the tin table holds nostalgic value for me; not because i’ve been there before, but because of the neighboring burlesque school i attended last summer. somehow i managed through six-weeks of glitter and seduction to never have stopped in for a drink (after all, oddfellows is right down the stairs), but alas i made my grand entrance almost a year later. i felt somewhat underwhelemd when presented with a fairly standard fernet cocktail (denoted by prototypical orange twist). however, overshadowing my conventional libation was a colossal carrot top tower of shoestring frites dusted with truffle salt, an uplifting steal for only $3. and what better place than here to give you the advice i’ve shared with all my close boy [space] friends: truffles and truffle-related flavourings are the food equivilent of sex. true story. as a guy, you may not get the hype, but trust me, just like the fastest way to a guy’s heart is through their stomach, the fastest way to unrobe a girl of worth is via truffled [insert any food item here] and a cocktail+. after all, why do you think there’s a burlesque school next door?