Trattoria 225

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Manly ass slap – ½ star
Fone and fone – 0 stars



Restaurant: Trattoria 225
Location: 225 Harrison, Oak Park


I grew up in Oak Park and my parents still live there, so I make it out there more times than not (at least I like to think so, though my mom would probably tell you that I don’t visit enough) for dinner. Now, whenever we head out there, dinner is limited to four options. Option 1: Lalo’s. This is my dad’s favorite place to eat. And for the last 10 years or so was just about the only restaurant they would go to. When I’d come back and visit from college? We’d go to Lalo’s. When my wife and I would come up to visit while living in St. Louis? We’d go to Lalo’s. When we’d head out there for dinner after moving back to the city? We’d go to Lalo’s. I think my parents went there every Friday night for like 8 years. They are like the Brett Favre or Cal Ripken of Lalo’s dining – they never missed a start. And I’m not complaining, because I like Lalo’s (fist bump with a manly ass slap). But every week? It can get a little old. Option 2: Barbeque in the backyard. This only happens on Sunday nights, and it only happens in the summer. And I use the term barbeque loosely, as it mostly consists of my dad burning everything in sight. Option 3: Salerno’s pizza. This is a staple when we don’t want to go out. And it’s probably my 2nd favorite pizza in the world. Option 4: Tasty Dog. Their hot dogs have cucumbers on them. But other than that they’re pretty good.

So I was pretty excited last week when my sister was in town and my parents said we were having dinner at Trattoria 225, a new Italian restaurant (rustic Italian dining, to be precise) not too far from their house. Growing up Harrison St. didn’t have a whole lot going on. There was Amanda’s (which was a convenience store we would go to all the time to get my mom Pepsi and buy water guns), La Majada (a Mexican restaurant which is still there and right across from Trattoria 225), and a laundry mat. And that’s about it. Now it’s full of art studios and cute little shops and a coffee shop and restaurants and everything. It’s like this cool little artsy strip that everyone in town seems to love. Quick sidestep here. My old boss had a sister who lived in Oak Park, and when I first met her (about 7 years ago) and told her where my parents lived, she talked about how Harrison was becoming the cool art part of town. She then proceeded to say how she used to be afraid to walk down Harrison, but that it was becoming the kind of place where it was OK for her kids to walk around (as long as it was light out). I didn’t even know how to react. This was the O.P. we were talking about. It’s not a scary place. I grew up there and almost never felt threatened even as a kid (except the one time a kid came into our backyard and tried take my brother’s bike, but my mom came out and put the kid in a choke hold until he tapped out and left running. Highest of high comedy.). And this lady was acting like it was Compton. White people make me laugh.

I was a little late to dinner because I have a job in the city and my parents seem to think they are 85 and made reservations for 6:30. By the time I got there they had ordered an appetizer and drinks. I ordered a beer from the waiter, and he was ready to take everyone’s food order. I made up for the lost time by getting the fresh mozzarella wrapped with prosciutto, grilled Caesar salad, margherita pizza, and the baked penne. And I also got dessert, but I’ll tell you more about that in a minute.

The fresh mozzarella wrapped with prosciutto was pretty decent. But then again anytime you wrap a cheese with cured meat I’m probably going to be more happy than not. The mozzarella didn’t quite taste as fresh as expected, and the prosciutto wasn’t the best I’d ever had, but it was grilled and topped with pesto, so it ended up being pretty delicious. The cheese was nice and soft, but not quite oozing. I’d for sure get it again, but it was also cheese and meat, so take my exuberance with a grain of salt.

The grilled Caesar wasn’t really grilled, at least not that I could tell. So I guess it was more like a Caesar. They served it like Barcello’s (R.I.P.) used to, as just a huge wedge of romaine that you had to cut up yourself. But it was fantastic. Better than Barcello’s. I really like the dressing, and the head of romaine tasted really fresh and crisp. Not too crunchy, not too soft. Not too ripe (can lettuce even be ripe? Is that possible? Can you describe lettuce that way, or only bananas and cantaloupe and stuff? Either way, you know what I mean.). Just a really good salad. And if I ever talk like this about salad again please kick me in the crotch.

