Ate in the pub side, aka "The Plucky", and am sad that I did. We ordered the octopus carpaccio...they say that an octopus can cry, and I would too if I knew I were going to be served up resembling linoleum covered in olive oil. The tuna tartar seemed like it had been put through a blender and could be smelled two seats down. The steak frites had to be returned as it could not be cut with the knife provided. The replacement order of Griggstown chicken came out undercooked...but by then we'd had enough. The menu looks as though it's feeling the effects of reduced margins, and it's starting to show. Done with that joint.