Being that yesterday hit the low 90s and we're still in April, you couldn't NOT find an outdoor space to saunter off to after work. KH, MF and I decided to meet up for drinks and dinner, and after reviewing a few candidates with outdoor seating, we settled on Beer Bar. After all, the name is right up our alley.Beer Bar offers a pretty sprawling, covered patio in the heart of Manhattan at the MetLife building - a unique space that I had never seen before. It seems a great place for people-watching as it draws a crowd of businessmen and flirtatious women seeking businessmen, and also allows for idly watching passers-by along the sidewalk. The three of us sat down, initially exhilarated by the weather and the seemingly great space.
We each ordered a beer off the fairly extensive menu, and it was served to us in a standard plastic cup by a waitress whose accent, we decided, was entirely concocted. While we sipped, we couldn't help but stare at a desperate girl sunburnt down her front-side only, in a green sundress over what seemed to be an atrocious sports bra and ridiculous heels, trying unsuccessfully to both flirt and look pretty.
Tearing our eyes away from her, we returned to the menu and discovered a very small selection of bar food that did not contain, as MF had thought, a decadent chocolate lava cake. We learned we had the option of ordering from the more sophisticated and expensive menu from the indoor French restaurant, but we passed that up for the bar food. KH and I ordered 3 mini sliders each, and MF settled on a chicken queadilla minus the sour cream. Our food arrived and her plate was laden with sour cream. The sliders were nothing special, but as I wasn't too hungry, they did the job of filling me up at $8 for 3.
When it came time for us to deposit MF at Grand Central, we were appalled to find that our bill was $100. We had each only ordered 3 beers and a small, cheap order from the bar food menu. The 12 oz. beers supposedly were $5.50 each, and a 23.5 oz beer was $7. We all assumed that we had been drinking 12 oz beers but the waitress insisted they only served the larger beers outside. I'm holding a Starbucks grande plastic cup right now, which apparently is 16 oz, and let me tell you, the beers we had last night were definitely not larger than this cup - we got gypped.
The waitress saw us complaining and came over and said she thought the bill was too high, that she'd take a round of beers off for us. Even though she charged us for the correct number of beers, we didn't say anything because we were pissed about the apparent beer size scam. The new bill being $21 less, KH and I gave MF cash, and MF offered up her credit card to get charged.
When the waitress returned with the receipt, MF found that she had been mistakenly charged much, much less than she should have. Whether it was moral or not for us to zipper the lips, sign the receipt, grab our bags, and go, it was the waitress's mistake, and we had had a bad experience. So that's exactly what we did, and I, for one, have no guilt here.
All in all we probably won out - in the end paying much less than we should have. However, the quality of food, beer, and service we received was completely unequal to the original amount on that bill, so we all agreed we would not revisit Beer Bar. We much prefer the happy hour deals and simultaneously escaping the horrors of midtown at Rue B - an adorable Parisian L.E.S. work favorite that offers $5 2-for-one beer and wine from 4-8pm, 7 days a week, and MUCH better food too. But a review for Rue B will come soon ... probably after our next happy hour that is spent there instead of the headachy Beer Bar.
Gobble Grade: C
Guzzle Grade: C-
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