Among the many, many things we miss about LA, dining options would probably be at the top of the list. In particular, we long for good Italian food. Hell, we'd settle for "decent" at this point.
About a year ago I thought I had a great lead. A woman I worked for decided to treat her small staff to a holiday luncheon and since I'd done a lot of work for her she extended the invitation to me. It was at "the best Italian restaurant in Bakersfield" she said, and I had no reason to doubt her. In a town where people consider themselves "world travelers" once they've ridden "It's a Small World", she seemed to be the real deal - a well traveled woman who been to Italy in just the past year (or so she claimed).
The restaurant is a Bako institution and been around for close to 100 years. It's in a seedy part of downtown (OK, "seedier" -the whole place is scary). They don't take reservations, so when we met there the line was out the door and down the block. I figured it must be great with this kind of a crowd.
We patiently waited our turn and finally were seated after an hour. I was prepared to be dazzled.
It was atrocious.
Undercooked pasta smothered in what appeared to be ketchup. The only thing they seemed concerned with was turning the tables. The check was delivered with the entrees and as they hovered about you definitely got the impression the meter was running.
Scratch that off the list.
So for the past year the boyfriend and I would query anyone we met - "Hey, do you know of a good Italian restaurant?" And the answer was the same no matter who we asked...
Olive Garden.
Oh dear God no. I've seen the TV spots, luscious closeups of poor defenseless pasta drowning in what appears to be Elmer's glue. There was no way.
But things in Bako have a way of just wearing you down, and after several months we decided "how bad could it be?" We dropped by around 7pm and discovered a crowd spilling out the door and a 60 minute wait. You have GOT to be kidding. We passed.
A few more months passed and we gave it another go, this time driving up around 6pm to discover a 90 minute wait. We always forget we live on "farmer time" now, and the dinner rush here starts before 5. We bailed.
But yesterday we were out running errands all day. We'd only had a sweet roll for breakfast and had skipped lunch. Around 4pm we found ourselves starving and the boyfriend uttered the regretful suggestion...
"How about Olive Garden?"
At 4pm you'd think there would be no wait, but you'd be wrong. It was a 20 minute wait and we figured what the hell. We were told we could wait in the "lounge" - a tiled corner of the lobby with all the charm of a men's room. It had a small bar that looked like it belonged in someone's basement rec room. We sat at the bar, deciding we were going to need some alcohol to get through this. The bartender ignored us for ten minutes and started throwing attitude. I just wanted to slap him and remind him he didn't work at Skybar - it was a fucking Olive Garden. In fucking Bakersfield.
We were finally shown to our table and seated between some ex-convicts and a family with toddlers. We were served our "endless" breadsticks, which were so doughy I'm not sure they had actually been baked. We ordered some entrees (stuffed chicken for me, lasagna for the boyfriend) and when it arrived it actually didn't look half bad. And then we ate some.
How is it possible to cook something with no taste?
"Excuse me, waitress, can we send this back and have them add some flavor?"
After two bites we both felt like we were eating a cardboard box and I found myself mentally running through the contents of our pantry to figure out what we had to eat at the house.
How do you say "never again" in Italian? Ah yes... "mai più!"
Well one thing is certain. We've finally discovered where to find the best Italian food in Bakersfield... the frozen aisle at the supermarket.
