Saint (or Sinner) and Second

 

We started off optimistically enough with cocktails, which took so long to arrive that I began to wonder if the bartenders had to distill the gin themselves. Once they landed, we paired them with the onion soup — promised to be savory but instead tasted like French onion’s sugary cousin. Dessert soup, anyone?

I ordered a burger, which desperately needed pickles, and fries that were supposed to be crispy but instead arrived lukewarm, like they’d hit snooze on the fryer. My friend lucked out with the branzino and actually enjoyed it, but our husbands weren’t so lucky. Their steaks were clearly switched at birth: Mr. Rare-Only got a well-done hockey puck, while our other friend cut into a steak that was practically still mooing. Watching two grown men swap plates mid-meal was the least appetizing thing I’ve seen since airline food.

The service was shaky, with long waits for drinks, and to top it all off, the restroom floor was so slippery I briefly considered lacing up skates. I mentioned it to the manager, who hurriedly put up wet floor signs — but still, not exactly the ambiance you hope for in a dinner out.

Overall, Saint & Second gave us a night full of surprises — just not the good kind. Between dessert soup, surprise steak swaps, and impromptu restroom ice skating, I don’t think we’ll be returning.