Deal or No Deal?

Tom takes your complaints, including one about a muffin that left a diner cold

A periodic peek at the Post food critic's e-mail, voice mail and inbox.

Chito Padilla says he bit into a cold cheese muffin at the Spring Valley branch of Le Pain Quotidien during a recent breakfast. "While I did not expect a $4 muffin to be baked to order," e-mails the Washington reader, "I also did not expect it to be cold." So he asked his server if it could be warmed up. The waiter apologized and said no, explaining, "We serve them as they are intended by our bakers to be eaten," according to Padilla.

He figured no baker would want the product to be eaten cold, so he found a manager, who more or less repeated the server's line. "Realizing that I was not convinced of his explanation, [the manager] sought the professional guidance of a colleague" in a chef's jacket behind the counter, who told Padilla, "We are told from the top that we should not warm baked goods when we are busy." Padilla says he's "not sure which explanation for my cold muffin is worse, but, at least, I felt I was told the truth. I still like my muffins warm and know I cannot get them at Le Pain Quotidien."

When I called the restaurant for a clarification, General Manager Brent Bayline rejected the explanation given by the employee in the chef's jacket. Bayline also explained the way things work at the Belgian-based operation, soon to have seven locations in the Washington area: None of the chain's products ever goes into a refrigerator. Items are baked fresh daily at a central kitchen in Georgetown. The manager added that his restaurant has limited equipment to handle a request like Padilla's: just a stove for cooking omelets and a warmer for melting cheese.

So why not use the warmer? Bayline said the equipment could potentially burn the outside of the muffin and dry out the center -- a situation no one would be happy with.

* * *

"What do you do as a guest at a restaurant gathering when the food you've been served is really mediocre?" I thought the question I received (but didn't have time to answer) during a recent online discussion was of enough interest to share it with members of my online discussion group, Sietsema's Table, and here in print.

According to the chatter, who was part of a birthday celebration at a well-known French bistro chain: "The food was atrocious. I counted exactly four bits of bacon in my so-called chopped salad," and "stale bread" showed up with the pâté. "I didn't want to complain and ruin it for the birthday girl," the reader wrote. "Still, I ended up paying $25 for food I barely touched. Do I just suck it up?"

Some people might "suck it up" as a courtesy to others. But who says the complaint has to be broadcast? An easy alternative: The reader could have excused herself from the group and pulled a manager aside to share her disappointment. Trust me: Restaurateurs would much rather deal with quibbles while customers are still in the house; that way, there's a chance of resolving the issue on the spot (and saving other diners from AWOL bacon bits and less-than-fresh bread).

* * *

David Hunter is not the only reader to accuse me of doling out too few stars in this space, or at least writing about too few excellent-on-up establishments. "I can't recall a review ever being better than 2 stars" (a good-to-excellent rating in my book), e-mails the McLean subscriber. "I read reviews hoping to read about a restaurant I want to try, not one to avoid."

Here's the reality: Excellence (three stars) is hard to find; a world-class experience (four stars) is even more elusive. Though I love telling readers about what's best on the scene, I also have to be honest: A lot of places I try are just pretty good, not great. Still, there are plenty of two-star restaurants where I would be happy to spend my own money. And since when is "good" not worth anyone's time and attention?

Hunter's complaint sent me to the Post archives. For the record, last year I rated two restaurants "poor"; 11 restaurants fell into the category of "satisfactory" (one star); 21 establishments received a "good" review (two stars); and 13 venues earned a "good-to-excellent" evaluation (2 stars). My lone three-star review in a regular Dining column went to Four Sisters, the delightful Vietnamese restaurant in Falls Church (Magazine, Nov. 23), although my fall Dining Guide (Oct. 12) included 11 three-star reviews and four four-star critiques: plenty of stellar eating, in other words.

* * *

A participant in my online chat asked me to air a pet peeve: "I keep running into too-warm glasses of red wine. (Not literally.) Can you send out a plea to restaurants to serve red wine at the proper temperature, below room temperature?"

As someone who has railed against the problem before, I'm happy for the chance to say it again: Heat is wine's enemy. Heat emphasizes the flavor of alcohol over fruit. Although the optimal serving temperature varies from wine to wine (full-bodied, dry red wines are best served in the mid-60-degree range, while lighter reds benefit from slightly cooler temperatures), they shouldn't approach modern-day "room temperature" (about 70 degrees), a standard that dates to a time when castles were used as reference points.

If I get a bottle of red that's too warm, I'll ask for an ice bucket. (Sometimes, for fun, I'll share the "before" and "after" with tablemates. You'd be amazed at what a little chill will do for a bottle.) If I get a glass of wine that's too warm, I might add an ice cube from my water glass, although I pluck it out before it can melt completely.

* * *

The sign advertising a Sunday brunch buffet and weekday lunch buffet outside Bambule in Friendship Heights drew the interest of Mark Rosenman and his wife, who thought the words signaled a bargain: $10.95 for brunch. So the two were surprised to be charged $19.95 each for their meal.

"When we pointed out the different pricing information outside," Rosenman e-mailed me, "our waitress first told us that we had been charged the correct weekend price. When I said that I thought the sign was misleading, she got the manager, the two of them went outside and looked at the sign, and came back in and told us the price was still $19.95 on weekends."

The Washington reader persisted. The manager extended a senior discount and reduced the Rosenmans' tab by 20 percent -- a generous response, in my opinion. "We tipped on the higher price," reports Rosenman, "took this cellphone picture when leaving and decided to send it to you." I could see why the diners were confused: Without a line to separate the brunch and lunch hours, next to which the $10.95 figure appears, it could read as if both meals cost $10.95.

Lou Mehrdad, Bambule's general manager, disagrees. He thinks the message outside is perfectly clear but nevertheless offered to change it. "People have to notice things," he told me, adding that the restaurant's Web site lists brunch at $19.95.

Tell me how you interpret the sign [the second photo in our slideshow above]. Write to asktom@washpost.com, and include your name and a daytime contact number; I'll share your thoughts in the magazine and online.

The regular Dining column will return next week.