Maxfields — Restaurant in Town of Potsdam

First review - The atmosphere seemed inviting and quaint. That being said, the wait staff although I’m assuming efficient, was extremely annoying in running around the dining room chaotically and my son having an aisle seat was knocked into several times. The hostess at one point led a large group of people to their table behind my seat. Visually she could see there was no room behind my chair and the next table, but that didn’t stop her from barging through. She said, “excuse me” and pushed herself behind me to get through. I replied, “ I have no where to move”. Why couldn’t she simply walk around with her group of people in a professional manner without disturbing us. She was not attentive to anyone and that didn’t seem to keep her from squeezing her body right into me! Despite this we ordered drinks, however I was told there was no more ginger beer for a Moscow mule. Really? This was early in the evening. Next we ordered bruschetta as an appetizer and was told there was no more pesto. We ordered burgers and salad which literally took forever. By the time the food came out, my medium burger was charred and if I wasn’t so hungry, I probably wouldn’t have eaten it. The portion size was not huge either - there was not many fries that came with it. The staff was not attentive at all considering the wait was so long. By the time we got our check, the waiter disappeared and we had to call over someone else to take our money. If you just want a few beers at the bar, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, but if you’re looking for a good meal In the dining room side, go elsewhere The service as I said before, clearly didn’t justify the prices either. We were excited to try this place but what a disappointment. Management, you have a lot to work on! Second review - We needed to stay in the area so my husband and I decided to give Maxfields one more shot. This was about 4 months after the first visit so we were interested to see if anything changed. Sadly, this was not the case. The service was so incredibly bad. The waiters were focused on the outdoor seating and the main room completely ignored. Other people in the main room were looking around like we were; wondering where is our waiter? He finally came, took our order and that was the last I saw of him. I asked 3 different people including the hostess, for a basket of bread and it never came! If I have to ask 3 times for anything, you really don’t even deserve one star. My husband had to ask twice for another glass of wine. It was NOT a busy time so why the lack of service? The waiter was laughing outside with other waitresses the whole night, and never came back again. Someone else brought our food - no bread and never asked if we needed anything. The bar was upbeat and crowded but we managed to get a seat. How does a bar like this serve a Moscow mule in a glass instead of the standard chilled mug and the reason being - “the kitchen staff took home the mugs?!” The woman next to me complained that her wine was in a little cup, not a wine glass? So I guess if you want a standard beer you’re safe but don’t order anything else, you may be disappointed. Btw, a word to management, the waiter from dinner apparently now off his shift came over to the bar, hit a key or two on the register and grabbed a couple of drinks for himself and friends. If I were management, here’s why you’ll be...

This place is a real paradise and its owner is scrupulous. I would give this place and his integrity an absolute Five-Star. Back in March I was looking for a short-term apartment when I happened to read an advertisement on the This Week about the Arlington Inn Apartments. I went to their office, and the landlord introduced himself as Larry, who claimed to be the owner of the Maxfields as well. “He said, “You can rest assured that I will return your last-month rent as long as you notify me at least one month earlier”. After I double checked with him and believed he is a gentle and honest man, I signed the lease with him. In May I learned from my professor that I gotta transfer with him to a new university in NJ in July. On June 1st when I moved in, I told Mr. Landlord about it. His words “I must take something from you” were so serious. I ended up paying the full rent instead of half of the normal price as advertised. Afterwards, he smiled and gave me a firm hand shake. Thank you so much, Mr. Hazen. I felt so impressed by your honesty.

I feel it a shame for Mr. Hazen, since he only bases his business in the North Country. If it were in a bigger city, he would probably have become a billionaire, or even more successful than Bill Gates.

Some comments on my apartment: The apartment is such great place to stay. Every time I entered the room, a pleasant aroma from the sewage greeted me with no exception. It even beaten my Glade Spray. Another good thing is that it sits on the street where the Maxfield is also located. As a big fan of music, I took pleasure from listening to some bands playing light music and people murmuring. It was a real benefit for a tenant like me. I really wished that the music would not stop. But why it came to an end as early as at 2 a.m. What a shame!

In summary, welcome to the Maxfield and the Arlington...

Oh, PBR, the bane of my craft beer-loving existence. Its taste, akin to watered-down nostalgia, leaves me yearning for the complexity of a barrel-aged imperial stout. As a self-proclaimed beer snob, the thought of PBR makes me cringe. However, there's a curious phenomenon that occurs at Maxfield's that almost redeems this sorry excuse for a brew.

Maxfield's, that quintessential dive bar tucked away in the heart of the city, possesses an uncanny ability to transform the mundane into something almost enjoyable. Surrounded by dimly lit walls adorned with decades-old memorabilia, the low hum of laughter and clinking glasses has a way of erasing the sharp edges of my disdain for PBR. Perhaps it's the camaraderie of fellow patrons, their carefree attitudes matching the simplicity of the beer.

In this grimy haven of authenticity, the cheapness of PBR becomes a badge of honor. It's as if the universe conspires to whisper, "Sometimes, simplicity is the greatest sophistication." While I still can't stand the flavor profile of this mass-produced liquid, Maxfield's enigmatic ambiance somehow turns it into a communal experience, a humble toast to shared memories and an escape from my pretentious beer palate. So, begrudgingly, I tip my begrimed hat to PBR, all thanks to the inexplicable alchemy that occurs within the walls of Maxfield's.

It’s a bad day...