Hi, I'm Adam.

Adam Parkzer   •   32   •   Las Vegas, USA   •   5'10" (178 cm)   •   152 lbs (69 kg)   •   Korean American

Although I am best known for my various public appearances as a personality, I am a busi­ness­man by trade. Pri­ma­ri­ly, I help run cor­po­rate op­er­a­tions at Tem­po, a game de­vel­op­ment studio, mul­ti­me­di­a pro­duc­tion com­pa­ny, and esports fran­chise; I cur­rent­ly o­ver­see le­gal, fi­nance, and hu­man re­sources ad­min­is­tra­tion. I also pro­vide busi­ness ad­vi­so­ry serv­ices to en­tre­pre­neurs and pub­lic fig­ures. You can find more details on my curriculum vitae.

Having formerly been in law enforcement, my main interests include criminology and forensic psychology. In my free time, I like to write, train mixed mar­tial arts, pursue investment opportunities, and de­vel­op new prac­ti­cal skills. I used to be a competitive gamer, but now I just play casually.

The easiest way to get to know me better is to read about INTJs on the Myers-Briggs Type In­di­ca­tor. I'm split between Investigator (Type 5) and Chal­leng­er (Type 8) on the Enneagram. My CliftonStrengths Top 5 are De­lib­er­a­tive, Learner, An­a­lyt­i­cal, A­chiev­er, and Com­pe­ti­tion. I score highest in Well-Being, Self-Control, and Emotional Stability on the SPI-27. My top per­sonality trait on both the Big Five and HEXACO-PI-R is Con­sci­en­tious­ness.

If you want to write me a letter, you can send it to PO Box 2222, Las Vegas, NV 89125-2222, USA. I don't really use so­cial me­di­a an­y­more, but my pro­files are Parkzer on Twitch, Adam Parkzer on YouTube, @Parkzer on 𝕏, Adam Parkzer on LinkedIn, and Parkzer on Last.fm. I don't have any se­cret “alt” or “friends only” ac­counts. Never send cash, gift cards, or cryp­to­cur­ren­cy to any­one claim­ing to be me—they are all im­per­son­a­tors and scam­mers.

Below, you can find my blog where I document my adventures, organize my thoughts, and share snippets of my life. You can browse in re­verse chron­o­log­i­cal or­der, or you can sort by these popular categories: Food | Finance | Travel | Hiking | Cats | Best of the Best




Hello, Masamitsu Japanese Cuisine in San Marino, California

I go to nice restaurants on a very regular basis, but it’s been a little while since I’ve been to an ultra high-end place. Last Wednesday night, I joined one of my foodie friends for an omakase experience at Masamitsu Japanese Cuisine in San Marino of Los Angeles County, California.

For our appetizer, we got four small dishes. The first was shrimp and mushrooms in house-made sauce. The sauce had a perfect level of tang to it, and the shrimp was literally the most tender shrimp I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.

The second was monkfish liver. This is the second time I’ve ever had monkfish liver; the previous time I tried it, it sort of tasted like crab miso, but this time, it had a more unique and individual taste. The third was some noodles with jelly-like consistency. I wasn’t really able to precisely pinpoint exactly what it was. The noodles themselves had a mild flavor, but the sauce was a tiny bit too sour for my preference. My favorite facet of the dish was actually the texture—it was very slippery and slimy, but not in an unpleasant way.

Finally, the fourth was an oyster. I squeezed a tiny bit of fresh lemon juice onto it. This was probably one of the best oysters I’ve ever had—it had just enough flavor that it was right up to the threshold of strength and intensity of oysteriness without being too strong. The texture was extremely smooth and it had a very clean and pure aftertaste.

The second course was a plate of sashimi. Each cut of sashimi was aggressively thick, which made it extremely satisfying to eat. Even the slice of chutoro was very large, which is rare to see when it comes to high-end fish like tuna belly.

The sashimi came with various edible flowers on the side. I usually try to avoid edible flowers because they just taste too much like I spritzed perfume in­to my mouth, but these were a lot more subtle in flavor. The chef also gave us some advice on which ones to have in what manner (e.g., certain ones that work better with or without soy sauce), which also helped maximize the flavor profile of the whole course.

The third course was chawanmushi with truffle, caviar, and mushroom. The deep richness of the egg custard went well after having just finished large por­tions of raw fish.

Next up was the assortment of nigiri.

