Italian diner. Maybe I should even be wondering if the owner and his brother were playing cards with the Italian mafia in the basement.

The restaurant was quite empty, which I attributed to the late afternoon and snowy weather, yet for some reason I sat alone in this room for several minutes, without seeing another human being, even the hostess had disappeared from her perch as quickly as she had appeared when I entered. The ticking time seemed to pass by slowly while sitting in what felt like a stranger’s home, but finally

my waiter appeared and introduced himself. I asked him some questions I had about the menu, but he was unable to answer them and even seemed unwilling to try to find the answer for me from someone else who worked there. I ordered my usual Italian fare default: chicken parmesan.

The side salad arrived promptly, but the House Italian dressing did not have good balance of oil and vinegar (too much vinegar). My chicken parmesan was also disappointing; the edges of the chicken were dry and hard, and not enough cheese had been melted