people that YELP are scumbags

i found my college roommate's yelp profile and if i were to write a yelp review of her yelp reviews it would be a one-act play wherein i frequently begin statements with "uh," and leave her speechless and confronted with the full reality of her incompetence as a service provider

"oh, christine. i want to love your reviews of vegetarian restaurants and craft stores, but..."

just read a review of a bar that cmplained about drinks being "too strong."
kill all yelpers.

bye bye yelp, google places launched today for iphone.

so the owner of a business just threatened to sue the shit out of my friend for yelping that she had received a pizza pie COVERED IN HUMAN HAIR.

last time she eats at a combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell and First Choice Haircutters

Its kinda ridiculous how seriously some of these owners are taking Yelp. I'm loath to really take any side on the argument, but my cousin has been documenting a similar situation on her FB. Basically she put up a mildly negative review of a restaurant on Yelp and has since received three increasingly angry emails from the owner threatening her with legal action if she doesn't not only remove it, but replace it with a more flattering review. The whole thing is sadly hilarious.

i don't even... i've posted terrible reviews before, but i think they were always warranted.

The hilarious thing about the whole situation is that she pretty much enthused about the food, it was just that the hostess and server were both pretty rude during the course of the meal.

Do ppl really post Yelp reviews under their real names and emails?! I could only imagine actually doing this under the cover of anonymity...

I don't think she used her real name, but I'm guessing you have to tie your account to an email address somehow.

I'm happy to write up either a good response or bad response under my own name... it'll keep me from going off on a tangent of bile, I think.

7/24/2009

My friends and I have been talking about coming to this place for weeks now. Ground control to Major Tom: the Eric eagle (only because I drove) has finally landed! *tires Errrrp'ing* Walking in there throws you off a bit. Inside is dim and at a quick glance, by the decor, furniture and the way the partitions are set in the room, it looks like an Asian restaurant. No matter, my friends and I were finally ready to fulfill our destiny ala Los Chaparros.

Chips and salsa were standard. Not as spicy as others have made it out to be. If you want tasty and HOT, try Maria Bonita on Hotel Street. Out came the cream of corn and green chili soup. At best, it was not only very gritty (I had to suck the bits off my spoon in a form of a food fellatio) but just about flavorless. You can tell a lot of love goes into making it, with it's slow-cooked and soft texture. Though sorry guys, it was very bland.

Something else that poked my interest on their menu was their Jalapeno BBQ Torta. Whats that? Their version is a Mexican sandwich on French bread with red onions, deli veggies, cheese, mayo, your choice of meat all mixed in with their homemade Jalapeno BBQ sauce. Our waiter recommended I try it with their steak and so I did. It was finally time for 'din din! The food was decorated with Mexican flags on tooth picks. A nice touch...but did it savor the flavor?

Steak: tasty. Bread: very soft and crunchy. This was my first few bites but as I got my mouth more in motion, no thanks! Chaparros' Jalapeno BBQ tasted like a thick, spicy Asian sweet and sour sauce = Not Good. The fresh chunks of raw jalapeno might be overwhelming to some but it's a good thing I've already built a tolerance for "hot". I used to abuse my body with shots of chili pepper water and raw habaneros with the guys at work.

In the end, did I like the Los Chaparros product? Negatory.

Our server came back to check up on us and to talk about their Torta. He says it's gotten a very good response from their patrons. I could even feel the eyes of their staff digging as I dug into my Mexi hoagie. I describe this experience (though not the best example & in fact 2nd reference) like having oral sex with someone with very bad hygiene. You know they're watching you eat and with your best poker face, you're only "MMM!" acting. The very second they look away, you squiggle your nose and spit out those nasty bits and juices that shouldn't be there in the first place.

About $11 for the Torta and small soup.
Food was not my favorite but at least our server was very friendly and helpful.

http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kOthKLSZJzM/TECUqr8KqWI/AAAAAAAACMQ/IgW9O2tlo4w/s1600/pumpkin_barf.jpg

negatory

so the owner of a business just threatened to sue the shit out of my friend for yelping that she had received a pizza pie COVERED IN HUMAN HAIR.

― they call him (remy bean), Monday, 17 January 2011 15:45

maybe she should've just ordered pepperoni

tips from the pr0s

poked my interest

review for Hoosier Mama Pie Company:

(Somewhere down in southern Indiana, some time in the 18th century. A man, tired and unshaven is holding a gun in his rustic hut. He's not in a good mood: he has been on a strict diet of beans and squirrel jerky for the last two months and is beginning to lose faith in humanity. All of a sudden he hears a noise coming from the outside.)

