Finnegan's Mistake

Beyond booze, Version Three has even less to recommend it

Main courses are accompanied by dinner rolls, sautéed vegetables, and choice of baked potato, French fries, or linguine Mornay (white cheese sauce). We requested the last, but it didn't arrive with the meal; our server eventually procured for us a plate of cold pasta with a little plastic cup of unseasoned tomato sauce on the side. The bread never came either, but one slice of pizza bearing a fat, Bobo-like crust was more than enough starch. I'm pretty sure the pizza crust isn't a premade product popped from a box like some other foods served here; I believe it comes packaged in a plastic bag.

A Reuben sandwich, which I ordered as take-out for lunch one day, was heftily filled with what can be described only as corned-beef-flavored luncheon meat. A tiny dab of sauerkraut centered each half, but not until I returned home did I notice the lack of any Thousand Island dressing. Dessert was a white chocolate caramel macadamia nut torte, one of those sugary, mass-produced confections whose individual flavors meld together into an indistinguishable goo of sweetness.

I didn't come to Finnegan's expecting Pascal's on Ponce. Rather I was hoping this spacious new waterfront location might inspire the owners to pump up the cheap bar-food quality of cuisine found at their other branches. It wasn't to be, yet Finnegan's isn't a total wash: The burger ain't bad, and weekday happy hour brings half-price drinks — or a "bucket of beer" for six dollars. And, as you know, there's nothing quite so satisfying as sitting peacefully by a river and guzzling a bucket of beer.

JOE ROCCO

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