Ty’s Tempeh Reubens

Let me be clear: I’m genuinely a fan of most fly-​by-​night living room couch operations trying to pass themselves off as serious eateries:
Thai X-​ing in DC? Yes please, sign me up for second’s!
Real honest-​to-​god speakeasies that serve moonshine or illegal raw milk cheeses (and won’t be named here to protect the innocent)? Hellz yeah.
Your grandma wants to open up a Chicago hotdog joint in her garage? I’ll be there with bells on.
So when a dear well-​intentioned guy I know from town named Ty said that he had aspirations to be a Tempeh Slinger out of his living room in bumfuck nowhere East Kennelworth, I said I’d give it a shot, even though I hate tempeh.
«Ty,» I said, «I’m happy to try your new fly-​by-​night place, but 1) I hate tempeh so serve me something else, and 2) I’m not going to hold back on my review, if what I find there is substandard. So you better wow me. Just WOW me.»
We agreed that he would serve me something other than tempeh. He said maybe french toast. I said OK. He said my head would spin, literally.
It did spin, but figuratively, and for all the wrong reasons.
First: Ty is an extremely disorganized cook. I came in to find dishes piled up to the ceiling. How one person could make that many dishes just cooking french toast is beyond me.
Second: It smelled ok, but when it got on my plate, honest-​to-​god, Ty, I’m sorry to say this, but it looked like an overcooked piece of country fried steak. Kind of blackened on the outside, grayish and crumbly on the inside. It looked like the worst steak ever.
Third: I started to just cry, right there into my french toast/​steak/​whatever. Thus seasoning it with some much needed salt. Because I promised Ty I’d review this place on his behalf, and he’s such a nice guy. Like seriously, you’ll never find a nicer guy in AVL, everyone loves Ty. I felt deeply conflicted. I still do.
And maybe everyone loving you is enough to stay in business longer than your product quality would otherwise allow, but please, Ty, for the sake of all of our nerves, I’d say now is the time to quit. While you’re ahead, I mean. While you still have a day job you can go back to.
Because there is not enough semi-​dry Riesling on this side of the Atlantic to choke down whatever tofu/​steak/​french toast chimera you were trying to pass off as breakfast.
Sorry Ty, I love you as a human being, but I calls em like I sees them.
P. s. Maybe your tempeh is as good as you say it is, but I ain’t giving you another shot to find out.

Ty’s Tempeh Reuben’s are good, but the chances that you will every get to eat them are slim to none. While you may think being super hip and connected might get you in… well it may. But the folks here are super snobby so you’ve been warned. They don’t server local beer either. Mostly just PBR.