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Bistro Mokado Restaurant in Wilderness, Garden Route

While going about my duties (for which I get no danger pay) reviewing restaurants and such like, inevitably I come across some places that need lynching. This mainly happens when the choice of eatery is decided by democratic vote. This is hugely overrated and accounts for indigestion and reviews like the following:

I had a bad feeling about the place to start with as it rang loudly as a “generic” restaurant. This happens either when the owner lacks imagination or simply does not want you to be able to compare it with another restaurant. This one had a vaguely German theme and a vaguely German owner who was actively propping up the bar most of the evening.

–It was in a lovely setting inside the Milkwood Village courtyard, under the huge trees, and amongst a throng of hippy vendors and semi-live music.—


The staff all had the glazed “this is my first night” look and we should have got the message and left after the drinks order came back 3 times. The bar had run out of lemonade and the waitress could not find a “Bacardi and orange” in the fridge…. Ooops

We could tell during the food order (when she walked away after asking only two of us what we’d like), that the waitress was not getting it, so it was suggested that she get a pen and paper to write it down. 10 minutes later she comes back and puts the pen and paper on the table so WE could write down the order hahhahah, that was the highlight for me.

The food was absolutely terrible all round, arriving over an hour after we ordered and 30 minutes apart. The fillet steaks (tenderloin) were badly off, and utterly inedible, the chef had seemingly tried to disguise this by deep frying them in fishy oil. I’m not kidding either.

My Veal Thingy was also deep fried in the same fishy oil and could have been chicken, beef, pork or vagrant. In retrospect I am thinking it may have been a typo for seal, in which case it was the worst seal I ever ate.

Needless to say we complained about the “fillet-o-death” and get this: the waitress tells us ” You ordered it, you MUST eat it” hahaha, I just changed my mind, forget what I said earlier this was my highlight.

We had to call the owner from the bar, which was tricky and we eventually got it off the bill. Luckily there was a pancake stand nearby, where we ate another dinner afterwards.

The name of the restaurant at the top of the post might be inaccurate and its exact location omitted. This is not to protect the innocent, but I think due to the psychotropic effect of rancid beef.— I have since found the restaurant thanks to the wonder of the internet and corrected the spelling and location—Ed