Which is why it's a shame that we sat for ten minutes without anyone saying a word to us. No hello from a waiter, no water and bread from a bus boy, not even a second glance from the hostess who seated us. Just when my husband was pulling out his cell phone to look for another restaurant, our waiter arrived.
We quickly put in an order for martinis and escargot. The drinks and appetizer were all $9 apiece, but since we got our order in and actually received our drinks several minutes before happy hour was supposed to end, we figured it didn't matter. The escargot was served with lemon and garlic butter, topped off with spinach with gouda and puff pastry. The dish never really came together for us; it seemed like it was two very good dishes (spinach dip, and snails in butter sauce) stacked on top of each other. Either would have been great on its own, but in putting them together, each lost something. Still pretty to look at though:
Dinner was less impressive. I ordered the lobster enchiladas. This is what I received:
Ugh. Where do I start? White rice? Chewy, overcooked lobster? Half of an avocado slapped unnecessarily on top? No, no, no. This meal cost $23.75. It was worth about $7. I've had better food, served quicker and for less money, at Ninfa's. My husband reported that his steak was not much better.
I don't know what possessed us to order dessert after a meal like that, but I'm glad we did. The creme brulee was actually very well done. Did it make eating at Sambuca worth it? No. But wait, it gets better...
When our waiter (finally) showed back up with our bill, the drinks and appetizers we ordered and received before the end of happy hour were full price. Apparently, at Sambuca, you have to PAY before 6:30 in order to receive the special price, or something. We didn't have time to argue. At this point, we already had to run to make our play -- which, for the record, was wonderful. So after a very full friday evening, my final message comes down to this: Go to the Hobby Center. Don't go to Sambuca. The end.
