Mac and Toz, from the brilliant minds who brought us Bakn, recently opened in Bridgeville and since I heard of the macaroni and cheese based restaurant, I've been convinced that it will be the restaurant of my dreams. A sick adoration of melty cheddar and oozing gouda fueled my desire to visit Mac and Toz as soon as humanly possible, and the experience was one so remarkable that it brought me back to the blog. Buckle up, kids. It's time to review Mac and Toz.
Because I wasn't anticipating writing this entry, I did not photograph any portion of the evening, so for that, I apologize. I'll do my best to use words to give you the true experience.
Two Saturdays ago and a week into its opening, Boyfriend (or should I say Fiancé) and I made it our mission to dine at Mac and Toz before seeing a movie. The restaurant was packed, but as luck would have it, we were seated immediately since we were seeking only a table for two. The ambiance is laid back and the music loud. Patrons appeared to be enjoying their drinks and grub. I eyed the plates of other diners greedily and my mouth watered at the thought of the decadent mac and cheese that was about to enter my belly.
Our server, Dave, was friendly and personable. He quickly brought us some beers while we decided upon our dinner orders: sausage and pepper mac for the man and buffalo chicken mac for me.
After twenty minutes or so, Dave came back to let us know that the sausage mac had not been entered properly and would be a late arrival to the table. Tiny snafu, no biggie. My plate came soon after this announcement, and with forks poised, we dug into the cast iron skillet full of steaming noodles.
The meal of my dreams, the mac and cheese created by those who created the majesty of dishes that I adore at Bakn, was... bland. The cheese sauce tasted watered down and was just so-so. The chicken didn't seem to be seasoned and was just kind of there. I was rather disappointed, but you win some you lose some. I distractedly picked a piece of odd-looking chicken fat out of my meal while I chewed discontentedly. My disappoint was evident; perhaps I shouldn't have built this up so much in my head.
As I took another forkful of chicken, my mouth filled with an unfamiliar flavor. I swallowed, but then reality hit. The piece of chicken that had just entered by mouth was actually lobster. Another snafu, but this time, it kind of WAS a big deal. I have an allergy to shellfish and was well into a contaminated meal. I (politely) spit the food remaining in my mouth into a napkin and asked Boyfriend to please try the piece of "chicken" I had removed from my skillet a few minutes earlier. He tried it and confirmed it was lobster.
Our server was quickly summoned to the table and while I sat there trying not to look panicked, Boyfriend explained that a few rogue pieces of lobster had wound up in the dish and I was twenty or so minutes away from a reaction. Our server's face drained of all color and he looked so frightened that for a moment, I felt badly for him, then remembered that my throat was about to close, so all pity was brought back to myself. He scurried away to tell management and came to tell us they were about to hold a "strategy meeting." I doubt he was supposed to tell us about said strategy meeting, but the term made us laugh later nonetheless.
A manager soon arrived to our table to offer his apologies and to offer any other menu item to me. He also said that our meals would be free. I stared at him in disbelief and wanted to ask if he even understood what a food allergy is or how eating clearly wasn't going to happen, but refrained. I refused any additional food and soon Boyfriend's meal was brought to the table. I encouraged him to eat as my body became more and more heated. By the time we packed up his leftovers, I was dripping sweat, felt severely nauseated and was starting to feel tightness in my throat. We booked it to a nearby pharmacy for Benadryl and I spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch tragically.
After I recovered and all was well, Boyfriend decided that the situation wasn't necessarily handled in the best way. After his initial visit to our table to void the bill, the manager did not return. Other than offering me another dish of macaroni or another beer, there didn't seem to be any effort to make things right. I wanted to hear how they would evaluate their mess of a kitchen to ensure that this didn't happen again. I wanted a response other than a paraphrased "our bad." I wanted them to want me to come back. I won't.
Boyfriend reached out via Facebook message (because of course there is no phone number online nor an actual website for Mac and Toz) to relay what happened to the powers that be. He received no response.
I understand that errors happen. How many times have I ordered penne in an Italian restaurant and found a rogue spaghetti noodle? It happens, but when it comes to something like shellfish, it shouldn't happen. Luckily, my allergy is moderate, but someone else may not be that fortunate.
Mac and Toz, you were such a disappointment. I could forgive being poisoned if the food was any good, but alas. Diner beware.