This got off to a great start. I don’t think I’ve ever been greeted by my first name in a restaurant before. Not even in places where I’m a regular. But here, as walked through the door and before I’d opened my mouth, the guy asks, in English, “Are you John?”. Yes, I am. “Welcome Snr Harters”.
Now we love a good asador and really wanted this to be able to rave about this one. But it wasn’t and we can’t. The problem was how long it took for the food to arrive. We’d only ordered main courses and it took about an hour. It really does suck the enjoyment out of an evening when it’s that long. We’d scoffed the freebie olives. The freebie cava had been swigged. The delicious bread had been eaten – even the crumbs. Fingers had been tapped. Eventually food arrived. It’s not as though they were busy. And the problem, as usually the case, was the kitchen not the serving staff.
Chicken, roasted in a wood fired oven, was crispy on the outside and still moist inside. It was everything you want from a roast chicken. Came with roast potatoes. Entrecote steak was a disappointment. Requested at “medium well” – suggested by the server – this was very much on the well side of well done. Good flavour but dry as anything. Under other circumstances, it may well have been sent back – but that’s something we only ever consider in extreme circumstances and, having waited an hour, you just get on with it. A simple salad, of lettuce, tomato and onion worked well with both dishes.
Nope, we weren’t going to bother them by ordering desserts but we did have good café solo to finish.