This is not about the food at the Melting Pot in Albany, NY. I tried that a few years ago and the overpriced under-servings were not worth their own write-up. But when service and attitude are in such poor form when I stopped by for a drink the other night, it merits a moment of mention. I stopped in for a cocktail after the bar scene at the Standard was too crowded; the bar at the Melting Pot was happily empty, and only two tables next to the bar were occupied. As I sat down, the bartender was coming around the corner and dismissively said she’d be back in a minute. After a few minutes she returned and asked what I wanted.
“Do you have Campari?†I inquired, contemplating a negroni.
“No,†came the quick and curt reply.
“Ok, how about a Hendrick’s martini, very dry, with a twist?â€
She gave a nod and began measuring out the gin. When she began measuring the vermouth, I already saw that it was too much for a very dry martini. I repeated that I wanted it very dry and that was too much.
“Well an ounce is standard and I was pouring half an ounce,†she said with a discernible attitude. (Listen, I know attitude. I can give it, I get it, and I know it well. She had an attitude.) One can go two routes at such a point: give it back or diffuse. Feeling generous, I attempted the latter. Trying to engage and get her to smile, I said I really wanted just a drop or two. She hadn’t yet poured the vermouth into the shaker, but she dumped out both in the sink and said she could start again. I didn’t know why she wasted all that perfectly good gin, but that’s the Melting Pot’s issue, not mine, even if I hate to see decent gin wasted in such an unnecessary and flagrant manner.
She started again and slammed a fistful of ice into the shaker, some of which overshot and spilled right in front of me. No apology, no acknowledgment, no oops whatsoever, just stone-cold attitude. Not a big deal, but the ice would remain there until it melted.
Here’s the thing: I know people have bad days. I’ve had them. We’ve all had them. But in the service industry you learn to at least make an effort to mask it or treat people decently. This young woman just didn’t care. She was in a bad mood and she was not having anything. Not even simple human decency. That’s what was disappointing.
She placed a dirty martini glass on a napkin in front of me and poured the drink. It looked like a bit of dried pimento was stuck to the base (see accompanying photo) but she remembered the twist and plopped it into the drink. I didn’t bother asking for a new one because at that point it might well have sent her over the edge. She soon went back to eating a plate of pretzels and dipping them in a sauce assembled on the back of the bar, which happened to be right in front of me. Pet peeve: bartenders who eat at the bar while they’re working.
Another guy sat down at the bar and apparently was a friend of hers, as she picked up a bottle of beer and put it in front of him without being asked. “I’ve only been here one hour and everybody has already pissed me off,†she explained to him. At least it wasn’t personal.
