Hey—they’re chefs, not logistics phD’s. Just make us dinner and all is forgiven.
TanakaSan/Assembly Hall/Home Remedy Triangle: I’ve been to this delish one-stop grocery-restaurant-coffee-shop-juice-bar-florist a dozen times and still can’t tell the waiting areas from the lobbies from the café seats from the chairs for sale…and do I have to check in with a host? And what goes on in that loft?
Macrina: Stunning pastries; super chaotic line setup---is this the line for paying? For ordering? Is this a line at all? And why am I giving my order twice?
Canlis: Mysteries abound. How do I enter the parking lot without getting rear-ended on Aurora? And how did that valet remember my car without a claim ticket?
The Pink Door: So it's behind a door. A pink one.
The Staple and Fancy/Walrus and Carpenter/Chippy’s Triangle: The most visible signs in front of this high-profile trifecta read “Kolstrand Mfg. Co.” and “Marine Hardware.” OK…right…there’s the sign for Walrus and Carpenter—right in front of Chippy’s. Whose most visible sign just says FISH.
Tsukushinbo: The Japantown hole-in-the-wall has no sign at all. (Hint: It’s on Main, between a design shop and the Kubota Building.) Makes the Pink Door look lit up with flashing strobes.
MistralKitchen: Many’s the diner who thought they were going for a normal dinner at this beautiful multi-chambered restaurant—and somehow wound up with the ka-ching special in the prix-fixe Jewel Box or, gaaaaah, Chef’s Table. Know where you’re agreeing to sit.