N3RD

Alright, so this place is in the 'hood.

We've been a few times.

Brunch and dinner...

Which aughta cover at least some of the menu, right.

I am gonna come right out and tell you that this place made me feel like an adult.

Not in that it made me feel old, or that everybody around me was much younger...

No, North Third feels like what I imagined being a grown-up was like when I was eleven.

The front room has a fair amount of goofy shit hanging all over the place...

You know, the way casual restaurants require goofy shit on the walls, they have that covered.

It is pretty bright, it has a bar and some stuff.

You can sit outside, but it has been head melting hot here so I can't speak to that.

The back room has weirder goofy shit and some art, including a giant painting of some boobs.

There is a second bar and a mix of tables...

It is darker, louder and maybe funner.

(Yes, I know funner is improper English. Go write your own post about the decay of language if you are bothered by that. Funner works there.)

The menu is all over the place, which works for me.

It only works because they seem to put out good food, without some high minded theme.

The theme might just be make it all well...

North Third seems to be geared towards a groupof people meeting up for a drink and a nosh.

Lots of little snacks, some salads and some big-ass plates to help fend off the drinks...

Service seems right on, or at least very earnest.

Steve, one of the bartenders, has an accent...

People love to listen to dudes with accents talk, right?

Either way, the food comes fast and the glasses stay full.

So anyway, back to the grown up part...

I am sitting at the bar, gnawing away at a plate of steak and frites (which was rather nicely prepared).

I gulp down some old grape juice, so that I might try to continue my conversation with KVC about how good her crispy skinned salmon is...

Loudly, because there is some of my favorite music blasting so loudly that chatting needs to be timed for the slow parts of songs.

While twisting around, to check on the giant titty painting...

It hits me.

This is exactly what I imagined going out for a grown-up dinner would be like, as a juvenile.

That is a pretty good thing.