The weather was beautiful, Innsbruck looked glorious as always, and we caught up with some fantastic old friends. We walked up and down the River Inn in blinding sunshine, in awe of the majestic profile of the snowy Nordkette mountain range. We munched crepes as we wandered around the Altstadt Christmas market, which is dominated by a vast Christmas tree beneath the Golden Roof; and sipped Gluehwein as the sun dipped behind the mountains and the Christmas lights began to twinkle. We even journeyed to Hall-in-Tirol to enjoy the 15th-century town's more traditional Christmas market, with its understated decorations and craft stalls. It was turning out to be a truly magical weekend.
Then, on Sunday, we arrived full of anticipation and excitement at Piano Bar for lunch. The restaurant is cave-like and, with its haphazard artwork strewn across the walls and dark wood furniture, could have been taken from downtown Vienna. What's more, we have always enjoyed characterful service and excellent food. We were greeted by a quirky waiter as always - slicked back hair, garishly striped shirt with extravagant braces. Nothing has changed, we thought with glee. He took our order promptly, commenting how hungry we must be.
Then we waited ... and waited ... and waited... Certainly, it is a sign of quality and fresh preparation that meals take a while to be served, and we knew that to be the case at Piano Bar. We weren't in a hurry, so we waited some more, knowing the food would be excellent when it arrived ... but after waiting for an hour and still seeing no sign of even our salads - although customers who had arrived later than us had already received their main courses - we started to worry. I called over the waiter and politely asked if he knew how much longer we would have to wait. We were keen to get outside and enjoy the sunshine again. He put up his hands in surrender, bowing in that slimy way characteristic of Basil Fawlty, and telling me that he couldn't control which meals the chef prepared first.
Anyway, our salads promptly arrived after that - and meanwhile we had noticed other unsatisfied customers leaving because their orders had not been taken or they had been left waiting like us. We munched our salads, hoping the main courses would soon arrive. "15 minutes" announced the waiter, bowing to us in that preening manner akin to Fawlty. He offered us a glass of Prosecco on the house in the meantime - a nice gesture, but not really good enough. "Two minutes!" he shouted, patronisingly keeping us abreast of the schedule.
A meal did arrive as announced - it just wasn't what we had ordered. As someone who doesn't eat ham, I was offended to have received a ham roesti (potato cake). "We didn't order this," I said politely. He snapped back: "Well, this is the quickest thing to prepare. You can't expect to get food quickly and get what you ordered." You call getting our meals after 90 minutes quick? You think we were prepared to pay for a meal in a restaurant to get a lucky dip from the menu? No, thank you. Sorry Piano Bar, you've fallen in my estimations. Good enough is not good enough - and that wasn't even close to satisfactory. Future customers beware: read the menu, choose what you want, and expect excellent food, but keep in mind that invisible little star that links to the invisible little small print: Customers may expect to receive any or all of the above, depending on the humour of our chef.
