"The only reason that I tasted any of what I ordered was that I had not eaten anything prior to its arrival at the table. But, the whole thing started when a couple who came up after us went in and got seated, I asked what's going on. She said we weren't on the list. She nicely assured me that we would go next, no matter what. I will always wonder if our name had been ignored, crossed off in error or pronounced incorrectly and/or so softly that we didn't hear it as we patiently waited on the sidewalk for 15-20 minutes. We followed the blonde-haired guy with the soft-shaped handlebar mustache inside and out onto the sort of enclosed patio. He walked so quickly that we didn't get even a wisp of any ambience the regular room might have. I immediately noticed that a group of eight who had gone inside way before still had not ordered, and then that a group of four came in to be seated after us. I also noticed that the couple who had been seated right ahead of us (who had walked up to the door after us) had not ordered. So I decided if either of those two large groups had their orders taken before us, we'd excuse ourselves and leave. That didn't happen, thank goodness, so we ordered. I got the two-egg breakfast with bacon and substituted a pancake for the toast it comes with rosemary-garlic roasted potatoes and honey-cured bacon. He got a hamburger and substituted the potatoes for potato chips. A $10 burger with potato chips! He also ordered a Coke which took forever to arrive and then was taken by the guy who seated us to the table with the eight people. He blamed his mistake on the fact that he was still sort of new. Good grief. New folks ought to try even harder. He certainly had a bias at the front door, walking out and looking and making eye contact only to his right or straight south on NW 23rd, as he announced names. With city traffic sounds all around on a typically busy Saturday, he should have been louder and looked all directions. The food came quicker than I thought it would. I knew I was in trouble when I cut into the pancake. I've never felt that texture in a pancake. He knew he was in trouble when he saw the grease on the plate beneath the burger and the grease-soaked brioche bun. Both of us ate because we were very hungry, but neither one of us enjoyed it very much. The honey-cured bacon can only be described as fried to a practically-burned-crisp. The potatoes were tasteless no rosemary, no garlic flavors anywhere. I'm the reason we stopped there I’d walked by before and seen the crowds, so I figured it must be good. Why else would so many people be going there? Well, I'm here to tell you, I will never again be lured into a place by a crowd of strangers. I'll rely on actual people that I know who eat at establishments before I decide to give them a try. Finally, I didn't think it was possible to find such bad food in Portland at a local establishment. I've been proven wrong, woefully wrong."