I ordered the margherita pizza for the table, so everyone could get a taste, even though I think I ate most of it. It was a wood-fired pizza, which proves that Oak Park really is getting swanking and safe again for the pale of skin. The pizza was just OK. My mom really liked it, but it didn’t compare to Pizza D.O.C., Coalfire, or Spacca Napoli. But it was a solid option.

I really liked the baked penne. It was filled with spiced fennel sausage and pepperoni. And not some tiny, thin slices of pepperoni, but good, sizable chunks. And it was really good pepperoni. In fact, had the dish only had pepperoni, it might have been perfect. Next time I’m going to ask if I can order it without the sausage (which wasn’t bad, it’s just that there was a lot more sausage than pepperoni, and I like the pepperoni a lot better), and double up on the pepperoni. I have a feeling after I order it that way they’ll see the error of their way and change the menu. And name the dish in my honor (The Big Delicious Baked Penne). At least I like to think so.

For dessert the waiter talked me into the apple pie, which was topped with cinnamon gelato. The gelato was really good, and the pie was decent, just not hot enough. If you’re going to serve apple pie, I think you are required to make sure that it feels like it just came out of the oven. Otherwise what’s the point?

The service was great. The place has a nice set up (exposed brick, cement bar, lots of room, plenty of tables). And the prices were really, really reasonable.

There’s not much else to say about the place. It’s not great. It’s not awful. It’s just a really solid option, especially if you’re in the Oak Park area. Just good old-fashioned Italian food done right. Not too fancy, not too simple. A little something for everyone. Hopefully we’ll be heading back (sorry Lalo’s).

Fist bump.


Got a question? Send it to josh@borntofork.com.

Quartino

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Manly ass slap – ½ star
Fone and fone – 0 stars


Restaurant: Quartino
Location: 626 N. State St.


Maybe it’s because I was the middle child. Maybe it’s because I had a brother who was only a year younger. Maybe it’s because I’m a selfish bastard. But the fact remains – I hate sharing. When I was a kid my brother and I refused to share toys. On Christmas or a birthday, after we opened our gifts, if he tried to play with my toy or vice versa, there was bound to be a Battle Royal, where I was Andre the Giant and he was Jimmy Snuka. Unfortunately our mother was Hulk Hogan and would eventually beat us both down. Then she would play with our toys.

So why do I keep going to these restaurants that “encourage” you to order a bunch of plates and share the food? Because my wife makes me. And I’m OK with that.

So, we went and checked out one of the newest hot spots located in River North – Quartino. The Q (I encourage everyone to start calling it this) isn’t really a tapas restaurant, but more of a family-style Italian restaurant. It’s one of those places where you can order a plate for yourself (if you’re a selfish prick), or order a plate and everyone at the table can have a taste. In fact, this is encouraged. By “encouraged”, I mean the waitress said, “You CAN order plates for yourself, but you really should just order a bunch of stuff and share it. Think of it as wife swapping, but with food.” She sold me.

You may be asking yourself, (I seriously doubt it, but who knows?) “What does Quartino mean?” Well, it’s a carafe that holds a quarter of a liter of wine. And I have nothing else to say about that.

To start off dinner, we (me, my wife, Matt, and Allison) ordered some wine. The girls ordered some red wine, but Matt and I opted for something lighter. The waitress recommended the Harry’s American Bar Classic, which was a sparkling wine with white peach puree. She said it tasted like summer. I asked her if she meant Summer Sanders. Needless to say, she didn’t laugh. Regardless, we ordered it. When it came, it wasn’t quite what we were expecting. I think we both thought it was a sparkling wine with like a peach infusion or something. But, it was just a Mimosa with peach juice instead of orange juice. I guess I should have known. The drink was located in the Bellini section, which roughly translates to “cute”. Of course I got a “D” in Italian, so it could mean something entirely different. The point is Matt and I looked like a couple of Nelly’s sharing a carafe of this stuff. Then again, I’m the same guy who cries during Armageddon, so maybe the drink is fitting. The only thing missing was a tiny umbrella.

Before you even get to the big menu, they hand you a little menu of meats and cheeses. You order it the same way you do sushi at some places, where you just mark the meat(s) or cheese(s) you want, along with the QTY (that means quantity). Then they bring out a tray filled with the stuffed you marked. It was all very good, but the one that stuck out in my head was the duck prosciutto. Get it. I insist.

