We went here for dinner last Saturday night, and first impressions: this place is huge — and there’s a bar right in the middle, like the sun around which all good times orbit.

Let’s talk food. The Coconut Shrimp? Absolute rockstars. Crispy, sweet, savory perfection. Honestly, I could write sonnets about them. If I could do it all over again, I’d order three plates and call it dinner.

The fried calamari and shrimp tempura roll were fine — not bad, but not stealing any spotlight. The fish and chips had nice fish, but the fries? They gave up before they even got to the table (sog city).

The Chilean Sea Bass was hiding under a flood of chimichurri that tasted like someone got overly excited with the citrus. Even the poor green beans couldn’t escape the downpour. The salmon leaned a little too far into the “healthy” side of dry, but redemption came with the Mexican Grill with seared shrimp — huge, flavorful, and made for sharing (or hoarding, no judgment).

Service was a bit… let’s say, “laid-back.” Waiting for a fork felt like waiting for a plot twist in a slow-burn Netflix series.

Would I come back? Jury’s out. But those Coconut Shrimp live rent-free in my head, and honestly, I’m not mad about it.