(yelling and freaking out): "Hoosier?!?!?"

(the interlocutor): ?!?!?!?!?!?!?
"What's that son?!?"

(the Indiana dude, pacing back and forth in front of his door, unsure about what to do and a bit annoyed) : " I say HOOSIER?!? Speak or I shoot ya godammit!"

(the new comer, still unsure): "Ummmm.....tis me, your mama. I have a pie fo'ya, freshly cooked just fo' ya"

And it all ended in a touching reunion between a wild son and his beloved mama whose daughter decided one day to make it to the city and opened a pie store called "Hoosier".

Or something like that.

Folklore aside, this mama is pretty serious with her pies. I finally entered the store after 7 months of living 3 blocks away, afraid of making the first step and fall to hopeless addiction.
I caved in and agreed to lose my soul, which is not a big price to say when you have already lost your slender silhouette.

For $7 you can get a "pie flight", 3 samples of the most delicious pies you will ever encounter. There are about a small dozen to choose from; I opted for:
- coconut cream
- chocolate chess
- pear
The pear was surprisingly enough my favorite but I was delighted by every single mouthful of crusty/melty pie-ness. The crust is perfect, the filling - rich and flavorful. $5 will give you a full slice with a cup of coffee. And the big ones are between $25 and $30.
Not that bad when one thinks of the quality of the ingredients, and the time spent slaving over the oven.

Good to know: the Pacer mama also has savory options. Check out their pork/apple/sage pies as well as their shepherd mini-pies. And invite me for the feast.

oh my god

This is the most overrated restaurant I've ever visited. I am a few hours removed from dinner there with my good friend Kenichi and Mrs. R, and I am so flabbergasted that I cannot sleep without getting this venom out.

Let me preface this review by saying that Taro has topped best-of lists on Yelp and Chowhound for as long as Google can see, and I have gotten countless recommendations from people around the neighborhood. I once thought that NYC had a fairly progressive sushi culture, but I now realize that even in our wonderful metropolis most sushigoers still order shrimp tenpura rolls and tuna/yellowtail/salmon.

First of all, the praise for the authenticity of this place as a "Japanese operation" is totally unwarranted: the owner/itamae-san and his number two are Japanese, but the rest of the line and the entire waitstaff are Chinese, specifically Fukien. I am no racist, but when you lack the knowledge gained from growing up in sushi's motherland, you need to put in some work. The staff here clearly has not.

Our entrance met no irasshaimase, no oshibori. So much for Brooklyn's most authentic sushiya. Kenichi smiled uncomfortably as his request for ocha met bemusement, and I pantomimed no avail as I inquired about pressed sushi/oshizushi/hakozushi. I looked at our menu to see that ankimo is apparently available here year round, which should have been enough to get us walking, honestly. Third guy on the line stood behind the counter on his cell phone arguing in Chinese for literally our entire meal.

The toro tataki was buttery, up to snuff and an ample portion for the pricetag. The kinpira must have come from a bag, lacking crunch and inexplicably matchsticked. The age tofu Mrs. R ordered was fine, but there's really no way to fuck up deep-frying in a fryolator.

Onto the nigiri. The ebodai and toro were passable in an otherwise disappointing dinner. The botan ebi was awful, mealy and flabby. Its head was nowhere to be found, and it emerged from the counter filleted and de-shelled, presumably bought that way. The saba was similarly subpar, clearly slow frozen and having lost all the oil and shine that makes saba so good. Amadai, iwashi, anago all mediocre. Big ups to house-made tamago in an age of premade sheets, but minus points for overcooking it to the point of turning green. Thankfully the tataki was just as good the second time around in maki form.

Regarding the chef's proficiency, he is lacking. The nigiri are simply too big (catering to the locals I suppose). The neta were huge and floppy, practically falling off the rice. Likewise the amount of rice is obscene, squeezed tight and more onigiri than nigiri. The soy sauce he stocks is cheap, light, unaged. His line is disorganized, overwhelmed with not a dozen patrons sitting down. Three times during our meal did I have servers over my shoulder handing geta back due to mistakes. Reviewers citing the itamae-san here as "approaching Yasuda" or "almost Ushiwakamaru" are out of their fucking minds.