Now came the hard part – ordering dinner. Again, when you’re food swapping, it’s not just about what you want. You have to consider what everyone else wants. Because if you’re the only one who wants a steak (for example) you can’t really get it because you look selfish and you’re “wasting” that plate of food because it’s something that isn’t being shared. And you wonder why I hate tapas-style restaurants.

So, here’s what we got:

Ravioli ($7): It was filled with braised pork, speck, and fava beans. I think this was the winner of the night. A terrific dish. I couldn’t get enough of it. Literally. Again, I hate sharing food.

Polenta Fries ($6): They were fried. What more do I have to say? I’d get them again.

Veal Meatballs ($6): I said “balls”. Anyway, these were great. Matt and I had a mini fight over who got to finish them off. I lost. But I was distracted by the…

Braised Lamb Shank ($12): Not as good as the meatballs, but the meat just fell off the bone. Always a good sign.

Margherita Pizza ($10): Surprisingly good. But then again, they call themselves a “Ristorante. Pizzeria. Wine Bar.” so I shouldn’t be that surprised. It was so good, in fact, that I almost ordered another one. But then my wife gave me “that look”.

I felt full at this point, and I’m not sure why, since we didn’t order that much food. Oh, wait; I ate three loaves of bread before we ever ordered. Maybe that’s why.

But, that didn’t stop me from ordering dessert. And I’m glad I did. Then again, have I ever complained about a dessert? Keep that in mind. We got the banana split ice cream sundae thing, and the Nutella Panino. I was just on the website, and they don’t have the banana thing anymore, but now have an apple thing. The banana thing was good, and the apple thing looks like the same thing except with apples instead of bananas. So, maybe I actually just got the apple thing but forgot. You know what? I did get the apple thing. There was no banana thing. Who cares? Either way it was good. You’ll be happy. But it doesn’t really matter, because the Nutella Panino was where it’s at. I would honestly consider ordering this as part of my meal next time, and not wait until dessert. But I’m fat.

But the best part of the night? My wife decided to “name drop” to the waitress, letting her know that I write a restaurant review blog that “tons” of people read. “Born to Fork. Maybe you’ve heard of it?” (Shockingly, she hadn’t.) So, the waitress (I think her name was Awesome) brought out a Sgroppino, free of charge. Sgroppino is lemon gelato, lemon vodka, and prosecco. It really wasn’t that great, but it was free, so I drank/ate the whole thing by myself. The problem with it was that it was a little too strong. It was basically a milkshake with alcohol. It would have been much better as gelato with a hint of booze, instead of booze with a hint of gelato. But it was free. Don’t know if I told you that yet.

Before I give a final rating, I just want to apologize for the amount of “quotes” used in this review. I was trying to set some sort of record, and I think I did. Without further ado:

I keep going back and forth between a fist bump with a manly ass slap to a solid chest bump, so let’s just call it somewhere in between there. I think Matt put it best when he said, “I definitely would come back here, if it weren’t for the thousand other places in the city I want to try.”


Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

Spiaggia

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Manly ass slap – ½ star
Fone and fone – 0 stars




Restaurant: Spiaggia
Location: 980 N. Michigan Ave.


“Spiaggia don’t lie.”

So Geoff and I are sitting down, eating our dinner, and we’ve both been a little over served. After about two bites of his entrée, he turns to me and slurs, “I want to scribe the first line of your review.” Then he took a dramatic pause. “Spiaggia don’t lie. Spiaggia don’t lie.” He makes a good point. Spiaggia don’t lie.

I know what you’re asking yourself. Why in the hell were you and Geoff eating dinner together at Spiaggia? It’s not exactly the kind of place you and a friend go to and grab a bite to eat. Well, friends of ours from high school got married, and the reception was at Spiaggia. Now, my wife couldn’t attend because of a prior commitment, and Geoff’s wife couldn’t attend because he isn’t married or dating anybody. So, we went together. Which worked out great because they had an open bar and Geoff’s been known to put out after he’s had one-to-many. And I was in luck, because he had about nine-to-many.

