11's: Most Disappointing Meals of 2024
They can't all be winners...
It was a stormy night in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Swirling wind pushed around the branches of bare trees. Unrelenting rain poured down from the grey, gloomy skies. These conditions, unpleasant in most situations, were ideal when sheltered inside the four walls at Center For Yoga, blanketed by the heat of a ripping hot practice room.
My favorite teacher, Kara, led the evening’s fast-paced, free-flowing vinyasa class. Kara’s classes were always inspiring and impactful — unapologetically challenging and edgy, but softened with whimsical storytelling woven between postures. During class, Kara spoke on the importance of letting go of expectations, or at least, not fixating on them. Over-indexing on expectations is the root of disappointment and the negative emotions that come with it.
As a winding sun salutation letter C turned to restful savasana, we were left with this lasting message: “To move beyond expectation, you must focus on action, not outcome. You must accept reality for what it is, not what you want it to be.
Kara’s words stuck with me. With time and conscious effort, I’ve been able to sidestep expectations, live more in the moment, and carry an open-mindedness about my friendships, relationships, and life in general. Because who wants to be around a person who’s already decided how much or how little they’re going to enjoy something? It’s been a welcome perspective shift, and I genuinely believe I’m a happier person because of this mentality.
Despite my better efforts, I’ll admit there is one incredibly stubborn area of my life where I’ve found it particularly challenging to suppress my expectations: going out to dinner.
In most cases, before I’ve ever stepped foot inside a restaurant, I have a pretty good idea of what the place is all about. Food media enables this advanced judgment – reviews, press, photos, testimonials, and, of course, short-form vertical videos are hitting us from seemingly every direction, influencing the reservations we book and even the menu items we select. And with this pre-exposure comes an expectation for each restaurant – often framed as “Did it live up to the hype?”
While this access to information takes a bit of the magic and mystery out of dining, I’d argue it’s not all bad. Considering the opportunity cost that comes with each meal – time and money that could be spent at approximately 50,000 different restaurants in New York City alone — it’s wise to research and decide which spots have the highest likelihood of being great. But as Kara warned, when your expectations deviate from reality, disappointment is inevitable.
Today’s 11s is a retrospective of my most disappointing meals this year. Places I was genuinely excited about that let me down, majorly. This isn’t to say these are awful restaurants, they just didn’t come anywhere close to their billing, or my expectations.
I hope you enjoy Flood’s first foray into restaurant criticism. If a spot comes to mind — somewhere that really let you down — drop a note in the comments. Trust me, it feels good to get it off your chest.
11's: Most Disappointing Meals of 2024
11] Txikito Chelsea, New York
Tucked on a quiet strip of 9th Ave sits Txikito, a Basque restaurant, and a sneaky New York institution in operation since 2008. Since visiting San Sebastian, I’ve found myself thinking about the Basque food culture often – rustic, energetic rooms slinging pintxos and pouring crushable wine. Txikito’s not trying to be that – it's an upscale homage to the Basque region. But I found its sophistication outweighed any semblance of convivial energy – it was a dull experience. There were a few winner dishes — like thinly sliced octopus carpaccio, finished with a heavy pour of lemony olive oil — but for the most part, the food wasn’t memorable. What I do remember is that the dishes were painfully small for the price point. It felt like a never-ending hole of ordering (tripling up on bomba rice) to find satiety.
10] Defonte’s Red Hook, Brooklyn
I have previously noted my long-standing love for excellent Italian sandwiches. One purveyor of Italian specialties gets mentioned more than the rest: the legendary Defonte’s in Red Hook. Finding my way into the line at Defonte’s, surrounded by a crowd of burly Italians, it felt like I was in for something special — there was a collective excitement for sandwiches in the air. Inside, there’s energy, hustle, and the constant call of “cash only, have your cash out” from behind the counter. My sandwich — prosciutto, mozzarella, peppers, and fried eggplant – was unbelievably flat and flavorless. Excruciatingly dry in some spots, oil-soaked in others, and under-salted throughout. I went from feeling like I had reached the promised land to realizing it was all a mirage.
