We ended our outing with an afternoon snack at a favorite British eatery, The Pub. We have a thing for exploring different ethnicities of cuisine, and this establishment serves up some unusual samplings and some expected standards in fine style.
Yes, I consider this an ethnicity. I should point out we also do African, Thai, Scottish, Native American, and anything else we can get our hands on, usually either by hitting a festival, a restaurant, of attempting it at home. We like to explore the melting pot that makes us up; I have Scottish, Welsh, German, and Mohawk in me, while Mr. Torres is Spanish, English, French, and Scottish.
The African? We just fell in love with the variations. But I digress.
Plus, the beer menu is AMAZING.
Little known fact: we make our own beer. Here. At Rehab.
That's somehow so wrong.
To start with, the place is gorgeous with fantastic detailing. Click on the pic and zoom in, kids; we see things we never noticed before every time we're there.
Just in case you forget what nationality is represented here. Oh, and the male servers wear kilts, the women wear tiny plaid skirts. We pretend not to look.
Do you know what a "Dur" face is? Here, allow the Minions to demonstrate!
That is indeed my Twisted Thistle in the foreground. We had some wonderful goodies like fish-n-chips, fried pickles, calamari, and of course, Sammy had a cheeseburger. He's the ultimate authority on the perfect cheeseburger. Since this is a spot where they'll actually allow a medium rare hunk of ground flesh to be served, it's a favorite.
We were too stuffed to consider dessert. We thought about it. We read the selections. We agreed upon two. We groaned and sat. In the end, we figured it would be best to slink home, so we quickly snapped some shots of the glorious window boxes outside.
I promise, I pinched no samples to root. Not a one. I swear.
Pardon us. We need a nap.