Review of Tures – by Mikaela R.

Being located where it is, you’d expect some decency. At Ture’s, that’s a mistake.

My moules frites were ok, but only that. My partner got a long dark hair in his fish soup. He’s bald and I’m blonde so it was from neither of us. When we finally managed to get the attention of the waitress (she was mostly busy checking herself out in any reflecting surface she happened to pass) my partner kindly notified her about the hair and simply asked if he could have his soup replaced. She pondered on her reply for a second or two before arrogantly bursting out: “It could be your own hair!” A few seconds later it dawned on the young lady that she was speaking to a man with no hair. In an act of some kind of defiance she grabbed the bowl and didn’t return until ten minutes later with a new bowl of soup - this time admirably free from hair but not much warmer than her own attitude. My partner and I finished, giggling about the incident. And every time the waitress passed she gave us a dark-eyed glare before checking herself out again in the steely espresso machine next to where we sat. As we finally succeeded in getting her attention one last time, this time to pay, she handed over the check implying we tip her.

This occurred on my last visit to Ture’s. Previous visits have not been as mind-blowingly unpleasant. But surprisingly often the staff’s attitude has left me with a pretty bad taste in my mouth. It’s a shame really. I don’t believe I’ll spank myself by going there again.