A well-known fact about me is that I hate spending my money. What can I say? I already have so little of it as a college student. I went to the club last weekend, and now I’m financially ruined for at least the next two weeks.
And yet, I also believe in supporting the local scene— and keeping the local scene alive typically involves spending a little bit of money at local businesses.
Thus, I’m chronicling my thoughts on local experiences in Asheville and whether or not I think they’re worth the time and money— all in the name of students like me who want to support local but don’t want to gamble with their money.
The Watch Kitchen & Spirits— is it worth it?
The only remnant of him was the Valentine’s Day dinner reservation, which I couldn’t figure out how to cancel. Luckily, darling dearest Moon Stracener came to the rescue and went with me.
The Watch— located inside the Restoration Hotel downtown— offered free valet service with a reservation. We laughed as Moon pulled up to the front of the hotel, feeling so adult. I hopped out of the car to confirm our reservation and then we watched the little green Chevy drive away to God-knows-where.
We went in and walked up to the waiter’s stand.
“Do you know you’re late?” said the waiter after I gave him my last name.
The reservation was for 5:45 pm. It was 5:51 pm. Moon and I looked at each other nervously. I apologized to the waiter. He told us to stand to the side of the waiter’s stand.
“Wait here,” he said, his golden earring dangling as he shook his head.
So we did wait. We watched him go buzz around the dining room. The restaurant’s open floor plan, with the tables all close in the middle, made it seem much more packed than it was.
We stood, eventually turning our attention to the Winter Olympics being broadcast on the TV above the bar. The event was men’s skeleton— a ridiculous but captivating sport— and we giggled watching the male athletes slide headfirst down and up the sides of those slippery ice tracks.
The waiter came back after fifteen minutes, and then we were seated.
He took us to the end of the long, L-shaped booth where there was a small table for two. The pairs of plates, glasses, menus and silverware were set across from each other, but the waiter moved them.
“Here, sit next to each other,” he said, rhythmically rapping his fingers on the gray upholstery of the booth.
We glanced at each other briefly, nervously, before sitting down. He disappeared then into the crowd of more incoming guests.
Moon gestured at something behind me, so I reared my head around. There was a group sitting in the booth behind ours. A couple sat in the middle of it all— a completely average-looking man wearing a Davy Crockett hat next to an attractive young woman who could’ve been a model. She had shiny straight brown hair and a disinterested, dead-eyed stare. It was like seeing MJ Lenderman with Emily Ratajkowski.
“He must be really funny,” I joked to Moon.
Moon laughed. Oh, the ridiculousness of romance. It’s completely illogical. Thinking about it now, the couples around us at the restaurant really were some strange pairings.
For instance, the couple sitting directly next to us in the booth didn’t share more than 20 words the whole time. The lady was on her phone while the gentleman fidgeted with his man bun, intermittently sipping his beer. I felt awkward watching them.
The Watch is certainly not the most romantic vibe. I’d probably recommend it for when your parents are in town, and you’re looking for something that everyone will probably be okay with.
Eventually, a different server came over and filled our glasses with water. The mouth of the silver carafe was much too wide, and water spilled on the table.
She looked overwhelmed, and I felt bad. It seemed very hectic that night. She was wearing earrings with small bunches of cherries on them, which I told her I liked.
I decided to order the meat trio flatbread ($16), and Moon went with their chili ricotta and pistou flatbread ($15).
We watched our server rush away. A few minutes later, we watched the waiter with the golden earring get into a heated interaction with her on the other side of the room. I saw him gesture at us while she grabbed his shoulders, as if to comfort him somehow.
“Quite strange,” Moon said.
Our food came out after 15 minutes, which wasn’t any time at all since Moon and I never struggle to find a myriad of subjects to both laugh and mull over.
The flatbreads were good sizes and a few patrons had ordered them to share while chatting, lemon sours in their hands.
Moon’s flatbread was colorful, with pink pickled onions, cherry tomatoes and ricotta peeking out from under a bed of arugula and cheese. The green sauce on the flatbread was pistou, a French sauce originating in the Provence region, which Moon said tasted very similar to pesto.
The meat trio flatbread I ordered had pepperoni, sausage, and sopressata. The crust was perfectly crisp on the edges but also flaky, which I really liked. The sopressata was a sweet salami that went wonderfully with the savory sausage and pepperoni. It’s quite difficult to go wrong with pizza.
We both enjoyed our flatbreads but were in no mood to hang around much since we planned to drive to Charlotte that evening after dinner. It was going to be a long night— we were headed to a nightclub to celebrate a friend’s birthday— and I was glad to get some good food in my stomach before a night of dancing, dancing, dancing.
Our server brought us a check. She placed it face down on the table.
“I’ll look away,” she said with a laugh.
Moon and I glanced at each other, confused, before remembering, yes, of course, it’s Valentine’s Day. When she walked away, I gestured at a different server to bring us separate checks.
We had Moon’s car retrieved before we stepped out onto the street.
In the car, which Moon coincidentally named Joan, we came to a unanimous agreement that The Watch is probably not worth it. I had a good time— of course I did, I was with Moon— but I wouldn’t recommend it. The restaurant seemed understaffed and stretched thin that night. Although our food was good, it wasn’t worth the price.
Still, I’m glad I kept that reservation. Something pretty unexpected came out of it.
Onward!
