Let’s start off by saying this place is run by The Three Stooges. Actually, we have no idea if there are three of them, but the level of ineptitude is shockingly Stooge-like. The night we were there, they booked a party of about twenty-five and tried to stick them out on this porch right behind our table. The problem? It was about three degrees outside, and the porch wasn’t covered. As they prepped the porch for these unfortunate people, they kept opening the door and letting the freezing air blow into the dining room. While we were right next to the door and received the majority of the arctic blast, I looked around and saw the other diners wrapping themselves in their coats. Of course the large party tried to sit out there for about two seconds, and came filing back into the restaurant pissed off and cold. It was a disaster. Anyway, enough about that. I actually enjoyed my beef ribs. Unfortunately, I was alone in my praise of the food. Almost to a person (nobody else had the ribs), our party of ten or so disliked their meals. That really means a lot when you take into account the fact everyone was drinking pitcher after pitcher of margarita (usually this kills the taste buds and makes even the worst food tolerable). Oh, and these pitchers were somewhere in $40-$50 range a piece. Holy shit, what a rip! And these weren’t kegs of margarita, they were smallish plastic containers filled with five dollars worth of tequila, thirty cents of margarita mix and maybe a splash of lime juice (maybe). It must be the damn ice that’s so expensive. So we get the bill, and the thing is astronomical. Let’s recap: we got mediocre to poor food, watered-down margaritas, bad service and froze our asses off. And for this we get the pleasure of shelling out a bunch of our hard-earned cash. No thanks. [MF]
143 Spring St.