There was one piece that stood out to me. I actually don’t remember which fish it was, but it was very well prepared. Half of it was seared so, when I put the whole piece of nigiri in my mouth, it tasted as if I was eating two different pieces at once. The amount of sear was perfect—it added the nice flavor of charred and burnt fish, but it was not bitter at all.

One other recurring theme for some of the pieces of nigiri that I really liked was the way the fish was scored. This increased the surface area of the fish so that, when I put the piece in my mouth, it made more thorough contact with my tongue and allowed me to taste the fish more deeply. This doesn’t mat­ter as much in other situations, but when the quality of the fish is as high as what Masamitsu uses, it does make a noticeable difference.

We took a brief intermission from nigiri for some black cod. The skin was nearly as tender as the fish itself, and with the thinly-sliced and lightly-pickled cucumber on the side, it tasted amazing.

I always take and use my own photographs for my website, but my friend wanted to contribute this time around. She took six out of the 21 photos in this blog post. Can you figure out which ones they are?

The next round of nigiri came after the cod. We got sweet shrimp, tuna belly, and salmon roe.

If you know me well, you know that my favorite sushi is uni. The chef opened a new box of sea urchin for us and let me take a photo of it. He then pre­pared uni gunkan for us with a very generous portion of uni.

As our dinner approached an end, we received some miso soup with mushrooms and fish as a closer. This is probably the one and only thing we were served that I wasn’t a huge fan of, as the miso was a bit too strong. I ended up not finishing the soup, but I did eat all the mushrooms and fish inside.

The final piece of nigiri was skinless eel. I was very full by this point, but the relatively mildness of the eel went along nicely with the strong miso soup.

For dessert, we got one scoop of ice cream each. Mine was black sesame, which sort of tasted like a mixture of coffee and vanilla bean.

My friend got green tea and decided to add some extra character to her scoop.

The total for the meal pre-tax and pre-gratuity was US$306.00—omakase was $150 per person, and we added on a yuzu soda for $6. Compared to other omakase restaurants I’ve been to, this was a great price considering how good the food was. The service was also fantastic—the servers were attentive and respectful, and our chef was interactive to a degree that you like to see during an omakase experience.

If you’re ever in the Los Angeles or Pasadena area and looking for a great meal around this pricepoint, I highly recommend Masamitsu Japanese Cuisine. This was a real omakase experience in the sense that it was a truly chef-catered experience, as opposed to some restaurants that have been popping up now­a­days that just piece together a few existing items on their menu and claim that it’s omakase.

When people ask me what my all-time favorite restaurant is, my go-to answer has been Utzutzu. After this dinner, I now have Masamitsu to add to the list.




Hello, Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena, California

My friend Dani is still in town, and for our next tourist activity, she picked the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena of Los Angeles County, California.

There was a phase during my two-year road trip during which I was intrigued by art museums and art galleries, but I think that period has ended, be­cause I found the Norton Simon Museum to be fairly understimulating.

It was also extremely packed and congested inside—probably be­cause Los Angeles has been going through a rainy phase so people probably thought an art museum would be a good indoor activity for a gloomy day—so it was difficult for me to stand still and read the placards without feeling like I was ob­structing the view of a row of people walking assembly-line style past me.

The downstairs area had a spotlight called “Benevolent Beings: Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from South and Southeast Asia,” which I found to be a bit more interesting.

Unfortunately, the Sculpture Garden in the outdoor area was closed due to heavy rain.

Even though this wasn’t personally my thing, it was nice to see that Dani seemed to enjoy it. We paid US$20.00 each for admission, which is not bad for an art museum of this size in Southern California. I’m still glad that I went, because I like to broaden my breadth of knowledge and understanding on var­i­ous topics, and even though I’m probably not creative or attuned to artistic themes enough to be able to get the most out of this experience, it was still nice to look at everything.




Hello, La Brea Tar Pits and Museum in Los Angeles, California

My friend Dani, who you may remember as the owner of Mina the cat, was making a trip to Los Angeles, so I headed over from Las Vegas to visit her while she was in town. For one of our tourist activities, we visited the La Brea Tar Pits and Museum in Los Angeles, California.

When Dani first told me she wanted to visit the Tar Pits, I was a bit confused as to why she would want to go look at a bunch of asphalt. But, when she ex­plained more about the story behind it, it became a lot more interesting.

