up. Bold move.
And then... it rained. Indoors. On us.
Drips started falling from the ceiling--right over our table--from an exposed pipe and vent. My friend got hit on the shoulder, then her food. That was it. The final soggy straw.
We didn't cause a scene. But we did mention it to our server, who told us, "There's nothing we can do, but if you want to move to another table, you can. It's only condensation." (ONLY condensation? From a dirty pipe? On our food? C'mon, Tina. You can do better than that!)
My friend asked for a refill, and five minutes later our server walked by with a tray for another table and told her, "that's right - you wanted another beer!" We reminded her it was a Diet Coke. She returned with the beer (yes, you read that right) five minutes after that, and then finally a Diet Coke another couple of minutes later.
Shortly after that, we received a check. Not ours, but what did we expect? We got the check with the beers on it. We were able to call our server over and alert her to (ANOTHER) error, and she finally brought ours out. (It was more than the first one; we should have paid the front check!)
We paid. We left. And now we review.
Two stars because the root beer in the bottle was pretty good and the sandwich (pre-drip) was not bad. Also, the security guard who didn't even belong to them was delightful. I don't want to be completely heartless. But would we go back? Not unless the air conditioning unit makes a public apology.