Some tasty nuggets from his review:
A glass case [at the cafe-slash-wine bar] serves as a temporary prison for aging pastries and tragic snacks.
The “crispy shrimp” have the limp, expired quality of tempura that’s been doing laps all night at a conveyor-belt sushi place.
The thicker crust around a farmhouse pork terrine, served with a chill that brought out its Spammy qualities, is on its way to being cooked. The very, very thick football of crust encasing beef Wellington is cooked only on the surface; deep inside, where it meets the tenderloin, is a mass of wet, gluey dough. This costs $95 and will serve two people, both of whom had better like the taste of raw flour.
Atmosphere: Cafe in the front, bar in the middle, dining in the back. Desperation all around. Servers often seem to be hiding panic; you want to ask them to blink twice if they’re being held against their will.