Terrible. Just absolutely terrible.
Driving by, I'd often wondered what lie within the bizarrely out-of-place looking structure that is the Sportsmen?s Lodge at the corner of Ventura and Coldwater Canyon. One day a coupon for dinner arrived in my mailbox mysteriously, like a golden ticket to Willie Wonka's chocolate factory and I must admit I was intrigued. We entered into an eerie quiet as we were escorted into the dining room amid a handful of what appeared to be elderly regulars. This didn't feel like Studio City. The table had not been set up as someone sat us in the corner booth. We waited patiently in uncomfortable silence for the table to be set up and menus to arrive. After what felt like an eternity of being the only couple in the room under 80, and many attempts to get the waiter's attention, we requested to be moved to a table in the room out by the bar with the TVs. The waiter seemed confused, but we were soon seated at an empty table in an almost empty room in front of a 1980 Hitachi 50"" big screen, blaring static at 120 decibels. We sat in bemusement waiting for someone, anyone, to acknowledge that nothing was on the TV but snow and it was REALLY loud. A waitress showed up, and we received silverware, napkins and menus. We ordered a steak that tasted like the Marie Callender meal I make in my microwave on special occasions. Still, no one mentioned the TV. When the food arrived I said, 'Excuse me do think you could do something about the TV?' She said ?oh.. um? okay,? and returned 10 minutes later as we were finishing, having apparently found a misplaced remote control. We swiftly presented our coupon and nervously made our way to the door. Why didn't we just leave sooner you may ask? I don't know. Maybe for the same reason one remains in the theater to finish watching the scariest movie they've ever seen. This was not Studio City. This was the Twilight Zone.