The wedding was a beautiful Catholic wedding that only lasted about thirty minutes. Most Catholic weddings are a full service, lasting at least an hour. So anytime a Catholic wedding is only thirty minutes it becomes a beautiful Catholic wedding. After the wedding we drove down to Geoff’s place, which is around Grand and Ogden. We had an hour to kill before the reception started, and it was nice out, so we thought it would be a good idea to walk to Spiaggia from there. He didn’t really look at the invite, so he had no idea where it was, and I was convinced that it was on the 600 block of N. Michigan. So we figured we’d hustle straight down Grand, cut over to Ohio, and be there in plenty of time. The walk was nice. We talked. We laughed. We made every girl we saw feel so uncomfortable she would cross the street to avoid us. It was great. So, we hit Michigan Ave., looked around, and had no idea where this place was. We walked around for a couple of blocks, calling everyone we know and asking doormen and people on the street where the place was. Nobody had a clue. Finally I walked into the Coach store and pleasantly approached a couple of the ladies working there. “Do either of you know where Spiaggia is?” The first girl looked blank. Never heard of it. The second girl looked annoyed, “You mean Spagga?” correcting my pronunciation as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s down at 900 N. Michigan,” she said and turned to walk away. Thanks for the help. And by the way, bitch, it’s Spiaggia where I come from.

OK, so now we’re at the reception, drinks are flowing, I’m catching up with old friends, all is well. Then we see someone walking around with an appetizer tray, and I get a little excited. Then I see the tray. It’s filled with spoons, and each spoon has a tiny appetizer on it. Now I’m nervous that I’m gonna have to go to McDonald’s after dinner just so I don’t starve to death. I take the spoon, which has a small piece of artichoke on it, and devour it. Great. Eventually another tray comes around with more spoons, but these have prosciutto. Also great. Looking back it was genius. Just a tiny, tiny sample that whet my appetite and left me wanting more. Brilliant.

So we sit down for dinner and toast the happy couple with a glass of champagne. Just then our buddy Andres, aka Ronnie Physical, comes running over and puts everything in perspective for us. “I had no idea how nice this place was. They got white people serving the water.”

For starters we all got the Mozzarella di bufala con pomodori, cipolle, e pepperoni. Which is Italian for good-ass salad. And not the kind of good-ass salad you get in prison. This was basically a caprese salad with buffalo mozzarella, drizzled with olive oil and accented with a couple of vegetables. It was fantastic.

Next was the Ravioletti di formagella, which was ravioli filled with goat cheese and covered with a sauce that had a strong olive taste. I don’t really like olives, and the sauce was heavy on the olive flavoring. But even so, it was still really good, it just wouldn’t have been my first choice. And if I go back I probably wouldn’t get it again, but that’s just me.

And now came the entrée. I went with the fish. Normally at a wedding I go with the meat, because the fish is almost always salmon, and I don’t like salmon. But the fish tonight was Swordfish (Pesce spada alla costa assura to be exact) and I couldn’t pass it up. And I’m glad I didn’t. While the steak looked great, the fish was the perfect dish. Great flavor to it and perfectly cooked. My fork effortlessly cut through the large portion and tore off each piece. And I love the way fish can fill you up but doesn’t sit heavy in your stomach, which is good when you’ve had three drinks and are on your fifth glass of wine and your date for the night keeps putting his hand on your knee (not that I was complaining).

After dinner I noticed Ronnie Physical holding two cups of some fancy coffee. I went over and discovered that out in the lobby area they had a guy making espresso drinks. So, I strolled out there and got Geoff and me a couple of cappuccinos. When I brought it back to the table Geoff lit up. I’m no coffee expert. I brew it every morning, I know I like it strong, and I know I like Intelligentsia. But that’s about as much as I know. Geoff, on the other hand, is a bit of a coffee expert. Well, espresso really. And after one sip he turned to me and said, “Wow, this is perfect.” So that means they know what they’re doing. Then he touched my knee again. This was going well.

