We do not give numbers out of ten. A game that is brilliant for four experienced players and unplayable with your parents does not have a single score — so each note says what it is good at and where it falls over.
The teach takes ninety seconds and the first game is genuinely competitive, which is close to unique. Where it earns its place is the fifth play — the moment you realise the tiles you decline matter more than the ones you take.
Where it bites: Gets mean at two players in a way people do not expect from something that looks like a spa advert.
Calm, tactile, and forgiving of a bad opening. Nobody is ever eliminated from contention, which makes it a good choice when the group has mixed experience.
Where it bites: The scoring is quiet — new players often do not realise how far behind they are until the final tally.
The best game we own and the one we play least. Every decision is interesting and the network building creates genuine tension over shared infrastructure.
Where it bites: Forty minutes of teaching before anyone touches a piece. Do not attempt on a weeknight.
Enormous. Two and a half hours that feel like ninety minutes, with more viable strategies than we have explored. The card pool means no two games open the same way.
Where it bites: Table space is a real constraint. We have abandoned a session because the board did not fit.
The social lubricant of the shelf. Works at eight players, works with people who have never played anything, works after a drink.
Where it bites: Falls apart if one person takes the clue-giving too seriously. That is a feature at some tables and a problem at others.
Ratings compress everything that matters into a single figure and then people argue about the figure. Play counts are more honest: a game we have played twenty times is one we reach for, whatever we might claim about the one we admire and never open.