Three choice quotes:
No one ever asks me before they open a business in this town. If they did I would have said “No gastropubs because they’re for yuppie douche bags. Now make out with your twin sister and let me videotape it.” But they opened Quinn’s anyway.
...So we had to order something more substantial. Like the brandade ($7). Brandade (not to be confused with a Band- Aid) is mashed salt cod. Sometimes it’s mashed with potatoes. Sometimes not. Quinn’s version was combined with potatoes and lots of rosemary. The salt cod adds a rich pelagic essence to the potatoes, and while it does taste fishy, the fishiness is muted and distant and salty, like a sea breeze. Damn tasty. The brandade was served with a plate of Quinn’s house made potato chips. These were a fucking revelation: easily the best chips I’ve ever eaten in my life, and I’ve been pretty stoned.
Some of the menu items are REALLY good, but others are as lame as someone who admits they own a Labradoodle. If you live on Capitol Hill and can stand the idea of eating at a gastropub, go to Quinn’s. But don’t go now: wait a couple of weeks until after the hipsters and “foodies” (AKA bored old people) have gotten over this place and you can actually get a table.
I'm his new #1 fan. Read it and laugh, fellow "bored old people."