The sign reminds us of a 1980s youth group advertisement. There’s the font we can only describe as Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo, a confusing rainbow of colors, and a clunky saucepan clip-arted in the corner. The mission is at least stated clearly at the bottom, “Eat Globally.” But this isn’t eating globally so much as it is getting the CliffsNotes on global cuisines. Hey, CliffsNotes can be satisfying; they perform a service, get you by. You might even have something convincing to add to future conversations on the subject. But beware basing your arguments on these dishes—they tend to get the facts all wrong.

The formidable menu is divided into cutesy categories like Sticks (satay skewers, for example), Stuffed (tacos and samosas), Bowls, and Buns. The queue to the counter is terrorized by a display of prepared items congealing under lamps, a worse deterrent than the customer’s ignorance of a “Cowboy Chicken Burrito” would have been. There’s also a modest display of ready-to-eat healthy choices like salads and wraps that might be the best outcome here.

Press on, if you must. Lemony hummus and un-smoky baba ghanoush can be easily confused for one another; better to hit the store for Tom’s Tabooley. And sorry, banh mi lovers, you still have to drive north of 183 to get a good one. This one’s just grilled pork (good), a fleck of cilantro, and a shred or two of pickled vegetables in tough bread.

Your best bet, when this far out of Rome, is to do what Romans would, and order classic American items, like a $1 breakfast taco, or a serviceable Chicago dog. Not that you can really get away from Americana, even while ordering a “Greek” shish kebab of beef, red peppers, onion, and mushrooms. It’s essentially your 4th of July dinner, but with an extremely citric marinade. One presumes the accompanying white sauce is a CliffsNotes tzatziki, but it’s hard to tell: it tastes more like French’s onion dip. A global disaster ensues beneath the kebab, in the form of a vaguely Asian slaw with ginger and sesame, and yellow rice of the sort you buy in cellophane tubes.

Better are items that don’t posture so much as play, like a kogi dog, a savory, juicy hot dog with Sriracha and more of that Asian slaw and mustard. Then again, the dry bun is a buzzkill. Even cupcakes have been dry and crumby. So just who is STReat for? Given that it’s a few blocks from the UT campus, we’d offer it as a suitable substitute for cafeteria food; but at noon on a weekday, you’re more likely to find the administrative set. Then again, the student union is probably the last place they’d want to eat.