Welcome to Review Raiders, where we defend the honor of some of our favorite establishments from the savage judgment of the internet. In other words, we’re taking irrational restaurant reviews and giving them some constructive feedback. Now, let us be clear — we wholeheartedly believe in freedom of speech (and taste), which is precisely why we feel inclined to exercise our own. Every 1-star review has its story, and every story deserves a happy rebuttal.
I guess there’s a first time for everything. For me, brunch at Yellow Jacket was my first time going to town on a slab of tender pork belly while under the shade of majestic birch trees. Bacon is one of my oldest friends, but I wouldn’t hate if I got to enjoy my pork in the form of a tiny pillow more often. If only those trees could talk…(we’d probably hear legends of perfect bloody mary’s that kicked off perfect weekends amongst perfect friends). What struck me most about this East Austin oasis was its ability to do so much with so little. A small bar and patio was all it needed to create a truly memorable experience, taking a tiny space and transforming it into huge ambiance. Great food helps, but you know what helps more? When the people eating it are getting buzzed on good vibes.
I looked everywhere, but I just couldn’t seem to find any crusty hipsters. Maybe I didn’t look hard enough, maybe I don’t know what a crusty hipster looks like, or maybe I don’t let the people around me dictate what I think of a restaurant? Probably the last one. I was pleased that Yellow Jacket “tries hard,” because the result was something unique. And while we didn’t try a beet sandwich, we did make obnoxiously quick work of a tuna melt while saddled up at a picnic table. The dirt below my feet was just a welcomed reminder that a good meal can happen anywhere, and that’s a beautiful thing.
Quick question for nobody in particular: Why are people so turned off by what they don’t expect? Let me elaborate—when we try new places, why aren’t we delighted by an experience that is different? Is “scary” just another word for “unfamiliar?” I’ll have to ponder more later, because for now I’m focused on how friggin’ awesome it is to live in a place with such a diverse collection of restaurants, people and culture. If I wanted insights on things I already love, I’d have some awkward conversations with my mirror. Cheers to the folks working hard to expand our collective perspective.