The Taste of Disappointment – Expectations Burnt by Reality

If you had to describe what disappointment tasted like, what would it be? Mine tastes like chewy lamb on a bed of lumpy mashed potato with a sauce that leaves no lasting taste in your mouth. The lack lustre flavour of disappointment is accompanied by a rumbling belly as the portion of my disappointment was not commensurate to the price I paid.

The reason I ask? Well, I ticked off a bucket list item today. Only, it left me with the above sensation of disappointment and made me question the appetite of my expectations and values.

What does your bucket list look like?

Mine is full to the brim of experiences and the associated expectations of enjoyment, delight and fulfilment that I expect ticking off an item on the bucket list would entail. My list looks a little like that drawer in the kitchen with all the ‘stuff’ that ends up accumulating until it is ‘ticked off’ as useful or finds a better place to be. It is a list of organised chaos, where I can seize the opportunity to tick something off at any given time. So, while there may be a wild array of bucket list items, that don’t necessarily belong together in one place, they are handy to reach for.

Today was the day I reached into that ‘stuff’ draw and pulled out one of my bucket list items. I was literally looking for a passport photo for my visa to China in the ‘stuff’ drawer (because that’s the most appropriate place that leftover passport photos would be, right?!) and needed to make a trip to the big smoke. So why not make the most of the opportunity and treat my mum and sister to lunch?! At this stage, I’m feeling carefree, spontaneous, clever and pretty chuffed with myself that I could do this for them. It wasn’t just any lunch, it was one of our shared bucket list lunch destinations. Yes, my bucket list has an array of both menial and extravagant things on it. Doesn’t yours?

So, I was feeling the good karma Bondi vibe and scored a park right outside Icebergs Dining Room, the place I had reserved for lunch and soon to be ‘ticked off’ the bucket list. Now, for educational purposes, this is not to be confused with the Bondi Icebergs Bistro – which is the menu I had studied (and already chosen) my lunch prior to even making the booking. It is the next doorway along. Same location. Same famous view. Very different price point. Here in lies the first of my errors in expectations.

Anticipation builds an appetite

We arrive on time and are ushered to the bar while the final set up of the dining room is taking place. Which kind of surprises me as there is no breakfast service and they go with the ‘minimal’ look. That is, there is no cutlery already set, no bread and butter plates and no centerpiece for the table. Hmmmm, are my expectations getting a little frothy at this point?

Now, it should be acknowledged that I am notoriously a tight-arse. However, tight-arsed-ness is not to be confused with a lack of generosity and this was my shout, so I suggest we all get a glass of wine at the bar while we wait. The $12/ glass wine that is poured from a less than $20 bottle into a reasonable sized glass. Now, I didn’t bring my measuring cups with me, but the wine fails to fill even a quarter of the glass size. Again, am I expecting too much to have a regular serve of wine for my $12 or should I change my attitude to the glass is a quarter full?

We were soon shown to our table by a waitress dressed in an oompah Loompa-esk style outfit. At first, I thought it was a patron, until I realised all the Bondi backpacker European staff were wearing the most unflattering orange uniform I had ever seen.  I wish I had taken a photo. I must admit, this gave me great fodder to share with my family. Who doesn’t like to make fun of fancy dress!?

Expectations can be mashed, overcooked, underfed and served to you on an oversized plate by reality

I was thinking that you can only truly be disappointed if you have unrealistic or overly high expectations. I didn’t realise I had so many expectations of a meal; a restaurant; an experience. In fact, when I reviewed my expectations, I don’t believe they were high or unrealistic. I had three expectations:

1. Expectation: Good food at a reasonable price

I knew it would be pricier than regular restaurants, but my expectation was that the food and service was proportionate to the inflated price. Is this unrealistic? This is where my taste of disappointment started to feel like heart burn. On a positive note, I really love a simple menu that is not complicated by choice. I often simmer with indecision which eventually boils to complete food envy (of other people’s meals) when it comes to ordering, so I was pleased there weren’t too many selections that appealed to me.

We mulled over the menu, each making selections and discussing our pick, so as not to break the unspoken rule that it is forbidden to have the same meal. That would just be pure dining blasphemy! When the waitress asks suggestively about which sides I was choosing, the clanking of dinner service bells go off in my head. I confirm that my meal comes with potato and decide against the extra cost. And, yes, that is exactly how I affirm to myself I don’t need sides. Surely my $52 lamb and potatoes meal will be enough to satisfy my appetite?*

*special note – well, surely it would be enough to satisfy a normal persons appetite, which is what I was aiming for today, as my appetite is more along the lines of an elephant! 

Mum chooses the spatchcock and Katie the spinach spaghetti with lamb, opting for the entrée size. Quite obviously her eating habits are a little different to mine!

