Growing up a child of grocery store owner parents, dinner was often after closing. The Hen House in Seymour was a staple, but the Kingfish in Louisville was a treat. I remember it being a pretty big deal when the family drove south to the one on River Road to enjoy a meal and watch the boats on the Ohio. Tonight’s late night trip south to the Zorn Avenue Kingfish wasn’t exactly the experience I remember from my youth.
There were six of us counting Coco, and with the car seat taking up a ton of room we had a convoy. Sort of. A good hour drive, I thought it would be a good idea to call during the trip and make a reservation so we didn’t have to wait.
Her (in a 1/2 audible voice): Kingfish
Me: Can you tell me if you have a wait for seating?
Her: No
Me: Ok, then I’d like to make a reservation.
Her: A reservation? Hang on for the manager.
The manager? Do people not make reservations in Kentucky?!? The manager never came on the phone — matter of fact, Ms-Lazy-Phone-Answer-Chick hung up on me after about 4 minutes. If I had not been set on the Kingfish, we’d have gone someplace else.
The wait was short once we arrived and the food was just as I remember. A live band played on the waterfront — “Jack & Diane” and a few other tunes I can’t recall right now. The Kingfish in-person experience wasn’t bad at all… but I still wonder how many customers are lost because their phone greeting system sucks out loud. If I were not a repeat customer, I would’ve missed it — all because my Kingfish experience began with an extremely poor representation of the restaurant.
These 2 girls have full bellies after a full day — time for sleep.