River Merrimack Bar and Grouch

So I walk into the place, up the stairs, wave to David Hall - "Hi, David Hall!" - and shake hands with Mr. Teche, the owner. At least I think that's how his name is spelled.

I ask Mr. T if Dennis Metrano, Port Planet contact, is there yet and he tells me "no," but to look for a man with a white beard. Complimentary wine and beer at the bar, he tells me.

I walk over to the bar.

So how long have I been in the place? A minute?

"I'll have a glass of sauvignon blanc," I say to one of two women behind the bar.

She looks at me as if I've asked for a baby elephant. "Ihavepinotgrigio - and chardonnay, on the house," she barks at me.

I look at her quizzically, because I can't tell if it's both wines on the house, or just the chardonnay, from the way she said it.

She repeats herself and snaps, "'on the house' means 'free.'"

"Yeah, I know what 'on the house' means," I say with a smile. She turns away.

When she turns back to me, a few seconds later, I tell her I'll have the pinot grigio. She pours and plunks the glass down in front of me, sans napkin or smile.

And the whole experience is ruined for me. But I can also say that, aside from the first hors d'ouevres, which was fresh fig wrapped in prosciutto, and the bruschetta (which was OK), the food was mediocre.

Well ... Triple D, who had just pulled into her yard as I was leaving, warned me that she had gone there last night and it was a disaster (although she said the calamari was good).

I may give it another chance, but I probably won't.