Every food critic I know has a “Cheers,” a place they tend to frequent when they’re not on the clock, typically because the food is familiar and the staff makes it easy. For years, my few nights off from professional grazing found me in the honey-lit dining room of this casual American restaurant with a handsome communal table running down the center and a canoe suspended from the rafters. Yeah, I glance at the menu, but at this point, I pretty much know I’ll be getting the wood-grilled pork chop or the fish of the day, flanked by some interesting accompaniments, or splitting the prime hamburger and a Caesar salad with my significant other. Call me a creature of habit. Dessert is either the most comforting buttermilk chocolate cake around or a book at Politics & Prose next door. My sole complaint, and the reason I’m inclined to “cheat” these days with Johnny’s Half Shell: Buck’s needs to woo me with some new tricks on its menu.
ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7uK3SoaCnn6Sku7G70q1lnKedZLOwu8NoaWlpY2R%2BcXuQbGabrZOgwG6u0aKloKtdmbavtc2gZJ2np6N6pq3RrZ9o