Did this restaurant just save my relationship? Haha—just kidding (kind of). Listen, I’m in the final boss level of pregnancy—rage-bear wanting to go into full hibernation cocoon fully mode, hormones high, cravings higher, and zero tolerance for sad food. Like many pregnant creatures, I require...
Read MoreDid this restaurant just save my relationship? Haha—just kidding (kind of). Listen, I’m in the final boss level of pregnancy—rage-bear wanting to go into full hibernation cocoon fully mode, hormones high, cravings higher, and zero tolerance for sad food. Like many pregnant creatures, I require only the finest to grace these taste buds. Bland? Basic? Absolutely not. Not on my watch.
Date night rolls around and I, in a rare moment of surrender, let baby daddy choose the spot. We live in a food desert so the options are... limited to say the least. I usually throw down in the kitchen, and with gas prices and groceries being what they are—why pay $100 to cry into a dry entrée? NOT IN THIS ECONOMY.
First spot? Big fat NOPE. (Let’s just say their ambiance screamed “meh” and the food matched.) So we bounce—and that’s when the magic happened. We walk up to the second place (which I’m both excited and hesitant to name because I so want to gatekeep this hidden treasure). Immediate vibe shift. Mood lighting poppin’, the tables buzzing, everyone inside looked like they were living their best lives. I felt it in my soul—we had found the one.
We were seated quickly (thank you, reservation gods), and right away—FILTERED TAP WATER was offered. Hello, hydration station! The menu? Absolute fire. Every. single. item. looked like it was about to rock my world. I was READY.
Now Slater—our server—deserves his own paragraph. A pure gem. If “menu fairy godparent” was a role, he’s got it on lock. Over 15 years in the service industry myself, and I can say with confidence—Slater gets it. He knew that menu like it was his love language and you could tell he genuinely loves the food. That's always the greenest of flags.
Food-wise: I went in on oysters (been craving them for weeks), the Japanese Hamachi special and the Baby Romaine Salad. Baby daddy ordered the local calamari “new style,” a glass of Sauv Blanc (yes, I had some sips, mind ya business), and the 8oz American Wagyu Flat Iron with potato croquette, veal demi, and brown butter. And then—just when I thought I couldn’t be more impressed—we finished with the rosemary panna cotta. I don't even have the words. Light, floral, subtly sweet—a moment of silence for how delicate and divine it was. Truly the perfect ending.
Y’ALL. I WAS SEEING STARS. ✨ Everything was seasoned perfectly, portioned right, beautifully plated, and served with flow. Water refilled, plates cleared, service smooth like butter. The ambiance? 10/10. Music? 10/10. Clean bathrooms (you know that matters)? 10/10. Food? 100/10.
We went back for brunch—per Slater’s rec—and guess what? Brunch was also THAT GIRL. We ordered the "Chips n Dip," which is a fun twist on the classic—house-made potato chips with trout roe, crème fraîche, chives, and lemon. YES. Garlic bread? Bomb. My daughter ordered the "Sea Biscuits," which is Trani’s take on biscuits and gravy, but instead of gravy it's freakin' clam chowder—iconic behavior. And baby daddy and I ordered the Buttermilk Fried Chicken and French Toast, which was mind-blowing. I had leftovers, and when I say they reheated like magic the next day, I mean that. I even had a few cold bites before heating it up and it was STILL crunchy. Sorcery, I tell you.
Only critique? Bar tables could use some purse hooks. That’s literally it. Otherwise, this spot has entered the hall of fame. I want to shout about it from rooftops but I also don’t want to fight y’all for a table… so let’s just say, if you know, you know.
GO. IMMEDIATELY.
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