Apparently, the tar pits are a naturally-occurring phenomenon that would trap animals in them a long time ago. Small animals would get stuck in there first, then some medium animals that were predators of the small animals would see them in there, think it’s an op­por­tu­ni­ty to get some free food, and also go into the tar pits and get stuck. Then some larger animals that were predators of the medium animals would see them in there, think it’s an op­por­tu­ni­ty for them to get some free food, and also go into the tar pits and get stuck. This process would continue until many different animals of many dif­fer­ent sizes ended up getting stuck in the tar.

The tar is still active and was bubbling up while we were there. There were also many cones set up by staff and sparingly spread out across the entire plot of land—this was to warn people about locations where even more tar was randomly coming up where it didn’t used to be, so that visitors wouldn’t end up stepping in it.

There was also an indoor portion of the museum. It was very stereotypical of a regular museum, but one portion of it I liked was the laboratory section where we could watch scientists clean fossils found in the tar pits.

There was also an interactive section where you could test your strength and see whether you would be able to pull yourself out of tar, if you had gotten stuck.

Remember how I said the tar sort of just erupted from random locations throughout the plot of land? When we had wrapped up and was walking back to the spot I had parked, we saw a section that was coned off in the parking lot because tar was coming onto the surface even through the pavement. It made me wonder how damaged the vehicle above the leak was, if there was one parked above it when the tar first came out, as well as how long it would take for the entire parking lot to eventually be covered in cones.

The La Brea Tar Pits are in the same block as the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures, so if you’re going to either of those two, I think it’s worth a visit just to see something so unique and different in the middle of a city.

If you’re interested in learning more about the fossils, admission to the museum was US$15.00 per person for me, but if you just want to see the tar pits, that is free and open to the public.




Hello, Mr. Shota All-You-Can-Eat Sushi in Spring Valley, Las Vegas, Nevada

For my latest restaurant adventure, I went to Mr. Shota AYCE Sushi in the unincorporated town of Spring Valley in the Las Vegas Valley.

To start, I got salmon and yellowtail carpaccio with ponzu and truffle oil.

Next was the seafood salad.

For my third dish, I received a sashimi roll with tuna, salmon, whitefish, and crab wrapped with cucumber and topped with screaming orgasm sauce. At other restaurants, this roll is often called the Rock ‘n’ Roll.

Following that was seafood aioli with assorted fresh fish topped with fried onion and drenched in creamy aioli and eel sauce.

Then came towering sashimi poke with assorted fish and crab on wonton chips with ponzu, spicy mayo, and eel sauce.

Next was an oyster.

After that was amaebi, or sweet shrimp.

My final plate consisted of salmon belly, ocean trout, salmon, and sea urchin.

For dessert, I got ube ice cream… but more on that later.

If you look through my photos, you’ll notice that this is substantially less food than I usually have at all-you-can-eat restaurants. It’s not because I wasn’t hungry… it is because Mr. Shota had the literal worst service I have ever received at an all-you-can-eat restaurant in my entire life.

I spent about two and a half hours at the restaurant and the waiter came to my table six times. The first time was to give me water and take my first or­der. The second time was to bring me my first round of food. Then nobody showed up for about an hour, before I managed to flag someone down to put in my second round of food. My second round took over half an hour to show up, during the waiter’s fourth visit. The fifth visit wasn’t even a real visit, but I flagged someone down again to get myself some dessert. The sixth visit was to drop off a small container of ice cream. I went straight up to the register to pay, then left.

Decent waiters at AYCE restaurants will check on you once every ten to fifteen minutes to make sure you have all the food you want, or at the very least, show up once they notice you’ve finished eating everything on your table. I understand that some AYCE restaurants have policies in place to in­ten­tion­al­ly place delay in food ordering and delivery, thus trying to make you feel more full and en­couraging you to eat less food to cut costs… but Mr. Shota has done this to an unacceptable extreme.

The reason the table in the background of the ice cream photograph is different is because I took it back with me and ate it at home, because I was way too frustrated with the restaurant and didn’t want to stay any longer.

Never go to Mr. Shota.




When everything goes wrong in the best way possible

A few days ago, after arriving back home to Las Vegas, I met up with a friend at Gaetano’s Ristorante in Henderson for dinner. Afterwards, I got back in my truck and drove back to the western suburbs of the Las Vegas Valley where I live. Before heading home, I decided to take a quick stop at the local Target a mile and a half away from my condo to buy some snacks and beverages. I made it there without incident. It was approaching 10 PM and about to close, so I quickly finished shopping and walked out of the building and towards my truck.

