Let us all take a moment to feel sorry for Axe and Palm, Stanford Dining’s much-hyped new café in Old Union. For all of the griping the University gets about its bureaucratic labyrinth and draconian party policies, the much-hyped, heavily ballooned opening of Old Union suggests a softer side to the administration: a well-intentioned, moneyed uncle who desperately wants his nephews to like his Christmas gift.

Unfortunately for all involved, Axe and Palm is an extravagant gift most Stanford students didn’t ask for, and its displacement of the iconic, beloved CoHo has turned student opinion against the café before it has even had a chance to make a case for itself.

The quality of the cuisine is mixed. Axe and Palm serves an array of foods; the ubiquitous to-go items that grace the coolers at all Stanford Dining-run cafes on campus are present here, too, in orderly, refrigerated shelves. The pre-packaged sushi, sandwiches, salads, organic drinks and fruits are refreshingly familiar and, as is the case with most Stanford Dining-run establishments, tend to be the most consistently tasty options at Axe and Palm.

For those craving caffeine, the café also offers the same range of drinks from Peet’s Coffee that the CoHo served up in its heyday, as well as pre-made pastries from Peet’s. (As far as I could tell, the quality of the caffeinated beverages seemed fairly consistent with those from other Stanford establishments. One of my dining companions, an unnamed but infamously flamboyant student government official, claimed that his cappuccino featured higher-quality froth than the same drink from the CoHo, but closer inspection proved that he was full of shit.)

Cold desserts are a welcome addition to the central campus café; Axe and Palm serves up milkshakes and root beer floats, in addition to sundaes and banana splits, although the free-standing barrels of ice cream featured in the CoHo near the end of its reign are nowhere to be found. Although the chocolate shake is on the watery side and does not quite live up to the campus-wide standard set by Stern Cyber Café’s shake (which features real chocolate ice cream and chocolate syrup, in addition to whole milk), it bests Lakeside LateNite’s attempt, which combines scoops of droopy vanilla with a cascade of syrup.

The hot-serve menu, on the other hand, is less appetizing. First off, there are no crepes. Axe and Palm has done away with perhaps the most popular food item at the CoHo in favor of a made-fresh menu that’s almost identical to that of Lakeside LateNite with little of the panache that makes the Lagunita dining complex a haven for greasy late-night snacks.

An order of French fries brought forth a small basket of the spuds cut shoestring-style, lukewarm, limp and over-seasoned; the general consensus at my table (which consisted largely of college-aged males, no less) was that the fries weren’t worth the calories. The turkey avocado sandwich consisted of a generous helping of turkey, unmemorable pepperjack cheese, wilted Iceberg lettuce, onion and tomato, all served on the signature giant stale roll that Stanford Dining seems to buy, hoping that somebody, someday, will walk in looking for a sandwich whose bread overwhelms its contents. The avocado in said turkey avocado sandwich was nowhere to be found.

The Caesar chicken salad tossed by the kitchen featured slices of chicken breast, crisp croutons and the reasonably tasty Caesar dressing that comes with every pre-packaged Caesar salad on campus; the browning and wilted greens, however, were of lower quality than the salads next to the to-go counter.

Our verdict: if you crave a salad, make a short walk across the street to Tresidder, where the tossed salads are genuinely delicious and fresh, or grab a to-go. There’s no reason to order from the kitchen, especially since the dressing comes on the side in a one-use plastic container, making it abundantly clear that the friendly folks in the kitchen just tossed a pre-packaged salad onto a plastic plate. In fact, if you want a filling meal — a sandwich, a salad, some fries, real ice-cream — hop on over to Tresidder, if it’s open.

None of the members of my party tried the breakfast items, which include standard plates like breakfast sandwiches, eggs, pancakes and toast, but, having tried breakfast at various Stanford Dining venues (which, as I hope I have emphasized enough, is the monopoly that controls most campus cuisine), we assumed they’d probably be safe. For increased familiarity, Stanford Dining has even placed, behind the counter, the giant tubes of cereal that are present in every dining hall. Why yes, you are using your Cardinal Dollars on the same people who make your free dining hall food!

To be fair, Stanford Dining was also responsible for the oversight of the CoHo; what Axe and Palm lacks in comparison to both the café it has displaced and the nearby Tresidder Union is a sense of identity. This shortcoming is even evident from the interior, which (as promised) features gorgeous granite surfaces everywhere and combines the diner theme with that of a sit-down café. The sitting area is literally split into two, with a cluster of booths in the section nearest to the counter and tables with moveable chairs in the windowed section. The wall decorations — vector art and photographs by Stanford students, presumably — are chic and minimalist, and they complement the tan walls very well, but it’s hard to tell what the sitting space is supposed to be. Is it a reinterpretation of Green Library’s sunny, window-side sitting area? Is it a reinvention of the cracked wood tables at the CoHo? Are we in a jazzed-up, idealized diner? One of my dining companions mentioned that the space reminded him of the Treehouse. And so it does, with its juxtaposition of booths and free-standing tables — except that the Treehouse serves much better food and a jolly array of alcoholic beverages, and it has a clear sense of what it is (a sports bar).

It’s hard to tell exactly what Axe and Palm wants to be. And it’s hard to tell if students will want to be there, especially given that Axe and Palm is essentially a full-day LateNite operation, but without the shabby-chic charm (and crepes) of the CoHo.