The other 'fello. They opened the old brewpub right up — knocked it wide so every seat at the bar sees the water. Somehow the worse-named twin ended up with all the light.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"I dunno — but I'm headed to Sackets.
I'll end up at one of the 'fellos."
Two restaurants. One harbor. Two halves of the same good time.
Goodfellos is the warm, familiar one — the corner table, the candle, the dinner you've had a hundred times and never tire of. Badfellos is the troublemaker who cleaned up nice: bright, wide open, every seat thrown toward the lake. The name says bad. The room says otherwise.
They took the old brewpub and opened it up — knocked the walls back so the lake pours in from every angle. Bright, airy, easy. The black sheep turned out to be the one with the view. Don't let the name fool you; the worst-behaved 'fello got the best seat in town.
The renovation did the hard part — walls came down, light came in, and the whole room turned to face Lake Ontario. Badfellos leans into it: bright, open, unfussy elegance. The lakeside dining room you wish your town already had, with a name that makes you smile on the way in.
No bad table in the house — the bar and the dining room both look straight out at the harbor.
Lunch in the sun, golden hour at the bar, and a sunset that does the decorating for you.
All the charm of a bad reputation, none of the dim lighting. Same family as Goodfellos — bigger windows.
Pull into Sackets, follow the water, and let the day decide which door you walk through. Either way, you're looking at the lake.