Alma Tavern — Restaurant in Adelaide

NO SUNDAYS ARE DEFINITELY NOT DONE BETTER AT THE ALMA!!!! I’m appalled in times like these where hospitality venues are closing down left right and centre that the Alma hotel is so inflexible, they must really must be raking $ it in. We requested to have a table for 6 people with 3 people with mobility issues, but we were turn turned down because the function manager said “we have already a function in half of the beer garden” and the other floor staff member said she will get back to you by next Wednesday. Really are they that good that we as the people that literary pay their wages by our patronage, have to wait nearly a week for a response, but after writing to them via CONTACT US, the response was within 2 hours. I’ve been to the Alma for all sorts of occasions including 3 walk in wakes with lots of people up to 50 people to say the very least I was surprised and appalled. So apparently we were asking the impossible.

Our special request was to swap a table with high bench seating NOT to swap out an entire dining room but a table closer to the entrance, for people with the mobility issues and disabilities , we don’t use wheelchair s but canes. We wanted to relax and have a laugh for our reunion in the beer garden and not on a special event day but 21 May. We didn’t want to go into the restaurant, and feel uncomfortable to be loud and have a laugh, nor did we want to seat in a dark area, as we are professionals from hospitality, law and educational industries. My guests are coming over from Sydney, where the industry is far more flexible. So in the future PLEASE DON’T inconvenience the staff to move 1 table of 6 to accomodate people with disabilities and give them 10days notice because they are way too busy to NEED YOUR PATRONAGE. APPALLING STAFF NEED TO BE BETTER TRAINED!!!!!! And effort needs to be given to people with disabilities and inclusivity needs to be honoured by all...

Sadly, although this place is great for Coeliacs, the service, in my opinion, has really gone down. I am a regular customer and I'm not sure that I will continue returning. I came here for my birthday celebration, the waitress was quick to take away my left overs to then throw them away! What a waste. Despite this, I decided to give you guys a second chance, I called to make a booking to be told "NO" I couldn't do so. I then told the lady over the phone that there were bookings available online. She went on a tangent before saying despite that, no I wasn't able to book. Regardless, I then booked online, called back to confirm the booking and the person I spoke to said it was all confirmed. RIDICULOUS. We come to dinner, the waitress was rushing around and reaching over me, not excusing herself. She was so abrupt that it made me uncomfortable. Not to mention it is ridiculously hard to get the attention of any staff. We wanted a refill on our table water, I called out to a few people to come and help, but was ignored. I understand you are busy but you need to take notice of the tables and stop rushing around, this is a restaurant.

Another bad experience last night. The manager, Simon is extremely rude. Apparently they cannot cater dietary requirements and substitute child for mashed potato. Was extremely rude when I approached him about this. Was a fortnightly regular. Will not be coming back anytime soon. Prices have also risen and service has gone down simultaneously. All in one night, forgot our garlic bread, rude members of staff, undercooked stake, terrible unfresh...

Rocked up to the Alma for a feed and strewth, it’s like someone nicked a bit of heaven and parked it smack bang in Norwood. First up, the chicken wings, skin so crispy you could hear it crack from the other side of the pub. Golden, glistening, hugging the meat tighter than a bogan in a mosh pit at the Gov. Then that rhubarb chilli sauce kicks in, starts all sweet like a Farmers Union iced coffee, then whacks ya like a copper catching you doing a burnout down Cross Road.

Prawn linguine rolled out next, fat juicy prawns tangled in pasta like they’d been netted down at Outer Harbor. Sauce was that rich I half expected it to start a bidding war at the Central Market. Had me making those little mmm noises that the oldies at the next table pretended they couldn’t hear.

Then the big dog, the scotch fillet. Bloody oath. Thick, tender, dripping with juice, and crowned with spiced butter that melted slower than traffic on South Road. Chips on the side, perfect for mopping up all the steak juice when you reckon no one’s looking.

The owners run the joint like pros, it’s got the vibe of a Sunday sesh down the Bay mixed with a Friday night at the footy. Leave here hungry and you need your head read. Next beer’s on you two legends, I’ll be...