"It’s true what they say: One man’s fine-dining destination is another man’s dive. The Wedgwood Broiler is from another time, when you had a hidden bar in the back of your swanky steakhouse, so folks of all ages and lifestyles could dine comfortably without a view of the winos. (Today, they just plunk the bar right in the middle of the dining room without shame.) This frozen-in-amber neighborhood jewel opened in the mid-1960s when the Camelot thing was chic — there used to be a full, real suit of armor standing next to the entrance — and you can still spot little medieval touches in the doors and the furniture. The retired set still hangs out in the restaurant half of the building, where dinner service is always chockablock, but the move is to get your prime rib and Caesar salad with Cheez-Its on it in the shitass lounge, at one of their big circular booths that it’s really hard to climb in and out of. It’s cool, though; after a couple of their stiff pours, you’re gonna be here all night anyway." - Meg van Huygen, Mark DeJoy, Eater Staff
