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Occupying the former Smoking Joint space, 3rd St Station's a red/white-striped-awning'd gastrobistro featuring slatted-wood banquettes and a 10-seat bar, and is ostensibly modeled after one of those cafes in train stations you may have found yourself in while studying abroad, though hopefully this time, you'll be smart enough not to trust an Italian man named Paolo to "watch out" for your girlfriend while you pee.

Dinner victuals include grass-fed, red wine-braised short rib w/ chanterelle fricassee, and a white bean and caramelized carrot crostini-sided wild rabbit cassoulet, which told the Peter Rabbit cassoulet it "should totally sneak into Mr. McGregor's garden. Dude, like, never checks on his vegetables". They've also got lunch options (pork belly panini w/ red onion jam & local goat cheese), a weekend brunch (jidori chicken crepes w/ bechamel sauce); and a smaller post-11p menu with chorizo-stuffed risotto croquettes & a margherita grilled pizza, which will presumably be a little unsure about where it is after 11p.

As if that wasn't enough, they've got a happy hour with half-off vittles, a cocktail list with specialties like the rum/lime/passion fruit/creme de banana Runaway Train, and a mostly Euro beer list updated frequently and displayed on an electronic board once used for depot arrivals and departures, though "Kristin's from your life with her new fiance Paolo" probably won't be up there.

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