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To begin with, I'm pleased to note there was, indeed, a lizard on premises. I can't attest to whether or not he was winking but he was chilling out and living a decent life. So, there's that. I'll also note that trying to get some food in you at brunch time on Sunday in Independence is a chore. In what could have been a political revolt, my family finally decided to stop driving around looking for pancakes and just.eat.something.
Winking Lizard, it was.
This is your standard sports bar so your expectations should begin and end with that. Because we'd been driving for quite some time and nerves were frayed, I was quick with my order. I started with an Arnold Palmer and settled on the Grilled Greek Salad. I know, I know. Salad at a sports bar? I'd been driving for way too long with relatives who were sniping at one another. Plus, I was trying to be mindful of my expanding gut. I had to think about my waistline. So, yes: salad. And, for a sports bar, Winking Lizard's salad game was decent: romaine topped with chicken breast, feta cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, green olives, ad roasted red peppers in Greek dressing (In this case, Italian dressing with feta crumbles. Yes, more feta). It was exactly what you would imagine it to be -- no better and no worse.
I will bet that to watch March Madness or anything other than Cleveland-area sports, Winking Lizard is a no-brainer. One of my relatives ordered onion rings and they were delicious. The sheer number of TVs demand that you pay attention to all of the sports. In a perfect world, I would have come here for some permutation of nachos, wings, burgers, and beer. That's what it's here for. But as a stopgap against intra-familial violence, it did the trick.
Come here for the sports. Use it wisely. Thanks, though, for being open. I owe my family's safety to you.
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