Working in law enforcement, especially at a police department, makes you pick up some interesting quirks. Because I was never a sworn patrol officer, I don’t do active duty things like taking off my seat belt early or opening the door before the vehicle is fully stopped. However, there are things I do do, like always sitting at restaurants with my back to a wall and facing the entrance, or never standing directly in front of doors, or checking the waists of peo­ple around me to identify bulges that may be weapons.

Another strange thing I do that is loosely and indirectly tied to law enforcement is always remote starting my vehicle—not for convenience, but for safe­ty. If someone planted an explosive in or on my truck that triggers upon turning on the engine as an attack, the idea is that I will be far enough away that I will not be victimized as severely as I would be if I was sitting inside the cabin. The chance of this actually happening? Pretty much zero. But study­ing crime makes you hyperaware of small things like this.

With my plastic bag in hand, I pulled out my keys and pressed the button on my fob to remote start my pickup truck. I saw the lights flash, but the engine did not whir into action. Confused, I immediately stopped in place, looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then attempted to remote start my truck again. The lights flashed once again indicating that it received the remote start signal, but the engine remained dormant.

From a distance, I swooped down to angle my view so I could see under my truck to make sure there was nobody hiding underneath. Once I concluded it was safe, I unlocked my vehicle, stepped inside, inserted my key into the ignition, and turned. The infotainment system lit up, but nothing happened. I tried a second time, and again, nothing happened.

The third time’s a charm. I tried starting my engine one last time, and my instrument cluster screen lit up long enough for me to be able to see a warning that said my battery was critically low. I navigated through the options on the menu to check my battery status; after jabbing the “scroll down” button several times, I finally got to a screen that showed for a split second that my voltage was only 11.0 before fading to darkness.

My battery was dead.

This was fine. I pay for roadside assistance along with my auto insurance policy. I can get a free jump start and make my way home, then jump it again a second time from home after I have an appointment to get my battery changed. I pulled up my insurance company’s website to put in a roadside as­sis­tance request.

Of course, they don’t have an option to request roadside assistance over phone call, because that would be too easy (either that, or it was too late and there were no customer service rep­re­sen­ta­tives available). You need your username and password to log into the request page, which I forgot and only had in my password manager on my computer. You can log in with your policy number too, but the card I had was from the previous renewal cycle, and apparently my policy number changed for my next semi-annual period that started a few weeks ago, so the previous one was invalid. It took me about 15 minutes to gather all the information I need and put in the request.

The estimated wait time? 118 minutes.

I was not going to sit there waiting in the parking lot of a closed Target for two hours until midnight. Frustrated, I canceled the request and called an Uber to drive me a mile and a half back home. I would deal with this tomorrow. I live in a relatively safe neighborhood, so there would surely be no issues leaving my truck in the parking lot for one night. If anything, my truck should thank me. It’s basically like I’m letting it go camping.

I got back home safely. I let my dinner friend know what had happened, and told him how relieved I was that this had happened when I was so close to home, as opposed to when I was still in Henderson on the opposite side of the Las Vegas Valley. I also rantingly told the story to one of my friends who was visiting South Korea so I could share my torment and make sure she’s not having too much fun vacationing. 🙃

I ended my night by editing food photos, blogging about the restaurant, and winding down by watching some YouTube before bed. Stress level: 0.

The next morning, I started my day at a leisurely pace. I woke up early, got a little bit of work done, went back to sleep for a short nap, then showered. Because it was the daytime, I figured I should probably knock this out all at once instead of doing my two-jump method I had devised the previous night. I called a mobile battery service company that would arrive on-site, deliver a brand new battery, and install it for me on the spot so it’s all resolved and I don’t have to worry about it anymore, all for only US$300.00.

I told them the address of Target and scheduled an appointment with them for 1 PM. I called another Uber and rode my way a mile and a half back to my truck. Upon my approach, I was unsurprised, but still relieved, to find it just as how I had left it the previous night.

Shortly afterwards, the technician arrived. I told him what happened, and he reacted as if it was nothing special—just a regular old day at work. His ex­pres­sion changed when I popped the hood. His outlook on the situation also changed when he took a closer look.

I wish I had taken a photograph before the technician cleaned it all up, but the connectors to my battery looked like something out of an alien horror film. There was a blue growth festering out of the metal and I couldn’t tell whether it was spiny, fuzzy, or both. According to the technician, it was cor­ro­sion that grew on top of corrosion that had grown on top of even more corrosion.

