When you walk into the Barking Frog, there is the ...

When you walk into the Barking Frog, there is the massive trunk of a tree standing in the middle of the driveway. It's beautiful.

I'm beginning to think that tree was actually a guest many centuries ago who was told it would be 'just a few more minutes' so many times that they took root, lived, died, and were hollowed out by centuries passing.

Is the restaurant beautiful? Yes. Is the wine list nice? Yes. Is the service at best slow, and better characterized as grossly negligent? Yes.

Were the pancakes any better than the diner the day before? No. Was the cheese on the order of huevos rancheros melted? No. Was it possible that it was solid again because it took an hour from ordering our food to food delivery? Yes.

I feel -bad, I guess?- for the staff, because it cannot all possibly be their fault. But at the same time there is no sense of urgency on their part for you, no checking in to see how you're doing.

I'll never eat here again, because I don't want to die waiting for a meal.