Enjoyed dinner at Frank the other night. It was as cold as a meat fridge inside, but I think this was a passing glitch. Service was top-drawer, but our server's voice topped off at 4 dB. Not sure if I can hold this against him, but honestly it was weird. My lobster ravioli and veal sweetbreads was decent, but the portions are preciously small; one of the pratfalls of expensive dining I suppose.
Obligatory Title Pun: FRANKLY speaking, a tad on the expensive side.
Menu Readability: Stark, two-pager, wonderfully readable.
Need to mention: The atmosphere is actually quite cool. The work of Patterson Ewen and other artists adorn the walls.
What this place teaches me about myself: I don't hate EVerything with Frank Gehry's name on it.