Yes, that's how fearsome the employees are.
I pretended to receive an emergency call from home just so I could leave. (May I be forced to eat there every day for a month if I'm exaggerating.) Are those gooey things shrimp or has there been an accident in the kitchen? Please, please do not stop here. The employees show up tableside with scowls to take drink orders (water, soda, Maalox) but first demand to see your receipt. They seemed frisky enough and clearly enjoying themselves on the scraps. Old and empty is the restaurant's mantra for supplying the buffet. A partial ice-scream scoop of clotted white rice sporting a blackish bib crust. Remember that spring role from earlier in the review? It was alone on that tray and now it's gone.
Soup tureens echo with the forlorn sound of three wonton noodle shards crying for their mates, hopelessly attempting to float in at least two inches of congealed brownish-yellow paste. No welcoming smile, no conversation (remember the headsets?) and no menu. You can't view the goods before you pay because you can't walk in without paying. I don't think they were relaying requests to replenish buffet items since I've never known a spring roll (in any language) to reduce someone to knee-slapping laughter. Touching lightly on that situation, we move into a restaurant where the entire staff is flitting hither and yon chatting into headsets. First Lesson of the Day: Never get restaurant recommendations from realtors who make you pay for their gas.
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