There are several things that can take the edge of a restaurant, if not outright spoil it.
I've already banged on enough about singing "happy birthday", and how that drops an otherwise classy place down into TGIF territory.
Then there's having to stand around for ages in limbo waiting for your reserved and already overdue table.
Not to mention doggy bags on the table, waiters telling you what their favorite dish is on the menu, imagining that their taste buds are twinned with yours.
Town Hall suffers from all of these.
I picked this photo because it perfectly highlights the Applebys-with-chandeliers vibe exuded by this place.
Enough said.
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