The butter-filled ramekin cried softly to itself though our entire meal, seated outside at Blue Marlin on a Saturday night. The bread had come and gone, bread plates and knives cleared away. But for the rest of the meal the ramekin of butter sat there, useless, falling deeper and deeper into the depths of its own buttery despair. It looked sad, lonely and useless.\n\nI speak in such detail of the forgotten ramekin because not only was it crying out to be cleared through two subsequent courses, but it also created the unfulfilled dream for more bread and served as a constant reminder and point of comparison for the food to come. \n\nThe food was superbly meh. The mussels with chroizo were utterly forgettable, although I do remember thinking that the white wine sauce would've been tasty had more bread been provided. Don't most mussels come with a couple slices of toasted bread with which to sop up sauciness? \n\nWell, with no sauce sopping going on, my dining companion and I were getting saucier by the minute. The salmon came overcooked but edible, reminding me of an extra-tasty Lean Cuisine. The \"special\" that night was just a mess. Sometimes a \"special\" is \"special\" because the chef wants to highlight particular flavors or use a very fresh just-caught fish or just-slaughtered meat. Sometimes a \"special\" isn't special at all, but rather satisfying the need to dispose of over-ordered produce or a cut that's just not moving for whatever reason. It seemed to be the latter. \n\nAll we wanted was a nice, border-line fancy meal with some good drinks in an outdoor setting. We were sitting outdoors, it's true, and we did order a nice bottle of wine, so thanks to the terrible food, we got ourselves a little empty-stomach drunk-on. The bill came, we scoffed at it, paid up and tottered away in disbelief. I don't think we'll be trying this one again anytime soon.