Grubsnitch

Walking into this strange restaurant transports you from the shabby chic of the Slope's quirky restaurant row to the pompous pretension of the self-consciously fanciest eatery in a mid-sized, mid-western industrial town. From the entrance, where the maitre d' imperiously demands that you leave your outerwear at the coat check, to your bread plate, which is replenished by the hovering busser every time you take a bite, to the antiseptic, corporate decor, this is a place designed for self-importance rather than hospitality. Until recently, there was even a flat screen television outside showing a loop of food-porn shots of menu items. It all seems expensive, and it is, but is lacks charm; it is a long way from the cozy, casual  restaurants that generally typify Brooklyn dining. The food was fine but not memorable. One side dish in particular was typical of the whole experience: the suddenly-de-rigeur polenta "fries" which were uniformly square and golden, smooth, evenly textured, and nearly tasteless. Tempo seems like an odd fit for the nieghborhood, but someone must like it, because it's been open for over two years. The restaurant also has two takeout outlets, one on 5th and one on 7th, which served overpriced panini and gelato in the oddly depressing atmosphere of a national chain.