Carrabba's Italian Grill — Restaurant in Tulsa

I took my girlfriend from Canada to this location here in Tulsa last night. It was a horrible experience. We came from a nice romantic dinner. We started the meal off with a bottle of wine. The server didn't know how to present the wine to us at all. He bragged about all of this experience he had in France doing wine tasting and couldn't properly present the bottle, could barely open the bottle, and then didn't give my wife the ability to taste it. He just filled our glasses. The only thing proper about the presentation was allowing us to smell the cork. We paid 40 dollars for bottle of wine for the experience not to get drunk and that's how the horrible presentation made it feel. like we were there to get drunk.

Before we got our bread and drinks the salads came. The young gentleman spilled my water into my salad when bringing the water and salad. The water poured over his hand onto it, and ruined it for me. We had to ask the waiter to pour our oil for our bread, and as soon as they did there was our food. Mind you we had just received our salads within one minute or 2.

My girlfriend ordered the pasta with shrimp and filet. She ordered her filet medium-well and received a medium rare. We complained and they warmed up our steak. When the steak came back it was well done, and I had to eat it for her.

The manager eventually did give us a free dessert because it was obvious my girlfriend wasn't eating the steak. We ordered the bread pudding. It came back and wasn't that great. The manager spent a good amount of time trying to sell us on coming to a wine drinking date night thing. Tbh, I don't remember exactly what it was because I tuned her out. I didn't plan on another disaster at this place.

While still drinking our wine the server brought us the check, after, I personally let him know I'd call for his assistance when he needed us. He kinda felt like a fly hovering over the food. You just wanted to shew him away.

Thanks Carabbas... This is what you introduced my girlfriend from another country to at her first experience in the states. To think I told her hospitality was awful in Canada...

No worries. We won't be back...

Sincerely, A...

Pretty clean place. The food is excellent—some of the best Italian I’ve had in this state. But the service is always lousy (I’ve been there 5 times over the past several years). We went again just last week and was served by an apathetic young man who barely smiled, laughed or talked beyond what he had to. We tried to engage him, compliment him, be understanding of any errors, but we got nothing in return. And it’s happened every single time we’ve gone. It’s like the waiters see you as nothing more than a tip, not a person with feelings and a life just like them. To be fair, they usually do keep up with drink refills, get orders right, clear the table of any used dishes, etc. The mechanics are fine, it’s just the friendliness, except for a person here or there. When we went last week, for example, there was a sweet girl from the kitchen who brought us our dessert, and she was wonderful. The door greeter, when we left (not entered, she was busy talking then), smiled when we left. Also, a young man was sitting on the stools by the door/bar area, and said thanks to part of my party, and the rest he sneered at, got up and left as they were smiling and before they could say thanks to him, too. This particular restaurant is between Abuelo’s and Texas Roadhouse, and those two restaurants are always busy—always. It’s difficult to find a seat or parking place without wait time. But Carrabba’s is easier, usually, to find seating and to find parking. I wonder if they aren’t as busy because, while the food is excellent, the service isn’t half of what you can get at Abuelo’s or TR. I’m going to try once more and then, if my family and I are treated the same, we won’t eat at this establishment again. It ruins the whole experience when you feel the cold indifference of the...

It felt good to walk back into Carrabba’s after seventeen years. In my early twenties, I worked here for a short while—long enough for this place to change something I thought would never change: my stubborn hatred of lentil soup.

For as long as I could remember, lentils and I were sworn enemies. My mom would plead with me as a kid, “Just try them,” but I could never get past that first bite. Then came a Friday night when I was about twenty-two, running on fumes from my first job and racing to Carrabba’s for my second. The restaurant was packed, the energy high, and I hadn’t eaten all day. By 10 p.m., I was about to collapse from sheer exhaustion and hunger.

That’s when the cooks appeared, grinning. “¡Primo! ¿Quieres?” Lentil soup. With bread.

Normally, I would’ve passed. But hunger has a way of humbling a man. I took the bowl, more out of desperation than curiosity. Then came the first spoonful.

And just like that—Oh my God, Becky—I was converted. From that day until I left, lentil soup became my go-to meal here. I tried to recreate it at home without success… until my wife, with her quiet kitchen magic, nailed it.

So today’s visit had a mission: see if Carrabba’s still made it just like I remembered—and to check if my wife’s version still holds its crown. The soup? Still excellent. The bread? Different from the old days. I’d know—I used to be the one warming and slicing it.

My wife ordered a sirloin steak, and let me tell you, it was perfection. I haven’t had one cooked that well in years. The peach lemonade kept flowing like refills at a backyard barbecue—sweet, cold, and endless.

Carrabba’s, you’ll always hold a special place in my...