Our food arrives reasonably promptly, which I always appreciate as my salivating process starts from the point of reading the menu, so it becomes awkward to chat with drool emanating from me. Mine arrives first and my reaction is similar to that of slamming my finger in the bucket list ‘stuff’ drawer.

My mum smiles meekly, holding back a snort, and later tells me that her first thought was “oh no, Kylie is going to be hungry!”. I look up to see both mum and Katie smirking at me and ask “Where is the rest?”. Katie replies, “oh, I think I got the other half of your lamb in my dish”.

Serioulsy? I had three small cubes of overcooked lamb (half of one cube was fatty gristle) on a bed of mashed potato that, in entirety, would have fitted in the palm of my hand. At this point my expectations are beyond burnt, they are scraps. We decided mum’s spatchcock was an ode to my dad having breast cancer and subsequent mastectomy as there was only half a breast. And the poor bird must have lost its legs during its battle, as there didn’t appear to be a great deal of thigh meat either. Katie’s entrée serve of pasta with lamb was the biggest meal at our table, but the other half of lamb she joked was mine, was mainly morsels of fat and discreetly made their way back to the plate.

2. Expectation: Personalised service that makes me feel welcome and special 

The staff were friendly enough, but I’ve had enough fine dining experiences to know there were a lot of snags in this service. Good fine dining service staff should be like friendly ghosts. They appear when you need them and they are not scary or hover around making you feel uncomfortable. Maybe the staff need to watch some re-runs of Casper the friendly ghost?

Before receiving our meal, we had three generous crusty bread rolls with oil and salt placed on the table. We all stared longingly at it with our tummy’s rumbling awaiting the bread and butter plates. We did the obligatory ‘cheers’ and waited some more. With no arrival of plates or bread knives we threw etiquette into the deep blue sea beyond and ripped our rolls apart, dunked them lavishly in oil, sprinkled them with salt and left a mess on the linen table cloth in doing so. There was a massacre of crumbs and splatters of oil. We pushed the crumbs slightly to the side, but the remnants remained for our entire meal, with the destroyed remains only to be cleared by the waiter after we had asked for the bill.

3. Expectation: Ambience, ambience, ambience (I say this with my poshest voice)

Am I taking hard shots when I should be elegantly sipping in the ambience? Is that what my $172 meal is paying for? I know life is what you make it and all that jazz but speaking of jazz …there wasn’t any music. Eating is a sensory experience. All of the senses should be served in a fine dining experience, and not just with food. The view was a delicious nourishment in itself, but we enjoyed the same view with a takeaway coffee 100m down the road.

I do love the platter of customers that this place afforded. You certainly couldn’t say it housed a cookie cutter stereotype. There was a young couple directly off the beach who shared the fish of the day, to my utter salivating jealousy, as it looked more filling than my meal. The Asian couple who swapped seats about six times, with the man playing perfect insta-husband and taking a million photos from every angle. There was a loud, older woman who appeared to be on a date, which I predicted won’t successfully pan out for her, given she didn’t allow the fella to get a word in, even with her mouth full. Then there were the funky young gents who took a table on the balcony and again I felt a punch in the guts as I saw their hearty meals of overstuffed burgers swiftly ferried to them. Why hadn’t we seen this menu? Ahh, it was the bar menu. Again, rookie error on my part.

In fact, if it wasn’t for the mixed grill of other customers, there would be a feeling of, well um, a feeling of not much at all.

So, am I being too top-shelf with my expectations?

Maybe. Perhaps I have built it up to be more filling, in every sense of my expectations, than what I should have. It makes me question though, who frequents this, or similar, places? Are their expectations met? I think if I peel away the layers of expectation it really comes down to value. I truly valued the time with my mum and sister. This shared experience is like food that repeats on you, the immediate indulgence is probably not worth the burn. But, we have already laughed so many times and will continue to for years to come. I valued that I could be the one to provide us with the means to tick this experience off our bucket list.

But while I’m peeling away the expectations, I don’t value being ripped off. The food was not spectacular. The meals and drinks are not worth their menu price. Appetite and hunger can be very different things. I had an appetite for fine dining, with all that is associated with that. I was willing to pay the price for fulfillment. But the truth is I was left hungry, in more ways than one.

I think it is pretty obvious that I will never patronize the Icebergs Dining Room again. So, while I started by asking what disappointment tastes like, I think that the true answer is that it is really a feeling of hunger. You are left wanting to appease your appetite with more than what you got.

xk

ps. This is my honest opinion based on experience. If you have a different one, please share in the comments below! If you think I’m being too critical, try it for yourself…but not at my recommendation!

What’s on your bucket list?

Would you willingly pay $52 for a meal smaller than the palm of your hand?