Restaurant review: Frank

Oh my heck, y'all. I really wanted to like Frank. Like, saving-our-first-trip-there-for-my-hot-dog-loving-brother's-visit like.

Maybe my wanting to like it is why I was unimpressed with Frank.

Photos to come later, but here's the rundown.

The Husband, Little Brother and I went on a Monday afternoon, well after your typical lunchtime. We walked in and got a table (#12!) with no wait.

The restaurant conversion (from Starlite) isn't totally completed yet, so there's an unfinished feel to the interior. Personally, I think they rushed the opening and, with plenty of bills to pay (I imagine), who could blame them?

We ordered our meals (two hot dogs with spicy mustard and relish, one jackalope and two beer-soaked brats with spicy mustard and kraut) and proceeded to wait. And wait. And wait.

We weren't in a hurry, per se, but we all were so. very. hungry. And the wait seemed a tid long considering what we ordered and that we were the only paying customers in the place.

Then the food arrived. It was fine. Really. Not mind-blowing and not "omg, I have to come back here asap." With the exception of the day-glo green relish (what the heck *was* that stuff?), it all tasted perfectly fine.

I suppose, if you're in the area and in need of a hot dog or brat, go ahead and stop by while they're open. I really can't put this on my "you must eat here" list, which is so sad because I really, really, really wanted to do so. Boo.

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