09] Strange Delight Fort Greene, Brooklyn
Behind a green-tiled facade and enticing window shutters is Strange Delight, a New Orleans-inspired seafood counter. The thought, effort, and attention to detail that went into the space is evident — it’s a lovely room to dine in. But the food — raw bar-centric with a few decadent fried additions — left a lot to be desired. Their most prominently featured item, the Fried Shrimp Loaf, was the biggest miss; cornmeal-crusted shrimp that couldn’t hold its breading, sandwiched between Japanese milk bread, shredded lettuce, and tomato — the latter two ingredients dominating the sandwich ratio. There were bright spots, like barbecued oysters and smoked fish dip. And because of that, I still think Strange Delight has utility — but it’s best for a snacky, raw bar-forward happy hour, not a full meal.
08] Safta Denver, Colorado
Denver’s food scene is perplexing. It’s a city that struggles to differentiate itself or establish much of a cultural identity but still has incredible gems across genres that garner praise on the main stage, Safta being one of them (see: Conde Nast Traveler, Michelin Guide). While not entirely fair to judge given the offering on a Sunday morning was a brunch buffet, Safta’s vibe was off. It’s a strange setting — just off the lobby of the Source Hotel, which felt more like a cafeteria than a high-end restaurant. The service was sporadic — at times overly formal, and at others painfully laid back. The Israeli-leaning food had flashes of brilliance, notably on the pastry side of the house, but most of the offerings were bland and unremarkable. Again, never fair to judge a buffet — but Safta didn’t give me enough to return for a proper dinner.
07] Little Grenjai Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn
The Thai-American spot in Bed-Stuy that’s credited with popularizing (viralizing?) the Thai “Krapow” smashburger was a letdown on all fronts. Walking in for an early dinner, I was greeted at the door with “If you’re here for the burger, we only serve it at lunch” and the hospitality remained short and cold throughout. Crispy rice salad landed first — tossed with toasted coconut, peanuts, sour fermented pork sausage, and lime dressing. A fine item, but served with a shockingly dry “thai arancini ball.” Holy basil pork and drunken noodles came next, both dripping in oil and lacking any prominent flavor profile — savoryness, spice, anything. I’m cool with fusiony Thai-American riffs (see: Thai Diner), but Little Grenjai struggled with the foundational components of dishes — noodles and sauces — which you need to have dialed if you seek to innovate.
06] Gertrude’s Prospect Heights, Brooklyn
Every time I’d walk down brownstone-lined Carlton Ave, regardless of the day or time, I’d peer through the windows into the dining room of Gertrude’s and think “Damn, that place is buzzing.” The corner spot in Prospect Heights has the makings of the perfect neighborhood restaurant, serving comforting Jewish-leaning bistro food. But Gertrude’s is… fine. Like through and through, just alright. It’s an enjoyable room to dine in, cozy and thoughtfully designed (although Robyn’s electropop beats blasting incessantly was certainly a choice). Nothing on this menu ended up being noteworthy besides the latkes with celery crème fraîche and trout roe, which were crisp, creamy, savory, and incredibly delicious. Gertrude’s isn’t a terrible option for an approachable neighborhood meal — especially one centered around fried potato pancakes — but it wasn’t the cozy neighborhood standby I hoped it’d be.
05] Ladder 4 Wine Bar Detroit, Michigan
I seem to fall into the The New York Times “Best Restaurants in America” trap every damn year. When I saw Ladder 4 representing Michigan in the article, it sprang to the top of my list of restaurants to try in Detroit (home for me). It’s an incredible space – a historic firehouse that’s been beautifully restored, maintaining many of the original elements and features like towering ceilings, gorgeous cream-colored tile, and massive arched windows. Yet the hospitality was wack from the start — seated 30 minutes late without apology, and generally rude and disengaged service throughout the night. Wine is a major focus here, and while I had a few glasses that really rocked, the servers were so pretentious and catty about things that it turned me off.
The menu looked promising — a globally ambiguous collection of interesting-sounding small plates featuring funky seasonal ingredients. But dish after dish, it was swings and misses. I respect a place taking creative risks, but it felt like Ladder 4 was flexing its ingredient literacy without knowing how to string them together. The price point was steep — especially for Detroit — mirroring (and at times exceeding) what you’d find at lauded New York wine bars like Four Horsemen.
