We walked in for brunch yesterday (the planned bushwhack hike was giving us no views in the fog). The place was filling up, but we were seated instantly.
The only way that is likely to happen is if you don't drop in for dinner on the weekend. This place is known, for someplace so small and deceptively out of the way, and the wait time on a Saturday night should prove that to you. But the food. The closest I have come to dying from sheer eyes-bigger-than-stomach stuffedness was here. One of the best brunches I ever had in my life was yesterday. Devils Backbone Vienna Lager helps with that. So do eggs that are the dictionary definition of "over hard" and so does sausage and hash browns that know supporting roles and play them well. So does attentive service. So do attractive blond tables and chairs and plain overall vibe.
If you don't like this spot, eating out may not be your thing. Busy and yet relaxed. The day took an unexpectedly wrong turn for us; the Grille set things right. Not the first time the Grille has set things right with me.
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