Silver medal

The Foghorn Leghorn conceals chicken in a waffle, served with a side of country gravy and Buffalo ranch dressing.

The Foghorn Leghorn conceals chicken in a waffle, served with a side of country gravy and Buffalo ranch dressing.

Photo/ALlison Young

Silver State Eatery is open Tuesday through Sunday from 7:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.

Silver State Eatery has a menu touting organic and locally sourced ingredients, and a decor mashup of Grandma’s kitchen—rough-hewn wood and burlap coffee sack upholstery. Sadly, our experience was a bit like having seen a movie trailer that is far better than the actual flick.

Service was friendly, and the coffee was good, though less than hot. Apologies were made for the kitchen prepping a catering gig. The tepid coffee was harbinger to an hour-long wait for room-temperature food. A Belgian waffle ($7) with fresh fruit and whipped cream was ordered with toasted coconut on the side, arriving completely undercooked, with a smattering of fruit, cream and the coconut tossed on top. I’ve had oatmeal that was crispier.

The Foghorn Leghorn waffle ($12)—chicken breast and bacon ironed into scratch-made waffle batter—fared better. It was actually crispy, served as four triangles with Buffalo ranch dressing and maple syrup on the side. We added a side of country gravy for an extra $2 and an over-medium egg for another $1.50. The egg was fine, and the gravy was actually warm and loaded with sausage. However, the chicken was pounded flat and very dry.

We ordered a pair of omelets ($8 each) with bacon, spinach, scallion, tri-color pepper, mushroom, Monterey Jack cheese and sliced avocado on top, one with sourdough and the other with wheat toast. Neither bread was remotely toasted. One omelet was nicely folded—though bland—and the sauteed ingredients were quite good. The other was a lopsided scramble.

A Rabbit’s Dream salad ($9) contained romaine and red leaf lettuce, spinach, bell pepper, radish, cucumber, cherry tomato, carrot, artichoke heart, black olive and house ranch dressing. It did indeed have all those ingredients, though in a serving size I would call an overdressed side salad—perfect for a rabbit with modest aspirations.

The large flour tortilla of Da’Shroominator wrap ($9) included a chef’s mix of sauteed mushrooms with chipotle spice, jalapeño, pepper jack cheese, scallion, avocado and cilantro cream, with the addition of tri-tip for another $5 and pretzel bites on the side. The bites were warm and sprinkled with shredded Parmesan. The filling was quite tasty, though spartan in presence. We had to hunt for a lone, thin-sliced bit of tri-tip, re-grilled to the point of jerky. The tortilla was heavily folded in on itself—a tortilla wrap stuffed with tortilla, lightly seasoned with goodies. The sauce was drizzled on top, a messy way to serve handheld food. We picked at the good bits and left behind the excess carbs.

Finally, His Mistress’ grilled cheese ($11), was a sandwich on garden herb toast with melted havarti, Monterey Jack and Parmesan, supposedly topped with balsamic roasted Brussels sprouts and thin-sliced tomato. I may have missed the vegetation in the small sandwich, which was served absolutely stone cold. The chef must really have it in for his “mistress.” The side of creamed cucumbers—a cereal bowl of sliced cukes swimming in dairy with plenty of dill weed—was dramatically larger than the sandwich, and not half bad.

The menu sounds great, and they’ve only been open a few weeks. Perhaps, given time, they’ll learn how to deliver on their promise and decide whether they’re a caterer or a restaurant. They don’t seem capable of being both.