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The Nicest Horrible Cafe in Cambridge
Jun. 27th, 2008 11:16 amEveryone in my office building waited excitedly for the new cafe to open on the ground floor. We were tired of shlepping several blocks to Au Bon, or the comically over-priced Zigo, or the junk food at Dunkin Donuts. It took a month longer than expected for them to secure proper licensing, but open it eventually did.
"Oooh, how nice!" I exclaimed upon first entry. And it is nice, to look at. Everything is immaculately clean. It is roomy in a way that is rare for Cambridge eateries, and the lighting and displays of upscale snacks are attractive. The polite staff looks sharp in their stylish uniforms. Too bad that's where the pluses end.
That first visit, which was their opening day, I thought maybe they were still getting their act together and didn't fault then for the vile wrapped breakfast sandwich I grabbed from under the heat lamp. It was dry throughout, the sausage patty little more than brown crust and grizzle. Still, I forgave. They were just starting up.
No more heat lamp food, I decided was the solution. Next day I ordered 2 eggs scrambled from the grill cook, and was horrified to see her splash a soup ladleful of grease onto the frying grill. Into the puddle went my eggs, stirred around so the grease formed pockets in the cooked egg. When I slid it onto a bagel, there was a trench of yellow oil in the styrofoam container. I should have stopped going that day, but inexplicably didn't.
Want to know how to fuck up a grilled cheese sandwich? Go to Cafe on Main. They'll show you how, with a single slice of American cheese cowering half-melted between two slices of gummy whole wheat Wonder Bread, squashed momentarily on the grill but not, in any real sense, cooked. That one was worthy of a blog post of its own.
The salad bar, then. Huh, not much of a selection, but the basics that I must have in a salad were there. Boring, I thought, but how bad can it be? As bad as the first olive I put in my mouth, which was OMG spoiled.
Our building manager gave me a $5 coupon to the cafe, and I rationalized that things do taste better when they're free. I glanced at the dried-up mac & cheese, the leathery heat lamp pizza curling up at the end, and opted to get a made-to-order sandwich. I watched while the man ahead of me had a sandwich of green-edged roast beef assembled on his 3rd choice of bread, the others being 86'd for the day. Because it was free thanks to the coupon, I ordered turkey and cheese.
That sandwich tasted like french kissing a dog with gingivitis. The soaking wet pressed turkey food product dampened the stale bun, which actually made it easier to bite into. I was hungry and it was late, so I pulled most of the "turkey" out and pretty much ate a damp bun with a slice of cheese in it.
I suppose you could patch together a lunch with the packaged snacks and drinks -- Terra Chips, Kashi breakfast bars, bottled green tea drinks. But it's back to Au Bon for me, with their reliably good soups and tasty baked goods. Their uniforms aren't as handsome, but someone there actually knows how to cook.
"Oooh, how nice!" I exclaimed upon first entry. And it is nice, to look at. Everything is immaculately clean. It is roomy in a way that is rare for Cambridge eateries, and the lighting and displays of upscale snacks are attractive. The polite staff looks sharp in their stylish uniforms. Too bad that's where the pluses end.
That first visit, which was their opening day, I thought maybe they were still getting their act together and didn't fault then for the vile wrapped breakfast sandwich I grabbed from under the heat lamp. It was dry throughout, the sausage patty little more than brown crust and grizzle. Still, I forgave. They were just starting up.
No more heat lamp food, I decided was the solution. Next day I ordered 2 eggs scrambled from the grill cook, and was horrified to see her splash a soup ladleful of grease onto the frying grill. Into the puddle went my eggs, stirred around so the grease formed pockets in the cooked egg. When I slid it onto a bagel, there was a trench of yellow oil in the styrofoam container. I should have stopped going that day, but inexplicably didn't.
Want to know how to fuck up a grilled cheese sandwich? Go to Cafe on Main. They'll show you how, with a single slice of American cheese cowering half-melted between two slices of gummy whole wheat Wonder Bread, squashed momentarily on the grill but not, in any real sense, cooked. That one was worthy of a blog post of its own.
The salad bar, then. Huh, not much of a selection, but the basics that I must have in a salad were there. Boring, I thought, but how bad can it be? As bad as the first olive I put in my mouth, which was OMG spoiled.
Our building manager gave me a $5 coupon to the cafe, and I rationalized that things do taste better when they're free. I glanced at the dried-up mac & cheese, the leathery heat lamp pizza curling up at the end, and opted to get a made-to-order sandwich. I watched while the man ahead of me had a sandwich of green-edged roast beef assembled on his 3rd choice of bread, the others being 86'd for the day. Because it was free thanks to the coupon, I ordered turkey and cheese.
That sandwich tasted like french kissing a dog with gingivitis. The soaking wet pressed turkey food product dampened the stale bun, which actually made it easier to bite into. I was hungry and it was late, so I pulled most of the "turkey" out and pretty much ate a damp bun with a slice of cheese in it.
I suppose you could patch together a lunch with the packaged snacks and drinks -- Terra Chips, Kashi breakfast bars, bottled green tea drinks. But it's back to Au Bon for me, with their reliably good soups and tasty baked goods. Their uniforms aren't as handsome, but someone there actually knows how to cook.