Heartbreak Hotel

I always wondered what bored billionaires do. Because if you think about it, they’ve probably done it all, right? Jumped out of airplanes (morons), rode elephants, sailed around the world in a boat (morons), bought tropical islands, rubbed elbows with the stars (morons) and collected every vehicle they dreamt about since they were little… just to name a few things. Well, I found out what one of ‘em does when I went to his hotel to have lunch the other day at the Four Seasons Westlake Village.

Now before I go on, just take that in for a moment…

…Four Seasons Westlake Village.

To me, that’s another moron… an oxymoron.  

There’s the Four Seasons London, the Four Season Tokyo, the Four Seasons Milan, the Four Seasons St. Petersburg, the Four Seasons Paris, the Four Seasons Hong Kong (just to name a few), and the Four Seasons… Westlake Village. Do you hear that slow, steady, high-pitched squeaking? That’s hot air seeping out of a deflating balloon. Or the taco I ate yesterday… one of the two.

If you were to utter “How disappointing” right at this moment, it would be a major understatement.

My point is, who the hell in their right mind goes to vacation in Westlake friggin’ Village?! This “Dole” guy, the one who owns the hotel, thinks there are a lot of people who would. The Dole to which I’m referring is… yep, the pineapple guy! I can’t make this shit up, people. A canned pineapple guy wants world-traveling jet-setters to come to Westlake Village to vacation. And apparently, to hold onto their youth too, because the hotel is a “Longevity Center and Spa” as well as a hotel managed by a world-class company.

*snicker*      *snort*       *guffaw*

Okay, okay I have to admit, WLV (Westlake Village) competes with BH (Beverly Hills) for the most nips, tucks and sucks for both men and women, and the only natural breasts you’re gonna find there are the ones on the fresh roasted turkey at Gelson’s supermarket, so I get the “longevity” thing. But there’s nothing world-class about WLV. Unless you consider The Housewives’ franchise compelling television, then it’s world-class.

So this bored billionaire has a hotel, and let me just say this: He has zero taste; the place is hideous. As you enter, it almost takes your breath away… and not in a good way either. You initially have hope that it’s going to be spectacular, then you see a giant, ornate crystal chandelier juxtaposed with what can only be described as “stuffy lawyer’s office” decor. It’s like a cross between Bette Midler, Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump.

Like I said, hideous.

I went there to luncheon with… Jesus Christ, I just said “luncheon”… this kooky doctor who practices Functional Medicine, whatever the hell that means! I guess it’s some new-age, hocus-pocus healing practice where they align your chakras, stick needles in your face, and then try to sell you Amway. 

boulders

Amway… I mean, anyway, forget why I was there with a kooky, new-age doctor, let’s talk about the food. 

I ordered a sandwich.

Now if I thought 10 bucks was a lot of dough *snicker* for a shitty sandwich, like the one in my last post, this one was astronomical. It was double the price, which nearly gave me a goddamn heart attack! Luckily I was luncheon…ing with a doctor, even if she was kooky.

I ordered their vegetarian sandwich on account of I was still trying to eat healthily. Well forget that shit because as soon as they brought out some bread and butter, I was in it to win it! That was a mistake. As soon as I bit into a piece I almost chipped a tooth on the stuff; it was like hard leather! They happen to offer dentistry services there at the “Longevity” center, so I guess they start out your stay by breaking some of your goddamn teeth. What lacked in tenderness though was made up for with absolutely nothing because the flavor was awful too. 

My sandwich was composed of grilled eggplant and portabella with fennel slaw, swiss cheese, sprouts, arugula pesto and a spicy harrissa vinaigrette served on tomato foccaccia. Sounds delicious, right? Well it shoulda been, but somehow Dole managed to make it completely tasteless, and really, it makes complete sense because we’re talking about someone who makes canned pineapple for a living. Plus his decor is tasteless, so there you go. The eggplant and portabella were dry and rubbery, so when I bit into it with my now fragile teeth, it was like biting into a bicycle tire. I couldn’t discern any fennel slaw or arugula pesto flavor either, and harrissa, which is normally a gorgeous, fruity, spicy pepper relish with tons of flavor, was dumbed down with mayonnaise; hardly a “vinaigrette” as they called it. The greens that were served on the side were delicious, but there were dry because the dressing was pooled at the bottom of the plate, and I have yet to meet someone who doesn’t want to toss my salad.

The only thing that saved this dish was the view overlooking the waterfall made from the gigantic boulders that the Dole guy had supposedly transported from Thailand. That was nice. I guess. 

So that answers my question about what bored billionaires do after they’ve done it all. They open hotels and serve bland food.

How boring.

Four Seasons Hotel, Lobby Lounge restaurant

Two Dole Drive

Westlake Village, CA

818.575.3000

Categories: Best food blog, Food, Funny, Humor, Sandwiches, Sarcasm, Satire | Tags: , , , , , , | 6 Comments

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6 thoughts on “Heartbreak Hotel

  1. A lot of people seem to define “luxury” as having things done FOR you and TO you but never doing anything, yourself.

    To me, the doing IS the fun.

    Installing a garden and watching it take off over the seasons, feeding grass to a random horse on a country road and feeling that velveteen muzzle push into my hand, turning old blankets into sleeping nests for a cat adoption sanctuary, helping someone get their car unstuck in the snow, trying a new, weird dessert recipe and devouring the evidence, sewing a kimono robe and having it turn out so well that people ask me where I bought it, feeling like a genius after installing a bathroom faucet, climbing a mountain just for the view–these were all highlights from my life that gave me a rush akin to winning a small lottery.

    Not that I’d turn down money. Just imagine how great my garden would be if I could afford compost.

  2. I will tell you all about becoming a billionaire when I become one after I sell this blog to a developer.

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