Frozen in time and space, etched into the collective memory of Austin, Bakehouse is a cutting-edge international restaurant circa 1983. Despite the modern lighting, the dinerish green booths, the bottles that line the walls, the cheap wood paneling, the dingy bar, and the clientele are all decidedly aging.

The restaurant isn’t good, by the way. Not at all. How could it possibly be good? A menu that combines cheese fondue, a “Cantonese Stir-Fry,” smoked chicken nachos, “Pork Loin Savorka,” chimichangas, “Boston Baked Cod,” quiche, “Stuffed Chicken Florentine,” fettucine Alfredo, “German Beef Rouladen,” and Cajun shrimp salad? Salads are limp and browning, breadings are soggy, and everything’s severely undersalted. The best approach is to stick to the smoked sausage crisp (a kolache-like creation that’s served with horseradish dipping sauce), a burger, or the serviceable breakfasts. Other than that, run for the hills.

It might be argued that Bakehouse was the grandfather of a quarter-century of haphazard fusion in the city. In a rare nod to the present, they’ve recently added Wi-Fi, but until they bring the dishes into the 21st century, we’ll stick to the hundreds of other free Wi-Fi options in town.