In the debate about the importance of reviewer anonymity, some argue that it only matters so much—a restaurant can't dramatically up its game when a big shot walks in the door. But that wasn't the case with the Post's Steve Cuozzo at Agua Dulce.
His anonymous visit:
Dude, embrace this: Your lunchtime frisee salad with Manchego cheese contained no Manchego. Asked about it, the waiter first claimed it wasn't supposed to, then sheepishly brought cheese on the side. Salmon ceviche was a fussy, slimy, salty blur. Chicken slices atop an ottoman-like round of saffron Valencia rice were the dry, flavorless salad-bar article.
And when they knew he was coming:
What a different story on the night when Sterling and a platoon of managers hovered over our every morsel. Ginger-kissed butternut squash soup was light on the tongue and grilled salmon as juicy as its skin was crisp... But a restaurant is supposed to be good all of the time, not just when it's at battle stations.
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