Disclaimer one, it was 1145 pm on a Saturday night when we got to Amsterdam and 84st. Number two, there was the kind of loud buzz upfront that I would have liked in my youth but the host moved us to a quiet rear table but the college reunion or some kind of reunification with great young people began expanding like Hitchcock's birds and i was jealous of them and a little crowded and louded out..the waiter apologized...and delivered everything in a kindly timely way. And much was good to great..dark tap cider shrimps on a spicy grit soupy bed and mac and cheese in an iron griddle, pickle slaw....fried chicken next time. The only sour note besides the delicious looking sour pickles was the grits side pot.
Watery and lumpy in a steel pot . Dickensian more than My old Kentucky home--ian. Someone in the crew said that happened sometimes. But it seemed like the only thing that needed quality control. Everything else from decor to beer selection to staff culture seemed right.
|And remember riding the ice flow across from ATO?|
|MORE?? You want more? (runny grits with lumps)|
|The grits sort of worked here because the shrimp liked them.|