text: Third time's the charm!  Yep, I have dined here for the last time. The food is plainer than a mud fence.  It's such simple fare, too.  Why isn't it better?  My repast of 2/20/12 began with iced tea that tasted like an old foot smells.  Next up was the fried calamari app with a sidecar of tomato pookie.  Tender, yes, but greasier'n a drippin' bicycle chain.  And the panko batter wasn't totally enrapturin' the parts.  Undaunted, The Beau and I then took  advantage of a coupon offer of twoferone woodfired oven pizzas.  The Beau had a veggie (sans da mozz!).  I designed my own sausage 'n' 'shroom (sans tomato pookie!).  Beau's veggie looked good and he said it was.  It was certainly colorful with all the fresh veggies.  My designer original was, though, a pure letdown.  My feathers fell when the waitron started the pie's angle for the table's landing strip:  all my baby browns could see was -- Christ, almighty God! Elizabeth, I'm comin' to get ya! -- sliced Italian sausage.  Lord knows I shy from practicing anthropomorphism, but I can't believe any Hephaestus-fearing, woodfired oven would allow sliced sausage to enter its pie hole.   Fergawdsakes, Italian sausage is easy to make.  It's ground pork with some spices.  Make it yourself, Stone & Vine!  And you don't slice it.  You grab bits of it and throw it on the pie -- just like Nello's does it.  Anywho, as soon as the pie's landing gear touched the woodmac I immediately started dreadin' that first bite.  And sure enough, my fears were realized:  bland didn't even begin to describe the sausage.  Shame, too, 'cause the pie's crust had a good tooth to it.  Upshot?  Uh, Mr. Clark, I'll give da joint two stars.  Bland food.  Nice, comfy decor.  Tables have lots of space so there's room to cuss a cat.  Friendly staff.  And a good burn on the pizza crust.  Call when you find work, Stone & Vine.