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Przekaż informację zwrotnąSuch a name naturally makes suspicious. You don't expect good food. On Tripadvisor, the shop has excellent reviews in masses. They can't all be stupid, you think. So we wanted to give this restaurant a chance and therefore we drove past it for personal inspection. The artist's café is very close to the centre in an area that is fully covered with a limited holding ban. When booking, we were told that in the evening you can park the island shop in the large parking lot of H.B. Jensen and enter the restaurant from the rear entrance. That was a good tip because the parking lot was largely empty on Sunday night. Restaurantfront outside to the street Our reservation was welcomed as well as our welcome in the evening. We asked for a table outside, which was not a problem. Some tables were free in front of the street. The pity of the green plants and flowers came to my wife, a passionate garden lover, with a hearty disapproval. Our table had a bare granite plate in pepper and salt look. Two colored water glasses, a burning candle in a gold edge glass, cutlery of Vega and creamy fleece napkins lay on the table. The very nice and warm serviceman brought us the cards without wanting to impose a drink. As an aperitif we chose two glasses of artists who should be charged with 9 euros. For 7,50 there would also have been a cremant without indication of origin. It should be a bottle of magnus fine-perfect. I immediately gave up our entire order and overwhelmed the memory performance of our service worker. What happened below suggested the old saying that the only thing that worked here was the door. In addition to the artist's champagne and the magnus, I ordered a beef carpaccio for 10.90, two times 0.2 l of Chianti for 6.50 each, a pizza salami/sink and a salami/sink/champignons for 9.90 or 10,90. }Our champagne came into two outside suitable glass jars, but they were not ugly. We shouldn't have been drinking. When we did, the facial features slept in. That should be a winemaker? Later we saw that only 5,50 were calculated for Prosecco each. Table with candle and champagne A basket with four tasty baguette slices was placed on our table. No oil, no butter or anything else. Carpaccio In a huge Burgundy ball came my very abundant gifted red wine. Well, that made fat unnecessary. My Carpaccio penetrated, a good amount of thin-heavy cut bovine fillets in good quality, covered with rabbit food, enriched with a few roasted pine nuts. The rim of the plate was decorated with two tiny balsamic tracks. Two lemon spirals were still on the plate. I pressed her juice from despair over the mountain Rucola in the state of origin. Oil, vinegar or other ingredients misdisplay. While I gradually grew nage teeth, the question of salt and pepper came, which I thankfully refused. After some waiting time our two pizzas came. No black spot was to be discovered, but the edge was blown up in huge bubbles. Of this my wife tried a piece and said Matzes that is the Jewish Pessach bread, unacidified and without blowing agent, that after Kishon is given away for years in closed packs from one family to the next. The use of sugo and cheese was inadequate for this splintering dry dough. The cooking ham was distributed in small pens as in flame cakes, salami slices and with me champignons were sufficient. Mahr as 40 of this unique and peculiar structure did not manage my wife, although she had now demanded the ordered glass of red wine. On the other hand, I flushed down the edge with red wine and found the softened middle area somehow edible. Pizza Since our friendly waiter asked how it tasted, I said the truth. At the Carpaaccio he pointed out that Balsamico had been on the plate??? , at the pizze he stressed that thin and crispy had been announced, and they were very original Sicilian, but every person has a different taste. What else to say? We then discovered that the flame cakes had exactly the same dough. He seemed to fit us. We paid by EC card and left the restaurant at 19:10. I once again assured the serviceman that he was a nice person. When we were back in our house, my wife made two slices of bread.