Fried Olives, italian sausage, aioli

Rule #1 when visiting a restaurant.

Go there somewhat hungry.

Don’t gorge yourself on TWO sandwiches just hours before simply because they were each half price and your coupon ends today and why not get two cuz you’re a little piggy.

“Show me how the little piggys eat!”

Mercato is fine. Just fine.

The kale crostini was the standout. Really great flavors.

Everything else was…fine.

Tuna tartare was great except for the gallon of salt someone used.

Perhaps an army of slugs had just attacked the kitchen staff and our meal was in the crossfires?

The burrata with roasted grapes was tasty but there was nothing to bind the dish together.

There was some burrata.

And there was some grapes.

And they just happened to be hanging out at the same playground together.

“Don’t look at us” they say “We don’t really know each other that well”

The discontinued speaking because my acid trip wore off.

The BBQ Quail was disappointing. For $16 bucks, I’d love to have more than one bite of meat per person. That was, once we found the meat on our little roasted sparrow.

Our server was awesome, I hope he isn’t pissed at the review.

“Dude, it’s not my restaurant and no one knows who the eff you are, anyways.”

Wow, that’s harsh. Way harsh, Ty.

Oh, one more thing before you go. The only available reservation was at 6:00 pm.

Fine, we’ll play old for the night.

So, they lead us to the tiny corner seats and apparently two other couples had also been banished to the 6:00 punishment corner as well.

While sitting in Time Out, we notice that very few folks seem to arrive to dine at Mercato for a good hour and a half.

Why on earth are they cramming us next to strangers when there are a half dozen empty seats right next to us where we would happily sit and not be privy to awkard first dates or riveting conversations about allergies.

We all confided in each other about the 6:00 reservation time thing. “Yeah, I thought that was weird!” one gal said.

In the end, we had all arrived strangers and departed…still strangers (having no desire to speak to one another again) but having bonded over our mutual love of complaining about stuff.

9077 Santa Monica Blvd
West Hollywood, CA 90069
(310) 859-8369

Kale Crostini, ricotta, pine nuts currants

Burrata and Roasted Grapes

Tuna Tartare, mustard, oven-roasted tomato, crostini

BBQ Quail with Brussel sprouts and Hazelnuts. It appears the sprouts have fallend and crushed the poor baby bird, like an anvil in a Road Runner cartoon.