He pulled out his workbag and got to work chipping away at the corrosion and getting everything cleaned up. I sat in the cabin of my truck because it was a little chilly.

As time went on, he started whacking, then hammering, then full-on pounding at the battery. I personally have never swapped out a car battery on my own, but I was still getting suspicious when it sounded like the technician was fighting the battery in a twelve-round boxing match, and losing.

Eventually, he motioned for me to step out of the vehicle. He let me know that the corrosion had gotten so bad that the battery release had effectively gotten welded onto a different part of the vehicle. He had apparently been unable to separate the pieces in order to get the battery out, and he was at­tempting to use increasingly higher force, but he had reached a point where he was concerned he would permanently damage something and decided to tap out.

Instead, he gave me a jump start and told me to drive straight to the dealership service center to get the corrosion repaired. Because he wasn’t able to complete his dispatch order, he opted not to charge me anything, even though I offered to pay him for the jump start.

I called the certified GMC service center nearest to my condo—the AutoNation Buick GMC West Sahara—and miraculously, they had an express service appointment time slot available in an hour. I drove straight there with my jump-started engine and pulled into a service lane. Upon arrival, I made con­tact with a service advisor who popped the hood and sprayed some diagnostic chemical on my battery to confirm that it had apparently been spew­ing acid all over the place. He put in a work order for corrosion repair and a battery replacement, and I also managed to convince him to squeeze in an oil change while they were at it, because my oil life was nearing the single-digit percentages.

When I’m waiting for vehicle service, I usually bring my laptop to get some work done and be efficient with my time. However, I obviously did not ex­pect this whole ordeal to last longer than about half an hour beyond just the battery swap in the parking lot, and I wasn’t planning on anything else go­ing wrong, so I didn’t bring my laptop with me. Maybe that was for the better, because this encouraged me to be offline for a bit, drinking some free coffee while watching sports on TV, taking a look at some of the new pickup trucks on display, chatting with the salesmen about new trends in pickup truck technology, and even getting an opportunity check out the new GMC Hummer EV SUV on the lot.

Two hours later, I paid for all the service done, and the bill was actually a pleasant surprise—dealership service centers are known for aggressive mark-ups, but the price I paid was fairly competitive. I drove back home, thankful that all this had unfolded precisely in this manner.

Sure, it technically isn’t a good thing that my battery decided to paint its surrounding with acid and corrode everything it touched, but I am under the belief that, eventually, vehicles will end up with some kind of issues, regardless of how much preventative maintenance you do. And yes, I understand that it is not statistically accurate to think of it this way, but I’m glad that one line in my “problem quota” was taken up by something as mild as this in such favorable circumstances.

I’m very fortunate that this happened while I was at home in Las Vegas, and not traveling somewhere else. I regularly drive back and forth to California, and on a macro scale, this would have been a much worse situation if I had taken a break at a rest stop in the middle of the Mojave Desert and then broken down there. I also just wrapped up a two-year road trip not too long ago, and I can’t imagine how much of a pain this would have been if I had broken down on some random unpaved trail in Wyoming with no cell signal. Even on a micro scale within Las Vegas, the fact that I broke down at a Tar­get parking lot in a very safe neighborhood was very fortunate, as opposed to somewhere near downtown or on the other side of the Valley.

I’m also very fortunate that this happened on a Saturday when the dealership’s service center was still open (as they are closed on Sundays), and that they had an express appointment slot available so soon that I wouldn’t need to leave my vehicle there overnight until Monday and have to find al­ter­na­tive transportation to my upcoming appointments.

So, if you’re going to have things go wrong… I guess this is how you do it in the best way possible.




Hello, Gaetano’s Ristorante in Henderson, Nevada

I’m back home in Las Vegas for a bit before my next trip, and for my first nice meal back, I met up with my friend Aidan who owns the Skip the Tutorial channel on YouTube for another food adventure.

This time, we decided on Gaetano’s Ristorante, an Italian restaurant in the Siena Promenade in Hen­der­son, Nevada.

When we arrived, we were served a basket of complementary bread. This was actually one of the nicer bread baskets I’ve had; there were three different kinds of bread, and they were more “premium” pieces than just the plain white bread that you get at a lot of other restaurants.

