Every review, ranked by how much I'd miss it

A calm little game about birds that tables get weirdly competitive over.

Lovely tiles, simple rules, and a surprising amount of quiet cruelty.

The economic game that sits at number one, and earns it the hard way.

One-word clues, two teams, and a lot of yelling across the coffee table.

A co-op where you are the island fighting back, and it does not go easy on you.

Claim train routes, hoard cards, and quietly ruin someone else's plans.

Draft cards, build a civilization, and somehow seat seven people without anyone waiting.

Build a modern zoo, and plan to teach the rules for a good while.

Deck-building meets worker placement in the desert, louder and meaner than before.

Save the world together, or spend an hour arguing about how you're going to lose.

Build a little medieval countryside one tile at a time, then fight over the good fields.

Cooperative Pandemic that scars itself a little more every time you play it.

The one that started a thousand game nights, and one or two genuine arguments.

A hundred hours of tactical dungeon-crawling that lives on your table for a year.

Build a beautiful machine, then watch it turn a red rock blue.

The spice must flow, and so must your agents, into exactly the right spots.

The all-day galactic epic that people remember for years.

The whole War of the Ring on your table, dice, doom, and all.

The whole galactic civil war on your table, and it's really a duel for two.

All the Gloomhaven you wanted, none of the table-eating sprawl.

A space-terraforming engine builder that rewards planning and punishes hesitation.

The Cold War on a tabletop, and you're holding cards that betray you.

A space-race engine builder where you actually feel like you're hunting for aliens.

The roguelike deck-builder that somehow survived the trip to your tabletop.

Roll two dice, build the prettiest little kingdom of efficiency you've ever obsessed over.

You run a civilization on a budget of four actions, and every one of them hurts to spend.

7 Wonders Duel goes to Mordor, and somehow comes back better.

A giant frozen campaign that asks for a year of your life and mostly earns it.

A cattle drive that's secretly one of the smartest engines you'll ever build.

Two hours of cotton, coal, and quietly ruining each other's plans.

A whole galactic empire built and burned in one evening, not one weekend.

The best two-player game most couples and roommates end up keeping.

It's the Alien movie you get to play, betrayal and all.

Gorgeous mechs, a brewing cold war, and almost nobody throws a punch.

A giant Viking optimization puzzle that hands you too many good options on purpose.

A goofy office-fantasy campaign that turns deck-building into a story you can't stop telling.

A Roman trade game where your hand of cards is the whole engine and the whole scoreboard.

Indiana Jones meets a clean engine builder, and somehow it works.

You herd cows to Kansas City, and somehow it's the best puzzle on your shelf.

Two pilots, one runway, and almost no talking allowed.

A Lovecraftian campaign in a card box, where your investigator scars over time.

Cute woodland critters wage a brutal, lopsided war for the forest.

A bag of little wooden people that slowly becomes the engine you've been dreaming about.

Terraform the land, build your engine, and win without ever rolling a die.

A video-game power fantasy crammed into a box of poker chips and custom dice.

A brutal, beautiful fight over water that punishes sloppy planning.

A brain-melting solo puzzle disguised as a fantasy adventure.

Four classes fight over one economy, and nobody gets to play it safe.

A brutal electric car factory where the boss is out to get you.

Adorable woodland critters, a giant cardboard tree, and a surprisingly sharp little engine inside.

A trick-taking puzzle where talking is basically against the rules.

Build a Tuscan vineyard, and somehow worker placement has never gone down this smooth.

Flick a wooden disc, chase the 20, fall in love by the third round.

A racing game that finally makes the dumb part of your brain happy and the smart part too.

You build a hero, you punch a villain, and you'll want to do it again immediately.

Build a deck, rob a dungeon, and run for the exit before the dragon eats you.

The friendliest train game grows up over twelve nights and never gets scary.

Build a fast-food empire with zero luck and zero mercy.

A tight little card puzzle wearing a city-builder's costume.

A gorgeous, brutal game of switching sides in 19th-century Afghanistan.

Lose your mind on purpose, then go punch a god in the face.

A gorgeous little nature puzzle you'll finish smiling, even when you lose.

Terra Mystica grows up, adds homework, and somehow gets even better.

The role-selection classic that taught a generation of Euro fans how to think.

A gorgeous, brain-melting puzzle about building a Mars colony one interlocking system at a time.

A Cold War spy campaign hiding inside the Pandemic engine you already know.

A calm little puzzle of hexes and critters that's smarter than it looks.

Worker placement where you borrow from your own future and pay for it later.

A dwarf farming sandbox that lets you build almost anything you want.

A grimdark campaign where the boss fights are the whole reason you showed up.

The farming game where your family is always one harvest from going hungry.

A Viking brawl where dying gloriously can win you the game.

A Downton Abbey fantasy with a sharp Euro engine humming underneath.

Werewolf grew up, got clever, and stopped making dead people leave the room.

Roll the dice, serve the strudel, charm the emperor, sweat every turn.

Rebuild a ruined city while every single action quietly feeds three others.

A whole meaty Euro squeezed into nine turns and a tiny box.

A post-apocalyptic Pandemic that flips the whole formula and makes you build the map as you go.

A hand-painted open world you sail through one session at a time, and it can absolutely wreck you.

A worker placement game built on giant turning gears, where patience is the whole strategy.