Tag Archives: pub

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The name says it all.

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It was a crisp fall day, so we headed down Route 1 south to Saco to try a brewery I’d been hearing about for years.

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It’s housed in a refurbished mill complex on the river…

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And the atmosphere was wonderful. Brick walls and rustic wood.

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Naturally my husband headed for the bar where we sat behind some fancy taps.

See who’s in the middle of them?

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Rex.

Bar dog extraordinaire.

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Being a brewery we had to try a flight of everything they had on tap.

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And I enjoyed them so much I ordered a strawberry basil vodka lemonade.

How can so many different beers be so bad? Lager, stout, ale, IPA, amber, brown. Seriously, they were all sub par.

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I really wanted to like this place, but it wasn’t meant to be.

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And while my crab cake appetizer with remoulade wasn’t bad…

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The husband hated his French onion soup so another pub will be added to our never return list.

I guess I should have paid more attention.

It was all right there in the name.

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🤣

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Miscellaneous snippets.

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A little bit of this and a whole lot of nothing.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten … taking a break from strolling to survey his domain.

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You either get it or you don’t.

My husband went to the original Woodstock, then turned around and left… saying it wasn’t his scene.

Clearly he didn’t get it.

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Book banning?

Huge pet peeve.

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Funny how that works.

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King Eider’s is a fun pub on the coast.

Their sign is always equally as fun.

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A retirement job for the husband?

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My husband is still not enjoying retirement. He’s bored, antsy as hell and no matter how many times I show him the honey do list… is always looking for something to do. When he’s not twitchy? He’s moping around the house and driving me crazy.

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Damn. That sounds perfect! He has a bar in the man cave and knows how to tap a keg … he has experience!

Pardon me while I check airfare prices to Piel Island, County Cumbria.

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Two full time residents.

Soon to be three….

😉

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I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

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Stopping at the new pub everyone is raving about…

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Not having to make reservations, worry about masking or social distancing.

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Cruising the cocktail list…

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And enjoying a few boozy blueberry lemonades.

The food?

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Fabulous! A hand tossed wood fired chicken Florentine pizza for me, grilled sea scallop salad with candied pecans and strawberry vinaigrette for the husband.

Life. It finally seems to be getting back to normal.

😊

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Our local.

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This is the interior of our local pub.

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Small, rustic and not at all fancy. But the food is fresh and tasty, the drinks are strong and cheap. What more could you want?

We’re regulars and feel good supporting a local business. Our town has never had a pub before so the owners had to fight long and hard for licensing as well as acceptance. Some of the older residents of our little hamlet thought a bar would attract a bad element, but this small establishment is just as likely to be serving lunch to a troop of Girl Scouts as they are the functioning alcoholics. Lawyers and fisherman. Bankers and construction workers. Hippies and veterans. You never who will sit on the neighboring stool.

We’ve met more locals here in the past 2 years than we have living in this town for 19. And it should come as no surprise that when we introduce ourselves and explain where we live? Everyone always says… oh, the big red barn with the nice porch. Sure!

And if you’re wondering just how rural my town can be? Take a look at who pulled up the other day…

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🤣

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Someone thought this was a good idea.

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While at our local pub last week, a patron who was sitting on the other side of the bar bravely ordered this:

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Yes, you read that correctly. The beer was brewed with gummy bears. Why such an atrocity should take place I don’t know… but he laughed and gagged and promptly pushed the can back at the bartender who attempted to throw it away. I say attempted because you know my husband wasn’t going to let that happen.

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Yes, the beer was pink.

Yes, it tasted as horrible as you would imagine pink gummy bear beer would taste.

But you know what? The husband drank it anyway… because free beer is free beer.

🥴

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S Rioghal Mo Dhream

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Scotland. Home to fine whiskey, rugged highlands, a mythical lake creature, bagpipes, my ancestors… and haggis.

(If you don’t know what haggis is, consider yourself lucky and leave it at that.)

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Since the owner/bartender of our local pub is a Scot born and bred, I thought it might be fun to show up wearing a mask of my clan’s tartan the next time we drop by for a pint. Enter Amazon.

Sure enough they had one…

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Though by the look of the packaging, I’m guessing it was not made anywhere near a peat bog or by Clan MacGregor.

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Oh, and in case you’re wondering….

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The post title is my clan’s motto in Gaelic. Royal is my race.

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Well, yes.

There’s that too.

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When you have a little too much fun with vegetables.

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A woman from my town posted this the other day after visiting our neighbor’s farm stand across the street.

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And I had to laugh.

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Because it was totally something I would do.

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Hell, we brought an anatomically correct eggplant to our local pub last year.

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Needless to say it was a big hit.

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And oddly enough, is still talked about fondly.

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Shopping is not for the faint hearted.

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Our search for 30 inch tall bar chairs has begun.

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And it’s not going well.

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24 inch counter height chairs abound.

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But apparently no one else (builds a two story barn with a farmer’s porch for storage, decides they rather have a spectacular man cave, spends endless months and thousands of dollars making it attractive, contracts out construction of a full bar and) needs taller than normal chairs.

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11 furniture stores later?

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Liquid sustenance at our local pub, and the husband came home with these instead.

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I’m seriously beginning to wonder if he’s going to live out there.

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I should have known this was coming.

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The Barn Mahal is the gift that keeps on giving. It grows. It changes. It morphs into something I no longer recognize as a barn.

Why do I say this?

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Because last week my husband took me shopping for the next addition to his man cave extraordinaire.

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Yes.

He wants a refrigerator.

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And because he’s a man who demands instant gratification, he wanted to go home with it that day… which we quickly discovered was impossible. Thank you Covid 19…. yet another reason you suck.

All the refrigerators pictured on this blog, every last one of the small barn appropriate models that were on the display floor?

Unavailable.

It was enough to send us to our local pub for a drink… or two, and lunch.

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Which for me was a massive fried haddock sandwich with homemade onion rings. For the husband?

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A tool box and the light filtering blind we bought for the window we always sit in front of. The sun shines through it something fierce and we were tired of our bartender talking to us with his hand over his eyes.

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For this kindness we refused payment… support your local businesses!…but received 4 free drinks when the bill was presented.

A win win.

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And then it was back to the elusive we’ll show it to you but you can’t have it, neener neener refrigerator shopping.

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The absolutely only one anyone had in stock was this small, wonderfully inexpensive model.

The husband vetoed that. Not enough room for beer.

So we spent a fruitless day, visited 7 stores and ended up coming home to order this one online.

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Ample beer storage will be had…

But not for a week or two.

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