The gal clutching a stack of menus shouts, “Hey, Gary!” to a shirtless man riding by on a bike. More than one diner dangles his elbow over the wall that demarks the Anchor’s patio as if on a Sunday drive. The Venice-casual vibe at this speck of a spot would seem ho-hum were it not for the food: a lobster roll doused in shaved truffles, braised octopus with chorizo and chimichurri. Chicken and waffles are, in reality, Jidori chicken wings fried in waffle batter with a maple syrup reduction. We don’t throw around phrases like “evil genius,” but we think this time it applies. There are IPAs on tap and a crisp Vermentino worth sipping slowly. This is a hang, after all.