Dining ironically is one of life's greatest pleasures. Mapping out your 17-mile route to the nearest Red Lobster just to pummel a Cheddar Bay Biscuit into your mouth or getting blitzed on Fireball and flying off the mechanical bull on a full stomach at Saddle Ranch are experiences we must continue to give ourselves. But whether it's scratching an itch for nostalgia or simply living with zero regrets on a Saturday night, ironic dining only works when there's something actually worthwhile about it in the end.
SUR, unfortunately, has nothing of the sort.
If you feel like you’ve heard of this place and aren’t sure why, it’s the restaurant everybody works at on Vanderpump Rules, the mindless reality show that pops up every year on Bravo. To be clear, Vanderpump Rules is fun and creating a TV show about your restaurant is f*cking smart business in this town. Have your cake and eat it too, Lisa. What we hold against the restaurant, however, is the simple fact that everyone at SUR assumes the TV show is enough. Guess what? It’s not. Even if you're eating there ironically.
By just walking into this place, you feel duped. Your reservation was lost the second you made it, and that specific table you requested (because that's a thing you do here) is now occupied by someone with a Shahs Of Sunset credit on their IMDb page. The massive, gaudy interior is probably what you imagined it to be, but unless you’re rolling on Vicodin after putting your kids to bed, the allure of cheap drapery and pink accent lighting is fleeting. The food is hot garbage, that $40 bottle of corn syrup they're selling as Lisa’s Rose Sangria is an embarrassment, and you can’t seem to spot any of your favorites from the show. News flash: they aren’t there. And even if they were, they’re not nearly as thrilling as the manufactured chaos on TV makes them out to be. And that’s precisely what’s wrong with SUR - everybody here is looking for fun where it doesn’t actually exist.
Take a look around next time. There'll be a few catatonic housewives slumped over in the corner, some lost tourists looking for Julia Roberts, and impressionable 23-year- olds filtering themselves all night on Snapchat - but that’s it. Nobody here is in on the joke because there’s no joke being told. SUR truly believes it's one of LA's great restaurants, and that's not irony, that's just wrong.
This is apparently the signature dish at SUR. Which is sad, because this probably wouldn’t be the signature dish at your local roller skating rink.
If you get these microwaved all the way through, consider yourself among the lucky ones.
Hercules sad face.
The first sesame seed crust spotted since that cruise your parents took to South Padre Island in 1987.
Go with god.