Oh honey, let me paint you a picture...
You walk in and it's…read morelike*BAM*you've been emotionally transported to grandma's house... but not your grandma, someone else's grandma. The one with aggressively dim chandeliers, dusty landscape paintings, and family photos that may or may not be watching you judge the bread basket. It's nostalgic, it's confusing, it's a little haunted, but she's committed to the bit, and honestly? Respect.
This place has been around forever, and you can feel it. Same recipes, same energy, same "we're not changing for anybody" attitude. Iconic. Stubborn. A little chaotic.
Now let's get into my evening of sacrifice.
I ordered the chicken Marsala with homemade noodles and a salad, because I believe in indulgence AND patience,and yes, girl, it took a minute. But I sat there, sipping my drink, minding my business, growing spiritually.
Now, let's talk food.
I ordered the chicken Marsala with homemade noodles and a salad because I believe in treating myself and testing my patience. Yes, it took a minute, but darling, I wanted it, so I stayed seated and emotionally stable (for once).
Meanwhile, I'm ALSO ordering a small pepperoni pizza for my couch-goblin of a friend who was like, "I refuse to leave my emotional support sofa... but bring me food." The drama. The audacity. The hunger. Don't worry, I absolutely ate first. I have boundaries and self-respect.
Service started a little... interpretive. I think Tom was supposed to care about me, but spiritually he was elsewhere. Enter Cecily, stage left, who picked up the situation and said, "don't worry babe, I got you." and she DELIVERS. We love a redemption arc.
Now THE dish: chicken Marsala.MISS THING. Would you just look at her?! Rich, a little spicy, melt-in-your-mouth goodness with mushrooms living their best life. Paired with those homemade noodles and that sauce? I was ready to propose. It has to be the best thing on the menu. I refuse to believe otherwise.
The salad? ...she tried.Not offensive, not impressive. Just... there. It existed. It participated. The spicy Italian dressing had a little kick (because apparently I crave chaos), but the tomato was wilted like last night's bad decisions. And the bread? Good, but not "grandma woke up at 5am and baked this with love" good.
Overall?A chaotic little experience wrapped in nostalgia and butter.
Final verdict: 3.5 stars.
Final thoughts?
Would I return? For that Marsala? I'd crawl back in heels.