Like usual, so I can try as many different dishes as possible, I did a “build your own” dinner where I ordered multiple appetizers instead of just a single main entrée. My first appetizer was tenderloin carpaccio with raw filet mignon, arugula, shaved parmesan cheese, and Sicilian olive oil.

I thought this was fine. There was way too much cheese, and I think I would’ve liked it more if it had about a quarter of the cheese that it came with, but I think that particular aspect of the dish is highly subjective, considering that I’m not really that big of a fan of cheese in general. I ended up only using a quarter of the cheese along with the carpaccio, then finished the remainder of the cheese afterwards as a topping for the bread.

Unfortunately, the filet mignon slices were more like shavings instead of slices, as they were a bit excessively thin. It would’ve been nice if the portion size was a bit larger, but when the slices were separated and swirled around, there was still enough substance in them to have a satisfying bite.

Aidan’s appetizer was three stuffed mozzarella sticks with pistachio pesto and marinara. As you may have deduced from what I just said about cheese, I wasn’t particularly interested in them, so I didn’t sample any.

Aidan also got a house salad with mixed greens, carrots, shaved parmesan cheese, and balsamic vinaigrette.

My second dish was grilled Calabrese mild sausage with rapini, olive oil, and garlic. I’m usually more of a fish and seafood person, but surprisingly, this sausage was my favorite plate of the meal. The sausage wasn’t too salty, it had a deep and rich flavor, and the greens complemented it well. At this point, we had also requested a second bowl of bread, and the bread enhanced the flavor of the sausage and rapini very nicely.

My third and final dish was brodetto, made from fresh black mussels sautéed with a lightly-spiced marinara sauce served with crostinis.

I probably should’ve Googled “brodetto” prior to ordering it so I could see that it was basically Italian fish stew. It wasn’t what I was expecting, but it wasn’t too bad either. I like the isolated oceanic flavor of raw seafood, so it was a bit different to have the cooked mussels along with tomato sauce. The crostinis were a bit too crispy to the extent that it was a little painful to chew, so I ended up soaking them in the marinara to soften them up first.

Aidan ordered truffle mac and cheese for his main entrée.

For dessert, we split a spumoni, made with layered gelato and whipped cream with a cherry in the middle. The flavors we got were vanilla, chocolate, and pistachio. To me, it just tasted like regular ice cream, which was refreshing after having such a thick and meaty meal.

This is what the inside of the restaurant looked like.

Bread $  0.00
Tenderloin carpaccio $ 22.00
Mozzarella sticks $ 12.00
House salad $ 14.00
Sausage and rapini $ 18.00
Brodetto $ 22.00
Truffle mac and cheese $ 32.00
Spumoni $ 12.00
Diet Coke ×2 $ 10.00
Sales tax $ 11.90
Gratuity $ 23.00
Total $176.90

The table on the right shows how much we paid.

One thing I found comical about this restaurant is that it aims to be an upper- to high-end restaurant, but it’s located in a major shopping center area. In order to give off the impression of being premium, they have a valet parking option (which I obviously did not use). Hilariously, the “valet parking” was nothing special—the valet spot was marked off with cones, there was one single valet spot, and it was literally about 20 steps away from the front door. To compound the humor, there is a Buffalo Wild Wings a few doors down, and it was absolutely packed with people who had shown up for Super Bowl LVIII who were just desperately park­ing their cars anywhere there was space. I already despise the concept of valet parking anyway, but this en­tire situation just made the stupidity of the concept even funnier.

Also unrelated to the food, but still something I want to mention: their service seems to be a little scat­ter­brained. Throughout my dining experience, I think there were either four or five different people who served us, so it was difficult to tell who exactly our waiter was—which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but definitely different. When the first waiter showed up to take our appetizer order, he listed off so many off-the-menu specials (I’m talking probably like 6+ options) that it would’ve probably been worth it for them to create a special mini-menu for the daily features. He also did not have a notepad, so when we ordered, he tried to memorize everything, then came back to us twice because was second-guessing himself on what we ordered and wanted to re-verify with us.

A recurring theme I’ve noticed from most Italian restaurants is that they serve their food extremely salty, but Gaetano’s seemed to be an exception to that, which I appreciated. The food definitely was still a bit salty, but it was nowhere near the level of other Italian restaurants where it felt like the inside of my mouth was basically getting pickled.

Overall, I’m happy with what I got, but I think there might be some better options that you may want to check out at this price point where you’d get better value for your money.