Service was icing on the cake. The waitstaff took ten minutes to ask us for our order, then refused to clear our appetizer plates even after our sushi was dropped. I ordered a few more pieces at last call, and as the chef handed them to me a waitress walked over with our check, explaining in broken English: "You can pay now? We count the money now." All well before 10:30.

To everyone gushing about how authentic this place is, ask yourself how often you see expats here. Don't fool yourself into thinking you are getting elite product at midrange prices. 130+ reviewers who all think this place is their little secret? There is a reason this place isn't populated, and it has nothing to do with being under the radar.

Five star reviewers, do yourself a favor and skip your next few dinners here. Take that coin, catch a train to Manhattan and treat yourself to an education.

"ben r." gave it two stars, by the way

I am a few hours removed from dinner there with my good friend Kenichi and Mrs. R, and I am so flabbergasted that I cannot sleep without getting this venom out.

love this sentence

Our entrance met no irasshaimase, no oshibori.

reviews of sushi restaurants bring out the worst in yelpers

shasta?

jesus christ. what is it about food/restaurant snobs that makes them infinitely more awful than any other variety of snob?

Reviewers citing the itamae-san here as "approaching Yasuda" or "almost Ushiwakamaru" are out of their fucking minds.

this is a good one

Mariam S.

Orchard Beach, MD
1 star rating
2/8/2011

I have been coming to this restaurant since 2005 attempting to support fellow Salvadorians and since then the prices have tripled. Just recently I took my son there. There were 2 other customers inside of the "VERY NICE LOOKING" restaurant with many of workers on the inside. The UNFRIENDLY waitress finally took our order and my son ordered the ribs. After waiting 10 minutes (remind you that it was only 4 customers on the inside / don't know why it took so long) the waitress comes back and says we don't have any ribs (even though they were on the menu). So my son had to change his mind to BBQ chicken and french fries. AFTER WAITING 30 -- 35 MINUTES AND WATCHING THE WAITRESS LOOK AT ONE OF MANY FLAT SCREENS TVS AGAINST THE WALL I HAD TO ASK WHERE OUR FOOD WAS. WITH AN ATTITUDE she says I don't know what the cook do back there! Finally our food was ready and when my son ate his fries THEY WERE COLD like they had been sitting for a while! IT TOOK HER 25 MINUTES TO ASK IF WE NEEDED ANYTHING and that was after ANOTHER WAITRESS RAN THE VACUUM CLEANER WHILE WE WERE EATING and that was at 5:00 in the afternoon. I asked for a refill no my co and with another attitude she say we don't refill coffees. When she brought me my check the cost was ridiculous! She charged me separate prices for everything instead of making it a meal. And on top of that SHE HAD THE NERVE TO INCLUDE HER TIP ON MY CHECK! I say let me speak to your manager, supervisor or owner. She says they are not here and STARTS SCREAMING AT ME IN LATINA. You know this is the 3rd time that I have had to deal with a NASTY WAITRESS here. Each time it is someone different. They should be glad that I paid the bill and not just walk out on them. THIS WILL DEFINITELY BE MY LAST TIME GOING HERE. NEVER AGAIN!!! Next time I would rather just eat at home than to deal with people who don't want to do their job!

I am no racist

from another review of same salvadoran restaurant:

Do yourself a favor, If you ever find yourself in Baltimore do not try to get Mexican Food.

El Trovador was simply El No Edible.

zing

lol display name

shasta?

― gr8080, Saturday, February 19, 2011 4:13 PM (2 hours ago)

pffft, like i would venture that far down-market. should i point out the errors in that dude's review or is that way too far into the abyss?

**goes out to French-California restaurant with 3 Japanese people**

never change

http://eater.com/archives/2011/03/22/yelp-scolds-elite-yelpers-for-degenerate-feeding-frenzies.php

this thread continues to be deeply satisfying.

i like how the yelp 'team' writes like the yelp members:

Now, you might be saying to yourself, "Self, the event last night (as well as some others in the past) was overcrowded, and THAT is why the food did not reach everyone." And although Club A Steakhouse brought out a delicious and bountiful spread of steak, salmon, rack of lamb, mashed potatoes, creamed spinach, crabcakes and more, you would be partially right.

disgusting

savages

why the fuck don't they cap attendance at these things?

yelp remains at the top of the opinions4u pecking order

haha having worked alongside catering planners for years i can sympathize

the saddest is the science conferences when the broke-ass grad students who maybe actually havent had a decent meal in weeks are fully taking advantage of the free hors d'oeuvres :(

STARTS SCREAMING AT ME IN LATINA
STARTS SCREAMING AT ME IN LATINA
STARTS SCREAMING AT ME IN LATINA
STARTS SCREAMING AT ME IN LATINA
STARTS SCREAMING AT ME IN LATINA
STARTS SCREAMING AT ME IN LATINA

i like how the yelp 'team' writes like the yelp members:

lol, i said this to myself!

