Wild Grass

Wild Grass

Where:
Wild Grass (a functional website in HK – spoiler, shame the restaurant is fucked and you’ll never want to use this website ever)
1/F, 4-8 Arbuthnot Road
Central, Hong Kong

Phone:
+852 2810 1189

Price:
We got out for HKD585 a head + wine.  2 courses was HKD280.

The deal:
I hadn’t planned to go to Wild Grass.  I’d planned to attempt getting a table at Chachawan on a Friday night which as a hipster, no booking, hot restaurant of the moment requires a) a small group (less than 4) and b) getting to the restaurant immediately after it opens (6:30pm).  Somehow my intimate planned dinner of 3-4 people was ambushed by factors that spiralled out of control like an Australian bushfire into a dinner of EIGHT plus people not declaring they were ready til 7:30pm which meant that we had to abandon all hope of hipster, no booking restaurant and ended up at Wild Grass which was meant to be good.

BUT don’t be fooled by the glossy pictures on the website or the tagline “This is real food the way it should be – fresh, organic, ingredients prepared simply”, this was one truly fucking disappointing meal and service was awkward, slow and generally, fucked up. The menu touts that the bread is made on premises with organic flour from France – but I guess flying in your organic flour isn’t a magical panacea to make your bread anything more than average.  Ms Two Serves ordered the bone marrow and two bones appear, missing the second half of the joke – ie. the marrow.  She shoved her knife into the bones (which was too big to fit the hole) and desperately tried to extract some marrow to smear onto a piece of toast.  At a later point, when she brought the lack of marrow to the attention of the waiter he shrugged his shoulders and said ‘Well, you should have told me while you still had the bones because there’s nothing I can do now’.  Ok homes, that would have been my fucking response too if I was trying to ensure customer satisfaction.

BUT nothing can compare to the abject horror and anguish that the ribeye steak caused our table. Wild Grass’s website claims that its meat comes from “wild, organic cattle that roams freely, grazing on grass in over 7 million hectares of open pastures in the Australia Outback”.  It’s a shame that this cow spent its life beautiful and free only to be slaughtered into a pathetically fucked up thin cut  ribeye, neighboured by nine of the saddest potato fries I’ve seen.  SRS, HOW HARD IS IT TO FUCKING MAKE FRIES?! To add further insult to the steak, a pat of herb butter sits stubbornly on top of this organic atrocity, with no threat of the butter melting because the steak isn’t even fucking hot.

The waiter swings around and offers us the menu, giving us the option to continue to assault our senses with a dessert which I have no doubt was going to be mediocre.  We just shake our heads forlornly and ask for the bill.  I sign my credit card slip, internally debating whether to add “FU” after my signature – angry and disappointed that I’m paying so much for a meal that was so fundamentally fucked up.

My whole Friday night was a fucking disaster and I sit in the taxi home, reflecting on how bloated, emotional and depressed on how my night went so off the initial plan.  And then I thought of that cow which once majestically roamed the Australian outback who gave his life, to end up half eaten in a trashcan, smeared with cold herb butter and labelled an atrocity by the person for whom he gave his life for. Life is cruel.

The verdict:
FUCK NO.

1Comment
  • Chachawan | fuck yeah noms
    Posted at 21:42h, 23 April Reply

    […] at 8:00pm on a Friday night and ended up at ONE OF THE WORST “MEALS” I HAD IN 2013.  I STILL CARRY THOSE MENTAL SCARS AND I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU WILD GRASS.  Yeah, I’ll be real, that night is still emotional SHIT for […]

Fuck yeah or fuck no?

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