The bloody mary was chock full of flavorless horseradish and devoid of any vodka whatsoever. Just because it's 9:30 in the morning doesn't mean I don't want a good drink. It was V-8 mixed w/ sawdust.
Menu: boring, duplicative and pricey. We split the salmon hash: two poached eggs over spinach and baked salmon with potatoes - topped with some sour cream (why?) and maybe hollandaise too. I have blanked it out. It was served in an ice-cold skillet. Who the hell wants something served in a skillet, especially one in which the dish wasn't even cooked? The eggs were perfectly poached but the spinach was just frozen nuked Green Giant (tm). The salmon was warmed-over baked salmon, barely better than the canned stuff. Undercooked chunks of potato were mixed with overcooked sauteed onion.
Where was the love?
The place wasn't crowded but various waitstaff kept hovering around trying to clear the table even though we were clearly in no rush to leave; talking and lingering over the bloody sawdustsers and picking at the iron skillet treasures. Finally, we gave up and asked for the check. It came. I inserted a credit card into the leather holder. That is when time stopped. It took FOREVER before we were finally releasef from that chrome and white naugahyde prison.