Jack C.

Chi is Here
Berkeley, CA

3/26/2011 I'm dating this black chick now and we rolled into L.A.

"Imma get myself some waffles and fried chicken" - she says

"saaay waat gurl?" - I said in shock since I've never heard of that combination

"ohh yea, you never heard of Roscoe's chicken?" - she says in wide-eyed surprise

"ehh...no. Why don't we get ramen? It's healthier" - I said condescendingly.

"We always get Asian, let's get soul food. Roscoe's chicken is like a national treasure kinda like Niagara Falls or the Washington monument.

So we went, we had a fantastic time!

All I have to say is - I love dark meat, especially thighs!

Scott K.

Psssst, hey.... Hey, Scott..... no, no, no.... down here!

Yeah, it's me, your cock. Your schlong. Your prick. The porktube. Whatever you're calling me these days. How you doing up there? Look, uhh, you got a minute?

Good. How come you haven't been to the Good Luck Bar lately? Scott, you remember the Good Luck Bar. Not that I was eavesdropping, but I heard you tell that one girl this place was one of your favorite local dives. I mean, granted, it was a little hard to hear everything from down here, but I was wide awake - hell, I perked up as soon as I heard her say she was born in Korea or someplace. So I know what you said, okay? And there's usually some decent-looking women in this place, right? Of course, I can't actually see 'em. All I really have to go by are voices. I mean, you keep me like fucking Stevie Wonder in a dark basement down here -- the least you could do is give me the occasional open fly to work with. You know? Just give a brother a peek sometime - just a peek. That's all I'm saying.

But I digress. From the sound of it, this place pulls more of a hipster/pseudo-rockabilly kind of crowd, right? Well, tats on a girl can work. (Hell, I never could get any sleep with you checking out that Suicide Girls site back in the day - you know, before they started letting any old saggy-tittied, inked-up butterface pose for them.)

Aside from that, some cute Latinas usually manage to show up at the Good Luck, am I right? Some Latinas, some Asians? That's what it sounds like. If nothing else, there's always a nice tawdry blonde for you to make eyes at from across the bar, isn't there? Hell, just the atmosphere at the Good Luck perks me up. Have you noticed? The way you described that sleazy red lighting, the faux-Chinese decor. I could almost feel it through your Fruit of the Looms. Such a way with words you got there.

And those fruity mixed drinks? Does the phrase "looks like a woman, wallops you like a man" ring a bell? One of those Tokyo teas, or the Good Luck house special, and I'm ready to stand up and recite the Alec Baldwin speech from "Glengarry Glen Ross", y'know what I mean?

And there's that nice couch area where you can sit back and relax. It gives me room to stretch, lets you look like a dude who halfway knows what he's doing for a few minutes - we both win. I mean, maybe the drinks are a tad strong - after that last time we were there, I got sick in front of your friend and ended up barfing all over the place, remember? What a mess. (Hey, wait... wasn't that the girl from Korea?)

Well, anyway, I don't wanna sound ungrateful here. I mean, you take pretty good care of me. You do. You wash me regularly, for starters. You don't keep me caged up in briefs, and hey - I appreciate the freedom to stretch out at will throughout the day, it's important. It keeps the blood flowing, and you definitely want the blood flowing down here. Aside from the smell of those damn condoms - and the fact that they suffocate me and leave me feeling like a goddamn holiday roast stewing in its own juices - I'd say I'm pretty happy with you. Couldn't ask for a better guy to be attached to, alright?

But take me back to the Good Luck. Soon. Otherwise, I'll wait until you pick up some fucking Miss Puerto Rico 2008-looking broad and I will flat out refuse to cooperate. That's right. You heard me. And you don't want that. I think you have an image to maintain, right? Stories to live up to? Something like that?

Do the right thing, Scott. Thanks.

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for some reason his cock has Burgess Meredith's voice when i hear it in my head

http://i.imgur.com/BJwVA.jpg

the sign, it is humorously large