We had dinner here last Sunday night with another couple and left feeling… politely full. The food was okay, with some definite highlights and a few head-scratchers.

Our server wasn’t exactly bursting with warmth—more “neutral energy” than hospitality—but we powered through. The menu is on the smaller side, though we did manage to find things we liked. One friend asked for an Arnold Palmer or iced tea and was told, “We’re out of iced tea.” Full stop. No backup plan, no hot-tea-over-ice workaround. Just vibes. We pivoted to glasses of Sancerre instead, which thankfully did not disappoint.

We all ordered the Caesar salad with romaine hearts, Venice Steakhouse dressing, a generous snowfall of Reggiano Parmesan, white anchovies, and brioche croutons. This was the star—salty, crunchy, and very much worth ordering again.

For mains, we shared the 12oz West Aged Rib Cap steak, which arrived with a steak knife that appeared to have lived a full life already. Cutting it was more of a workout than expected. The 10oz Prime Sirloin Baseball Steak was better in flavor and texture, though still paired with another dull knife (commitment to the theme). The Mary’s chicken with arugula and Dijon mustard jus was solid and dependable—no knife gymnastics required.

On the side front, the scalloped Yukon gold potatoes with garlic, thyme, and Gruyère were rich and comforting, though a little heavy on the thyme. A gentle hand would’ve gone a long way.

We skipped dessert, but the butterscotch pot de crème caught our eye and feels like a “next time” situation—because there’s always room for butterscotch.

Overall: some good bites, some dull moments (literally), and a meal that was fine—but not life-changing.