There are a lot of us here for the Olympic Games: 3,500 athletes, 26,000 staff and volunteers, and more than 70 news agencies. The so-called Main Media Center, where said agencies are based, has its own 800-seat cafeteria, 200-seat bar/lounge and a 75-seat upscale Italian eatery called Tavern 2002. All that’s fine, and we frequent them often. But downtown Salt Lake City offers more than 200 other dining options. And I’d like to try a few dozen before I depart.
In the city’s guide to the Olympic Games, Mayor Ross “Rocky” Anderson promises: “If you have a hunger for excellent food, you will have no trouble satisfying your appetite.” That’s true. The lamb chops at Lamb’s Grill Cafe were warm and juicy, and the side of green mint jelly winterized the roof of my mouth. The super-spicy “death roll” at Ichiban Sushi–yes, there’s sushi here–didn’t kill me, and for that I am eternally grateful to the owners. But these very same owners have struggled a bit to deal with the flood of visitors that have descended on them, and it’s made for some rather awkward dining experiences.
On Valentine’s Day, a colleague and her husband went out for a romantic meal at the upscale Bambara, located in the Hotel Monaco (the self-proclaimed hippest place to stay in town). Now, everyone likes an attentive wait staff (with wait being the operative word.). But the waiter asked if they wanted dessert when they were still in the middle of eating their entrees. My colleague had made little progress on the Fisherman’s stew, which came with a lobster claw but without anything to crack it. Why the rush? There was a 15-minute back up in authorizing credit cards due to the overwhelming number of diners paying with plastic. Their waiter would need to know if he should add dessert to the bill, if they planned to charge the meal, so as not to keep them waiting until the 2004 Games.
Later in the week, another colleague’s father and his father’s girlfriend came to town. He wanted to have a nice send-off dinner for them at the end of their stay. They were leaving early Thursday morning, heading back to Minnesota. So he called Metropolitan, a high-end spot trying very hard to look like it’s not trying, and reserved a table for seven at 9 p.m. When we arrived, the hostess took our coats, seated us, and then a waiter asked us if we’d prefer sparkling or still water. Still, we said, then opened our menus.
That’s when we got a little bit antsy. “Uh, hey,” I said to my colleague, trying to be casual. “I don’t see any prices on here.” When dishes have no prices, that means one of two things: either you’re at a wedding, or there’s a prix fixe. No one in our party was getting married that night, so we settled on the latter. We soon learned that it would cost us $95 for the pleasure of dining there. That’s about $35 more than a 3-course prix-fixe meal at Gramercy Tavern, one of New York City’s elite spots. We slid out of our seats–there were no a la carte options–quicker than a downhill racer on the final stretch, our exit delayed only by the hostess who assured my colleague that she’d mentioned this, minor point. “Obviously,” my colleague replied, “that would’ve thrown up a red flag.”
A Metropolitan spokeswoman told The Salt Lake Tribune on Friday, “This isn’t chopped liver; it is fine dining.” The prices, boosted by 20 percent, go toward defraying increased service and inventory costs, she said. Utahns showing driver licenses get a 15 percent price break; Newsweekers, showing press credentials, do not.
Larry Mankin, president of the Salt Lake Area Chamber of Commerce, told the newspaper that businesses are not trying to fleece Olympic visitors. “You have to make hay when the sun is shining,” he said. “There are a few who may be taking advantage of the Games in an over-aggressive manner, but not that many.”
Certainly not the folks at Mikado. They were very laid back, shuttling us to a basement bar where we had time for an Asahi (a Japanese beer). Or three, had we wanted, since the wait was so long. When we were finally seated, I had lemony pork gyoza and a fresh sushi/sashimi plate–both at fairly reasonable prices. I’d sort of wanted the sukiyaki, but the restaurant was so crowded that they had run out of table stoves, which was really sort of annoy–well, I’d better stop there. I’m in town until the 24th, and I’d like to survive another death roll.
