Alex K.
Yelp
I don't really care if this place is incredibly hipster-ish or not, if the place is filled to the brim with them. In fact, I generally like hipster places. I often dig their creativity, their guts. This place has creativity, has guts. I like that. But it just ain't that good, and that can't be forgiven.
You know what they say about first impressions? It should be a big deal when a half dozen people, a veritable gaggle, enter a restaurant on a slow Sunday evening. I don't mean that I expect a red carpet. But I do mean that I expect a restaurant with a "Please Wait To Be Seated" sign to notice us within the first minute, or two, or three of our arrival and either direct us to seating or else tell us seating was unavailable. Well, seating WAS available, the bar was empty, and I still had to embark on a quest for a waitress. Quest accomplished, +300 experience points.
We ordered drinks off of a wide and reasonably sized beer and wine list. Look, if a place serves Paulaner for $5.00 a bottle, it can't do much wrong in my book... unless it's also out of that Paulaner. So I navigated the menu and found another hefeweizen I didn't too much mind drinking. It wasn't the same, but I was sitting outside on a Sunday evening with great company. I didn't mind.
Between us, a whole bunch of different-styled sandwiches were ordered. Thinking ahead, one of my party asked for separate checks, and the waitress sighed in relief. "Thanks for telling me beforehand," she said. "That makes it a lot easier." So I ordered a burger with bacon and roasted red peppers and readied myself to nosh on an old-fashioned American dinner.
The burgers are served on an oven-toasted kaiser bun with onions, lettuce, and tomatoes heaped to the side as many establishments now serve them. (As an aside, I do sincerely dislike this practice. Unintegrated into the sandwich, they're add-ons, apparently unnecessary.) However, rarely in a case like this would you see the sandwich nailed shut, a toothpick like a stake holding the sandwich together. While ignoring the lettuce, tomatoes, and onions, the roasted red peppers (sopping wet) and the bacon hadn't been ignored.
Indeed, the bacon wasn't overlooked. Overcooked and overly long, two slices of bacon had been placed in a crosshatch pattern over top of the rest with the toothpick John Henry-ed through the middle. I found myself opening the burger and cracking the strips in half, nestling them back under the lid. I eschewed tooth picking, but I almost wish I hadn't. Enough grease from the burger had pooled to sop the bottom half of the bun, soaking my fingers. The toothpick, it seems, would have made things less messy. Have I even commented on the fact that the burger meat itself was unseasoned?! Even Severus Snape would award ten points for Gryffindor for vanquishing that beast.
So the thing was served with fries. They were okay, forgettable. I munched a few idly as my group and I chatted about the problems of our day. Whatever.
A few other concerns about service: 1) No one checked to refill water, to check if more libations were needed except when serving food, throughout the entirety of our 90-minute stay. 2) The employees demonstrated a genuine fear of their supervisor and stated so enough that it became, in gest, a recurring theme of my party's discussions the entire night. 3) When the check arrived, it had not in fact been separated.
Terrible service and absurdly poorly executed food mean result in a firm conviction that I won't be back here for food. For drinks? Possibly. Situated in a happening neighborhood and boasting a nice selection of brews (including that elusive Paulaner), I suppose there is a redeeming feature. Two stars.
