When I got to Bistro Bistro, I was immediately embarrassed for my presence at this establishment. It was a horrific experience, akin to only my worst dining nightmares.
Confession of a blogger: I did not do my homework on this one. I was on my iPhone a few months back, saw a Deals for Deeds two-for-one brunch deal, and clicked purchase. Had I only investigated via Yelp or a simple Google, I would have known better. So, having already purchased the brunch, I dragged boyfriend along with me. Hey, at least part of the money goes to charity (through Deals for Deeds).
The place was tacky—decorated with fake paintings from Bed, Bath and Beyond. Bad elevator music was playing. All the waiters (there were more waiters than diners) were standing around awkwardly, also looking embarrassed to be there. It was pitiful—I was concerned before I even sat down.
Upon approaching the buffet, it immediately became clear that it would be difficult to find something edible. Boyfriend went through the line opening and closing each hot serving dish one-by-one without putting anything on his plate. (I am never going to live this one down.) The eggs were dry and limp; the pancakes were hard and stale. The breakfast potatoes were horrible and definitely came from a frozen bag (how do you screw up potatoes?) I’m happy the bite of salmon I ate didn’t give me food poisoning. The lunch-time food—a marinara pasta and a vegetable medley—was edible.
It is possible the omelet and Belgian waffle station could produce something fit to be eaten, but of the dozen waiters standing around idly, not one was able to man the station for us.
So, I thought, I’ll have some fresh fruit. The main options at the fruit table were canned peaches and pears. (I’ve never eaten canned fruit in my life). The honeydew melon and cantaloupe were limp. Even the dessert table failed to produce something digestible, which is notable given my penchant for sugar.
We spent a total of 15 minutes there—throwing down the coupon and a tip (because I am nice and the waiters just looked so pitiful)—before heading to the Dupont Farmer’s Market around the corner to find some real food.
The Bitches Say: F-. I have no idea how this place is still in business. The horror.
1727 Connecticut Ave. N.W.
A note from beau: “The food was beyond terrible and the place was ugly. It was our fault for going to a buffet brunch. You should never have to pay for a buffet, because the only time you should ever eat from a buffet is at a workshop or conference for work, a school related event, a wedding (I guess), or in the military. Or on a cruise ship, but if you’re lame enough to be on a cruise ship in the first place, you’re probably excited to see a buffet and can’t wait to finish the Norwegian salmon so you can stuff your face with canned pears.”