I was cranky and hungry when I walked in. I groaned. The restaurant appears to be a pre-Victorian house converted into a restaurant. It's an odd clash of pretentiousness and hominess. Not my usual fare. But hunger and the fact I brought guests with me convinced me to sit down anyway. I'm so glad we did.
The menu was short (a good thing) and even though the items seemed a bit odd (to me), the food was absolutely amazing. I don't give 5-star ratings. This food was better than 5-star. The waiter, who's name might have been Erik, was perfect.
The hot cranberry muffins that were a precursor to the meal should be more coveted than Helen of Troy. I don't normally care for muffins. I could lock myself in a room with nothing but those muffins for the rest of my life and die happy!
The rest of the meal was as good. My tablemates and I hatched a plan to kidnap the chef and make them cook for us forever.
As we pondered dessert, Erik came back with a second helping of the muffins... may you be forever blessed.
The bill was a bit higher than I normally pay for dinner, but I'd happily skip two meals somewhere else and come back for the exceptional food and service at Quivey's Grove.