Dessert came and was a chocolate multi-layer cake served with a small side of ice cream. Guess what? It was also great. It was also at this time that Mr. M, (Two Moons Mathismo’s dad) was talking to our buddy Cornell who lives in New York. Cornell was inviting him out to visit, and Mr. Mathis responded by saying, “I know, I know. But I got to figure out what to do with my wife. You know you don’t bring sand to the beach.” Maybe it was the 1.3 blood alcohol level, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

As dinner wound down the music wound up, which allowed Geoff to do some Crip Walking and me to drop the Skateboard on fools. And that was that. Geoff and I danced the night away to the sounds of Stevie Wonder, Bel Biv Devoe, Bobby Brown, and more. We stumbled out of there at 1 a.m., but rumor has it the rest of the crowd danced until 3, as the staff stood there crossing there arms and hoping the night would be over sooner than later.

Just a great night overall. There’s nothing better than catching up with friends you don’t get to see often enough. And there’s also nothing better than Geoff’s goodnight kiss, which is the perfect blend between passion and compassion. Thanks Geoff.

Spiaggia was great. And if the wedding menu we were served is this good, I can only imagine how good the full menu is in the dinning room. But, until I actually eat in the actual restaurant, I can only give Spiaggia a chest bump with a manly ass slap. But I’m sure it would get a perfect score on my next visit. Stay tuned.



Got a question? Send it to born2fork@yahoo.com.

Corosh

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Fone and fone – 0 stars
Manly ass slap – ½ star



Restaurant: Corosh
Location: 1072 N. Milwaukee


I guess the easiest way for me to describe my experience at Corosh is “surprising”. I was surprised at the menu, at how good the food was, at the atmosphere, at the lounge upstairs, and at the fact that the place had a Golden Tee ’05.

According to the sign outside the building Corosh serves Italian food. So, I guess I wasn’t surprised that there was Italian food on the menu, but I was surprised at the amount of choices I had. Of course there were pasta dishes to choose from, but they also had entrees that included pork chops, steak, fish, and chicken. And since I’ve just described every menu in Chicago, maybe it wasn’t that surprising after all.

But, the food was fantastic. I had some four-cheese pasta dish with some chicken added to it. Now, the chicken was nothing to speak of, and a waste of five dollars, but the pasta was really good and nice and creamy. I was kind of hoping for a huge bowl of pasta, but it was just a small dish of it (which is good for me, since, like a dog, I’ll just keep eating no matter how much or how little is in front of me). I also got to try a couple of other dishes, thanks to the fact I had company with me, and that the pansies can’t finish a plate of food. I had a bite of the steak special. Yawzas. It was cooked in port wine and mushroom something-or-other. It was so soft and chewy and flavorful and tasty and satisfying and good. Then I had a couple of bites of the chicken, which was made in another kind of mushroom sauce, and was cooked perfectly and for sure better than my pasta. Let me just quickly add that I hate mushrooms, so for two of the dishes to be cooked with mushrooms and still be incredibly good and satisfying, well, that’s saying something.

The thing is, I’ve never heard anyone talk about Corosh. So, I just assumed it wasn’t that good, which is why I was so surprised at how good the food was.

Now, I feel compelled to mention what might be the best deal in Chicago. On Sundays they have an all you can eat brunch for $12. They have a buffet, but also have made-to-order eggs, French toast, and pancakes as part of the deal. Granted, I’ve never tasted the brunch, but based on how good the rest of the food was, I expect that it’s well worth the money. And if it isn’t, at least you’re not spending a fortune. DISCLAIMER: I’M A SUCKER FOR ANYTHING THAT INVOLVES THE WORDS “ALL YOU CAN EAT”. So take this paragraph with a grain of salt. Or a pinch of sugar.

Anyway, I also had the calamari for an appetizer. Just fine. Had a Caesar salad. Just fine. Also had a brownie sundae for desert. Just fine. Nothing special here, but nothing disappointing either.

I struggled a bit with the final rating. All the entrees I had should merit a chest bump pretty easily. But, the way I typically do the ratings isn’t just based on how the food tasted, it’s based on my crave factor. Are there times when I crave this restaurant? See, to get a perfect rating, or close to perfect, you have to be the kind of joint that I crave. And I don’t think this place is it, which is hard for me to say, because I really liked the food.

