No, we didn’t eat Trigger.

But Trip Advisor did lead us to one of the best restaurants ever.

The White Horse in New Preston Connecticut.

Yo, Trigger. Trot across the street will ya…

It was quite nice inside with warm woods, and a rustic English country pub atmosphere.

Yes, that’s a motorcycle enshrined behind the bar.

But not just any motorcycle. This was a 1920 Indian Scout, the first production year for what would eventually evolve into the famous Chief.

Sweet!!

But more importantly….

I began working my way down the martini list.

The Ginger Horse was first up… and first rate.

While we cruised the menu, I noticed there were some very interesting pieces scattered  around the various rooms.

Take a look.

The husband ordered a chicken tender appetizer, and the presentation was kind of cute.

So while he ate, I drank. And the White Horse Cosmo was so good I forgot to photograph it.

Husband opted for the Chicken Pot Pie… and talk about presentation.

Isn’t that just the best?

I went for the Kobe beef burger with caramelized onions and blue cheese, which had a horse grilled into the bun. They’re nothing if not loyal to their brand.

Drink #3 was the Freedom Horse, because sure…

I can be loyal too.

And who could resist their desserts?

Not me.

Banoffi Pie – toffee, banana cream filling, and whipped cream with a chocolate drizzle. Favored at Buckingham Palace, they say.

I agree with the Queen.  It was amazing…

And came with prerequisite horse.

Trigger would be proud.

Okay, okay. Technically Trigger wasn’t white.

But Buttermilk, Dale Evans’ horse, was.

And who cares?

They’re both dead, stuffed and won’t mind if I take a little artistic license.

After a full day with butterflies and bugs, we headed to a restaurant that came highly recommended by friends.

But first, some random Berkshire scenery.

All of New England is famous for it’s churches….

And Massachusetts is no exception.

I particularly like the ones made of stone.

There wasn’t much in the way of bright autumn color, but every now and then we caught a glimpse.

A pie bar?

Now that something yours truly will belly up to any old day…..

As evening was descending we drove through Williamstown….

A lovely town, home to Williams college….

And more of those impressive stone churches.

We had a hard time finding this particular restaurant…

As it really was in an old freight yard on the other side of the tracks. We stumbled around out back for a while, trying to find the entrance… when the owner took pity on us and hollered out the window, “Get in here you silly gits. It’s raining… or hadn’t you noticed?”

Ah… a snarky barkeep. I felt at home already.

It was a friendly place, with lots of locals giving each other a pleasantly hard time.

I can heartily recommend the cranberry margaritas. The first went down quickly, the second was tasty… and the third? The husband said I enjoyed it, so I’ll have to take his word for it.

Of course, he had a few of these. So make of that what you will…

The French Onion Soup burger sounded interesting but once again, my inner pasta demon was calling.

Pan seared scallops and shrimp in a lemon and white wine sauce with spinach, tomatoes, garlic and parmesan cheese served over homemade fettuccine with garlic bread. Holy Hell, that was the richest thing I’ve ever eaten. Almost too rich… if there is such a thing.

The husband opted for pan seared scallops that were then baked with a seafood stuffing in a garlic cream sauce, baked potato and seasonal veggies.

We poured ourselves out of there.

Literally and figuratively.