Barf. I couldn't remember if this was ok or not, so we went in. Warning #1- no managers on the floor. Warning #2- packed with tourists. Warning #3- laminated table covers. But did we flee? Oh, nooooo, we're too nice. So we ate. We ate French onion soup with wonder bread in the bottom. We ate $25 bouillabaise that was a lot of fish ends floating in Swansons hungryman meatball gravy. We ate the worst meal of the last 12 months and paid dearly for it too. I forgot there were better places to go over in Eastport; what a costly omission it ended up being. Only bright spot was a decent Macon Villages that accidently found it's way onto an otherwise moribund, brand-focused winelist.