I had a conversation with a friend the other day about a place he loves to eat in his neighborhood. I checked it out and thought it was just OK. But, he agreed with me. He said he loves to eat there not because the food is great or out of this world, but because the food is always going to be good and never disappoint.

So I think that is where I put Corosh. The place is solid. If you eat there, you’ll be happy you did. But, you won’t think to yourself too often, “Man, I gotta go eat at Corosh.”

And my rating for a place that is simply solid? Fist bump. A good, solid fist bump.

Francesca's Forno

Ratings Guide:
Halfhand shake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Fone and fone – 0 stars
Manly-ass slap – ½ star



Restaurant: Francesca’s Forno
Location: 1576 N. Milwaukee Ave.


Mia Francesca has opened up another restaurant, this time in Wicker Park. Now, sadly I’ve never eaten at Mia Francesca, or any of its 714 offspring. From what I here, Mia Francesca is one of the best places to eat in the city, so, just warning you that my expectations were very high going in. Oh, one more disclaimer. I ate at Forno a week after it opened, when maybe they were still figuring things out. One last thing, you don’t care about any of the things I just mentioned, so on to the review.

Francesca Forno is located on the corner of Milwaukee and Damen (apparently in the old Soul Kitchen spot, where I never ate). Why does this matter? It doesn’t, but it makes for great people watching. The entire place is lined with windows, so when you sit and eat you can stare out of the windows and look at all the people on the streets, which there are many because of the location. This element is key when having dinner with friends who bore you or your in-laws.

The space is pretty cool. I love the décor, as it was super simple, with a hodge-podge of tables and chairs that made you feel like you were at your Italian grandmother’s place. They have it packed in pretty tightly, which I don’t mind, but if you have to go to the bathroom a lot, wear Depends, as getting in and out of your seat is a pain. Also, (and again, this might be because the place is new and hasn’t been fully decorated yet) the place couldn’t have been louder. The tin ceiling, no curtains and wood floors had everything echoing, making it hard to even hear your server.

Speaking of your servers, they are great. Super helpful, extremely nice, and you don’t have to speak Italian to understand what they are saying. We also spent a couple of minutes at the bar, and the bartenders were great. Or they were hitting on me. I’m not sure which.

The bar area is pretty simple, but they do have a small little space next to a big open window where you can sit on the window sill with a friend and enjoy a glass of wine, which is a pretty cool element.

But you don’t care about any of this. So, let’s talk about the food. Overall, it was very average. Again, they had just opened when I went there. Not trying to make excuses, but I expected better.

The apps were hit or miss. The prosciutto was awesome. Served on its own (I like it with melon, personally), it was cooked perfectly, and I had two giant pieces. It reminded me of bacon, which may have been why I loved it. We also got something they called cheese fondue, but it was essentially potatoes with a cream sauce over it. Kind of tasted like potato skins, and very average potato skins.

The entrées were also hit or miss, and mostly miss. The good was the Naked Ravioli. It’s basically ravioli stuffing minus the pasta shell. It’s also basically one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Seriously. Drizzled with olive oil, I ate half of it, and I wasn’t even the one who ordered it.

But it went down hill from there. I got some sort of fish. Can’t even remember what it was, that’s how forgettable it was. Someone else at the table got a different fish, and it was also pretty tasteless. Someone got this squid infused pasta. Now, I love fish, and even I had a tough time eating it. It was so incredibly fishy. I think it would have made a perfect side item, where you could enjoy one or two bites (which were really good) but would run out before you ate three or more bites (when you wanted to scrape your tongue with a piece of bread).

Oh, I almost forgot, they had the best butter. I’m a huge bread and butter guy. You could say it’s my bread and butter. Kind of like not being funny. Anyway, the butter was a jalapeno something-or-other. We ate two huge baskets of bread because of the butter. And when I say we, I mean me.

The other pleasant surprise was the prices. Really, really reasonable, but it was BYOB when I was there (which it won’t always be).

I guess that’s about it. Not sure where I stand on this place. I was very disappointed, but also satisfied enough to go back and give it another shot because of all the circumstances (just opened, etc…). They are planning on changing their menu every two to three weeks, which is also intriguing.

For now, until I go for a second time and make a more educated decision, I’m gonna give it a high-five with a manly ass slap.

Until next time, keep eating.