04] Roman’s Fort Greene, Brooklyn
Listen, I dug deep, but unfortunately, the only nice thing I have to say about Fort Greene “darling” Roman’s is that they have a killer facade. Inside, everything about Roman’s felt tired and uninspired, almost insultingly so. The servers were going through the motions. The menu, already tight, had three items 86’d by 7:30 pm. She Wolf Bakery sourdough, a product of Roman’s kitchen (notably one of my favorite loaves of bread in this city), was served as one single, stale slice (and at a charge!). Both pastas sucked — broken, watery sauces. The chicken diavolo, a fan favorite, was overcooked and ran for $46 (for chicken!). Roman’s is charging Torrisi prices for shitty food and abysmal service, and that’s not ok. It was a brutal experience, I legitimately can’t believe this place has stood the test of time.
03] Eel Bar Lower East Side, New York
I’m a long-time lover and supporter of Cervo’s and everything it stands for. But damn, they’ve got some work to do up the street at Eel Bar. I loved the initial details — frosted, textured glass that lets just enough light into the retro bar room with mismatched fixtures and wavy edges. There’s a moodiness in the room that hits from the onset. However once acclimated, I found the space lacking warmth and missing a distinct personality. The same goes for the food. Cervo’s taught me that liberal usage of high-quality oil makes most things taste better. Eel Bar showed it can ruin nearly every dish. Stuffed piquillo peppers were a notable offender. The fried mussels were aesthetically pleasing, but flavor-wise it could have been anything hiding beneath the thick layer of breading. “Meatballs and Fries” is a contender for the worst dish of the year (although that’s on me for ordering something with such a name). The burger, with briny anchovies and funky Roquefort cheese, was the lone saving grace, although I’d opt for its lamb burger cousin down the street every time. There wasn’t a single item I’d return for at Eel Bar.
02] La Giostra Florence, Italy
Everyone and their mother has an opinion on the food scene in Florence. But there’s one restaurant that is universally loved, on every “best of” list, and consistently cited as the place to eat in Florence — La Giostra. Stepping through the humble facade into the charming, cavernous dining room is a surreal feeling. Once seated, I couldn’t help but notice the walls were lined with photos of celebrities that span categories and generations. As I continued to scan the room, reality set in that this was a restaurant filled exclusively with tourists, myself included. This is a feeling I despise while traveling — it’s like I’m in a herd of sheep. The meal felt like I was at Italian Disneyland — bizarre, showy in all the wrong ways, expensive, and not very good. With each subsequent dish, my hopes for decency further sank — flavorless beef carpaccio, painfully sweet pear ravioli, tart and chewy veal scaloppine. This spot is nothing more than a well-disguised, overpriced tourist trap — and I got caught.
01] Theodora Fort Greene, Brooklyn
I’m gonna be real honest with you. All year, I’ve been struggling to grapple with my Theodora experience. All year, I’ve followed the seemingly universal praise, press, and clamoring for awards. All year, I’ve kept wondering: “Did I miss something?” Theodora was the most excited I’ve been about an opening in quite a while. But walking out the door, I felt fleeced and so disappointed.
Theodora’s design is phenomenal. You’ll enter a space that feels luxurious and custom in every way. An abundance of soft curvatures, painstakingly tiled features, soft ceramic wall sconces, and bronze mirror fixtures. Terra-cotta floors shift to reclaimed wood as you move front to back, and comforting earth tones persist throughout. Settled into a table, the dining room vibing, I was ready to rock.
As dishes started landing — a doughy, dense za’atar kubaneh, thinly slivered beets in salsa macha, chewy octopus drowning in oil — I lost my glimmer of excitement. Then came a high note, black cod in miso berrue blanc — flaky fish with crisp skin, floating in a silky sauce. It was a beautiful dish, although too dainty to share between three. The greatest offense came last: Lamb. Calling this pile of dry meat on soggy laffa bread a “large format” dish was criminal.
The restaurant’s identity revolves around an open-fire kitchen, but the flavors and textures you’d expect from fire – smoke, char, and caramelization — were nowhere to be found. I hate complaining about price, I really do, but the experience at Theodora felt extortionate; the $15 bread course, the $18 beets, the $46 lamb flatbread, a $10 Pacifico 12oz can. I really wanted Theodora to be great — it just wasn’t.
Stay tuned, next week we’ll return to our regularly scheduled positivity and praise with the annual Flood’s Awards.
THANK YOU for confirming that Theodora and Roman's were a letdown. When I ate at each everyone else at my table was raving about the food and I just...didn't get it? I was definitely surprised to see Little Grenjai on here though - they're still on my to try list and I'm curious to see how my experience will be!
hater in me looooved this