Entry #2 A’Town Bistro, Anacortes

Location: 418 Commercial Ave, Anacortes, WA 98221

Fare: Up scale and diverse comfort food with a dash of hipster pretention

Correspondent: Lorien edelweiss Frey (pronounced Fry)

Brief personal description: Goofy, Slightly Autistic ( her words not mine)

A’Town Bistro and I got off on the wrong foot, no not my goutfoot thankfully, I’m speaking metaphorically not of any particular cankled heel. Upon entering we were asked if we had a reservation, a perturbing personal pet peeve, primarily punctuated by an obvious quantity of available space, now I understand that I require a four top table at a minimum and am far better suited to a six top, but this should not require prior warning, and even if it did no restaurant can claim that I do not apply ample announcement of approach in the form of shaking floorboards prior to my arrival, and outside of this the idea of any eatery turning me away when amongst the many cows I have been compared to, a cash cow is the second most common (I bare a striking resemblance to a Chianina bull), space will be made for me and I will take up every square inch of it.

Were this the only social concord broken by the Bistro, it would have been forgiven as small calves under the belt, a triflyl really, but they followed it up with a dreadful act of barbarism not soon forgot by any properly civilized man, they advertised scallops on they’re menu, and upon ordering them revealed their vile deception, they were out of scallops. I know, I know, dear readers truly horrid to conjure the image of Neptune’s tantamount textured treasure, and then rip the fantasy form within my cushioned grasp, I would have stormed out, or quaked out as it were (my heated gate is a two on any seismic scale), but the deceptive rapscallions had an ace up their sleeve as duplicitous types often do, a scotch egg, I can never hold a grudge when scotch eggs are on the line, to trade oceanic ivory delight for soft boiled gold is not small feat, but the strongest will prevail, and the egg was very fine, as was the plate of duck confit that followed it to oblivion. though my heart will ache evermore for what could have been, I can not deny the quality of the fare served, a delightful consolation in my time of mourning.

The atmosphere is that upscale masquerading as casual that has become harder to spot since lens less glasses and curled mustaches fell out of style in the early 2010s, that shouldn’t be seen as a criticism however, the soft lighting and well manufacture atmosphere marks this as a prime date location for those with lesser carnal desires than my own, the food will impress and the price though above baseline won’t pauperize anyone even if they’re not quite as fiscally voluptuous as your truly. I will not critique the service as I may be biased by their skullduggerus actions, but I recall it being prompt aside from its faults in presentation.