This opulent cafe, opened in early summer by Dale Wamstad (Del Frisco’s), proposed to add an all-American dining option to a much-neglected corner of Richardson. What arrived instead feels both overconceived and underwhelming: a two-story design hodgepodge of hot-air-balloon-shaped chandeliers, looming artwork, vinyl tablecloths, and hundreds of red-and-green LED lights that swoop, discotheque style, across diners’ faces. Likewise, the menu consists of a blind-man’s mix of appetizers (flatbreads, sushi, onion rings, and grilled quail’s nest—grilled quail served on a bed of crushed potato chips), followed by an equally chaotic mix of entrées. We were so surprised that any establishment would feature chopped beefsteak with grilled onions (and charge $14.50 for it) that we had to order it. The entrée arrived unironically, a disc of ground beef held together by grease and fear—a sad homage to the Greek diners of the 1970s. As we puzzled through the rest of our meal, which included undercooked flatbread, oppressively dressed salad, and a wildly overpriced ($24.50) fried-fish fillet, Wamstad stood nearby, alternately browbeating a server and slapping a rolled newspaper on the counter near a frightened-looking line cook. At long last, we ordered a slice of wedding cake to go and watched as a server used her fingers to push the dessert into a too-small container. Needless to say, by the time she ate some crumbs off the cake plate, licked the icing off her fingers, and snapped the to-go box shut, we were halfway out the door.

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