New York Post columnist Steve Cuozzo went in on the Upper West Side's Purple Fig, giving it zero stars following a recent visit. He's how Cuozzo felt:
“Do I know you from Aquavit?” a manager butted in. “No? From Tocqueville? No? Do you live in the area?” Was I being spotted as a critic — or propositioned?
Vanilla panna cotta that failed to set arrived near-liquid. Espresso duck-egg creme brulee with raspberries was as grim as it sounded. It moreover lacked raspberries. “The ones that came in were very acidic, so our chef decided not to use them,” was the explanation.
“Our credit card machine is down,” the waiter apologized at the bitter end. “But there’s an ATM across the street.
Well, there you have it. Some may have very different experiences at The Purple Fig, but could they write reviews as entertaining as Cuozzo's? Read the full thing here.