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Comment Archives: Locations: Food and Drink: French: 1 Star

Re: “Sperry's Restaurant

Sperry's, what can I say.
Arrived early for a 5:30 dinner reservation, party of nine.
Seated and served water, wine for the table ordered.
Waiter comes back to the table to advise the grill was not working and they could only offer cold appetizers and prime rib.
Personally I could live with this but the 5:30 reservation should indicate to anyone in the industry that our party includes older patrons. Reservations made a week in advance should be given the common courtesy of a phone call. If you show up to fire the grill at 3PM to clean it and there is a problem, please have the decency to call the customer. It's simple common courtesy.
You'll never get the opportunity to disappoint me again.

1 like, 0 dislikes
Posted by John Wolfrom on 03/31/2014 at 10:47 PM

Re: “Sperry's Restaurant

Bar tender horrible. Treats you like crap unless your his friend. Humiliated me in front of customers as he made me give up my seat for his girlfriend and her friends.

Posted by Rich on 02/28/2014 at 9:38 PM

Re: “Sperry's Restaurant

I will never go back to Sperry's. I ordered lamb chops cooked med rare for my entree. When they arrived at my table, you could tell they were way overcooked just by looking at them. The bones were completely charred and when I cut into one, the meat was tough and completely grey. I sent them back and asked if they would make them rare to be sure they weren't overcooked. They brought brought back a terrible second attempt. They were pretty much just a little less cooked than the first. Also, there were about 10 extremely thin lamb chops completely covered in bread crumbs that seemed like an attempt to hide the terrible meat underneath, rather than 3-4 nice thick cuts that could be cooked perfectly.
I really hoped this was a fluke and that something was just off that night, but then for dessert we ordered a sunday (impossible to mess up a sunday, right?). The ice cream sunday was pre-made and had to have been sitting in the freezer for days. My girlfriend couldn't even shove a fork through the ice cream.
Easily the worst dining experience I have had since I have lived in Nashville, and probably the biggest waste of money i have spent while dining anywhere.

0 likes, 1 dislike
Posted by Aaron Wolfcale on 07/31/2012 at 4:15 AM

Re: “Miel

Very poor experience, when we arrived at 7 for our reservation we were ignored by the receptonist who kept her back to us while on the phone, finally an different empolyee asked to show us to a table right next to the only other people there. When we asked to be seated at a different table she kept repeating, "what does that mean?". After requesting four times in the most polite fashion, we never were able to communicate our request, somehow we never got the right answer to "what does that mean?".
However, she did note one of our party had a styrofoam cup with a tablespoon of Constant Comment tea left in it and took great offense even after it was thrown away.
We found an alternative restaurant in short order where we were well received.
Meil Resturant..suprising poor quality and worse communication skills, their rude behavior kept us from ever tasting their food. It may well expalin why the resturant was mainly empty at 7 on a Saturday night

1 like, 0 dislikes
Posted by Surpised patron on 02/05/2012 at 7:56 AM

Re: “Sperry's Restaurant

This is another one of those “first class” establishments in Nashville that no longer deserves its reputation, if it ever did. I have lived in Nashville for a number of years and whenever I heard of this restaurant, it was always in tones of hushed, almost whispered worship, like a prayer or wishing upon a star. My Italian friend, born and raised in Italy, and I ended up at this restaurant on Christmas. We had had a perfectly glorious mini repast at 1 808’s earlier (check out the reviews of this place. Genuinely superb!) earlier in the day but decided to see if all we’d heard about Sperry’s was true. The bread, assembled in a glue factory, stuffed with soggy cotton balls and then zapped in the microwave arrived within seconds of our being seated; the soft, cottony, gluey center scalding hot while the colorless crust remained tepid as road kill. It instantly became ballast in the mouth and created a choking hazard. I cannot fathom why my fellow Southerners, who in many ways invented American cooking, cling to this soulless incarnation of wheat and water. It’s everywhere. They should stick with cornbread. The French Onion soup, arrived like the Escargot, within mere seconds after placing our order, which should have been a tip off that no actual cooking was being done. It was so salty I was concerned I would need a blood pressure pill to get through it. The onions looked and tasted like strips of soaked cardboard, while a piece of the glue factory bread sogged, untoasted, over the salt mine below, and then the bland, blubbery cheese had been applied as one would apply mortar. The escargot, little black blood clots, entombed far longer in a tin can than living in a shell had the same musty dead scent of a mausoleum. They were dredged in bread crumbs in the vain hope of masking their flavor and then greased in cheap, tasteless margarine, or was it mineral oil? I’m convinced it wasn’t butter. Greenish, black flakes floated over the top of each cup in the pillivuyt The flakes, at one time in their history before being mixed into the can in which the escargot was embalmed, had been parsley. Or so it was presumed. We deduced that the bread crumbs were intended to pass for stuffing. The usual buttery earthiness of actual escargot was so badly deformed, the spirit of blue blood excess and culinary elitism signaled by its consumption so insulted and debased by this glop, that its only charming feature was that it was not served cold. We did not feel elevated up the social ladder afterward. We felt abused, lashed by the food chain. The salad. Salad bar. Even the vinaigrette was creamy, made with the same machine oil that was in the escargot. The greens were wet. Enough said. By the time the first bite of smoked salmon dip was dipped into, it was surprising that the Nashville Fire Department had not shown up following the scent of liquid smoke wafting through West Meade. It took my Italian companion three cups of canarino to remove the odor from her taste buds. The only thing that exceeded the liquid smoke in ratio to the canned salmon it had been poured over was the mayonnaise the whole concoction had been bathed in to make it spreadable. The bread, sliced Pepperidge Farm White Bread, cleverly cut on the diagonal, had some heft and tooth feel for sure, unfortunately, because it was stale. The reason for its outer crunch being it had been setting open on the kitchen counter since last night’s dinner. Staring at the dish, I kept thinking: Super Bowl, maybe it’s palatable with a keg of beer. Salmon Florentine with creamed spinach and, uhh, and, hmmm….mayonnaise hollandaise? The waiter, who was excellent in every way, had told me that the, cook, or did he say chef?, whatever, the cook liked to cook the Salmon medium well. My first inclination was to ask for just barely medium and boy was I glad I hadn’t! Frozen, with the mustiness of old salmon, the “well done” part saved the dish from perdition. The creamed spinach, was actually spinach (frozen) and gravy (from breakfast) mixed together into a mound over which the perfectly broiled filet reposed. I’m not certain what was in the ramekin that arrived on the plate. Was it mayonnaise or hollandaise? Lumpy, oily, the only part of the lemon it had seen was maybe the outside of one and butter had been nowhere near it. It resembled congealed pus more than buttery, lemony, silky hollandaise. The place was dirty. The dishes were dirty. I sent one bread plate back and the waitress brought me another dirty one. The silver is dull, scared and bent, the walls and ledges dusty, the salad bar kiosk looked like a health hazard. I can see why they keep the lights turned down. The place is stuffy, claustrophobic, with an old world club décor which to the regulars no doubt feels like a pair of comfortable shoes. As a newbie I had the sense of traipsing across over-worn, dank, sticky theatre carpet. We had no liquor and no dessert. I had a hot tea and my companion had only water. Our bill was almost $60. This is too shameful to endure. Caveat emptor.
Rating Detail:
Food: 1
Service: 5
Atmosphere: 1
Value: 1
Overall: 1

0 likes, 3 dislikes
Posted by Paolo on 12/26/2009 at 9:13 PM

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