"I'd ask for more wishes!" would be the answer of the witty child confronted with this question.
Clever-sounding at first, the idea of an endless supply of wishes will only deplete their novelty with the passing of time. As a kid, I truly believed that the point of the story was not to unleash one's inner greed, but to acknowledge that all things carried sacrifices.
You cannot have your cake and eat it too. You ought to contemplate carefully and choose wisely.
Should my present self be granted three unconditional wishes, the most probable choices would be: health (amongst my family as well as myself), financial stability, and social stability (harmonic interrelationships).
I may have also wished to have never made the intrepid step into the chaos that was Wish (though not necessarily use up one wish to attain this).
For reasons why customers enter through an already tightly-seated patio area and towards the bar area before reaching any member of staff is beyond my comprehension. Neither can I fathom why a tiny slot was allotted to two dim single stall bathrooms with an absence of basic toiletries. It wasn't only the paper towels, tissues, and toilet paper that were missing - it was the ability to relieve oneself in a clean, comfortable environment. The waiting area was cramped, the door lock dysfunctional, and the stalls lined needlessly with begrimed pink tulle "curtains" and a rusty, horror film-esque mirror.
A peek into the vacant guy's stall to check for paper towels also informed me of the nonexistent toilet. Urinals are fine for quick business, but it was ridiculous to think that a proper plumbing system hadn't been installed for defecation possibilities.
Between the three possible seating locations (outside the washrooms, outside the bar, or in the makeshift patio), the third was the sole option that provided any shred of illumination. Partially enclosed and equipped with a rather flimsy door, the exposure also revealed whatever flaws, blemishes, defects, or hasty faults resided with it.
Stained cushions, peeling wooden frames, consolidated layers of dust bunnies, and grimy-looking sofa covers were amongst us. Flipping through a sticky menu was simply made worse with the discovery of heavily tarnished cloth napkins. (With food this pricey, one ought to think that management could afford bleach for these instances.)
My dining partner and I arrived a short while after opening hours, with a reservation for the first time slot. Given the initial emptiness of the diner, I had anticipated steady service and skillful time management. With the arrival of an unpredictable Friday lunch rush, our server's capabilities were put to the test.
A napkin basket of teeth-rupturing, burnt baguette slices and pungent hummus made an appearance shortly afterwards.
Much like any other experience, it started with delivery of our orders and a brief follow-up. However, as the crowds gathered around us and inside the so-called waiting area, major HP points were surrendered. The experience plummeted to rock bottom.
With the progression of time, his visits to our table become less frequent, his observations less attentive, and his actions less meticulous.
I had even overhead the table next to me point out his mistake of Pinot (Blanc) instead of Pinot Noir - and how could I not, when the ladies were literally within a foot of my belongings? He initially denied this claim, but it was apparent that his absentmindedness and inability to maintain composure under pressure was surfacing.
Shall I add that he somehow succeeded in submerging one of the receipts in the mini fountain and releasing an exasperated sigh before refusing to recover it? Our water wasn't refilled either; I reached over to the condiment bar to uncap the slick bottle after being ignored for fifteen minutes.
It was all such a disapproving sight to witness.
The overall disorganization and lack of servers resulted in chaos, as well as staff members becoming forgetful and overlooking even the simplest of details. Noise pollution became tremendous once the restaurant reached full capacity, especially when the interior wasn't spacious to begin with.
Hers, a cherry and pomegranate liqueur-based cocktail, filled my dining partner's desire for alcohol. Though, it allegedly did not pair well with its candied ginger topping, which was only rendered acceptable for consumption after dunking in the flammable liquid.
I, originally having contemplated requesting a beverage, was ultimately thankful that I had abstained from this decision, partially due to the response I had just heard but primarily because of the expected speed of delivery (or rather, lack thereof)
Witnessing a sad, soggy croissant be placed before my eyes was a massive disappointment in itself, however things only went downhill from there. It just wasn't enough that the server had confused our sides (salad vs. fries) and just switched them in front of us with no glimmer of apology. Protein in the form of "shaved brined turkey breast" was underwhelming: reminiscent of week-old leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner, but positively bland and quaggy. No one had even bothered to trim the excess fat away. The team would have been better off with deli turkey, and I would have enjoyed it more too.
Apple relish was the highlight of the dish, which is quite depressing considering its supplementary role as a condiment/garnish. Soft, sweet diced apples added a pleasant punch, else the item wouldn't have been deemed edible for its price tag.
The kabocha squash that I had eagerly scoured the croissant for emerged in the form of a mashed potato-like paste. An over-seasoned purée bearing too many spices, the natural flavours and textures of vegetable had been masked to the max. Whatever expectations I originally had were shattered immensely. And of course, the fries were sodden and sodium-laden.
At the point of peak frustration, a ridiculous takeout bag was presented. Obnoxiously large plastic containers of insufficient height were shoved into a gigantic white paper bag and secured with a "Wish" sticker. There were no handles in sight. Their presence needlessly took up space in our hands and bags, making it frustrating to enjoy our stroll through Yorkville in peace. I persevered with my multiple carrying cases, but my friend soon lost patience and disposed of the leftovers altogether out of blatant annoyance.
Let's be honest: I really wish I hadn't been here.
Both featured slightly lava-like centres upon being reheated - a property not witnessed in the original formula. The enhanced flavour counterparts also constitute of a less viscous filling, evident by the way the cheesy centre doesn't contract and detach from its sides when chilled.
Uncle Tetsu BAKE is a powerful force to be reckoned with, though time will tell whether the renowned international franchise will be able to stand its ground with the coming of Pablo around the corner.