Bottoms up at Braun’s Bar and Grill

It smelled a little when I first walked through the door of the giant sports bar across from campus. But that's to be expected when the soup of the day is something as ridiculous as chicken pot pie. Either the kitchen staff thought chicken pot pie was actually soup, or they'd made some sort of soup monstrosity out of the savory dish—I wonder what happens to the flaky crust? Anyway, this dish resulted in an "Ode de Over-Cooked Peas" wafting over the lobby. Think rank farts.

By then, it was apparent to me that I was not there to be wowed by culinary delights. And when my waitress, Courtney, explained that happy hour included $3 wells and beers, and $4 wines and margaritas, it was clear that I was there to drink.

I've made the mistake of getting blubbering drunk on an empty stomach before and the results have been similar to the smell in the lobby. So I did take Courtney up on some of the $5 appetizers on sale during this beloved drinky-drink time, and I wasn't that disappointed.

The seared ahi tuna incrusted in sesame seeds is a steal. The fish held together when I forked it, so chances are it was never frozen, even though I can't imagine why a place like Braun's wouldn't freeze tuna. The flavor is slight, like fresh tuna should be, and with a side of wasabi, a drizzle of chili soy, and some Asian slaw to add crunchy freshness, this appetizer makes a plate that could be found at any $20 per plate sushi den.

A similar dish, Braun's skewers, comes in chicken, flank, or shrimp with the same side of coleslaw and at the same price. I went for the flank because steak is a commodity when you're living off of $12,000 a year. Thanks FAFSA. It might just be my lack of practice with red meats, but it was tasty. Grilled with a little teriyaki flavor, but not enough to cover up the juicy richness of good beef, the flank also came with a drizzle of Sriracha to spice things up.

Naturally, with my cider, I also went for the spinach and artichoke dip. The menu boasted that they were served with tricolor tortilla chips. But all my chips were the regular, boring kind, not to mention incredibly stale. I had to heap that dip on just to soften the chip enough to chew. And the dip wasn't anything to dance about: a cheddar base with little bits of artichoke—I don't even remember eating any spinach.

So this dish definitely brought me back to the beginning when I had consigned to drink heartily and not be my usual, picky-eater self.

Since I had spent eight hours at school and was looking forward to three more, a quick walk over to Braun's and a cheap, icy cider was enough to make a patron out of me.