The Tin Angel is what happens when people have more money than they have sense, but I guess even the hoi-polloi need a place to cackle about sprouts and balsamic vinaigrette. The menu at this dump is ridiculous and the only people who go there more than once go because they think they should. I went one Sunday for lunch and thought I?d stepped into a Fellini movie. It was the ?B? list from the Swine Ball. I didn?t even know dead people could eat. Except for people who wear tennis sweaters in June, no one in their right mind would go to this place.
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