A recent weeknight we grabbed a seat at the patio—underneath one of the many fans—and began our feast with that old appetizer standby, fried calamari, only here they’re called calamari fries. But there was nothing standard about these fat, hearty strips of squid with a crisp crust. In visits past, we have thoroughly enjoyed hand-cut fries, served skins-on and heartily seasoned, with your choice of three sauces—roasted red pepper aioli, spicy aioli, curry chutney sauce, smoked tomato ranch, basil mayo, and loaded potato dip—because, let’s face it, all French fries need to be dipped.
Next up were two super sandwiches. The first was a grilled chicken breast, juicy and perfectly seasoned with salt and pepper, rosemary, Italian seasoning, and Old Bay, topped with a slice of Swiss, fresh lettuce and tomato, grilled red onions, and roasted red pepper aioli on a soft honey wheat bun. Drunken Steak Sandwich was a twist on a French dip; in this interpretation, strips of tender beef, caramelized onions, and soft goat cheese were tucked inside a soft French roll. Yes, there was au jus, but I didn’t even bother with that, because it would have masked the goat cheese. (Note to the chef Juan Aguirre: you don’t need the au jus). All this and we satisfied our craving for a cold beer. But we have to admit, despite the impressive selection of beers, from areas all over the world, we stuck to Coors Lite. Don’t judge us.
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