| rev:text
| - "we really need a table inside, Mike. no more of this sitting outside sh#t"
"don't worry, I'll sweet-talk the girl at the door...hey honey, I need a table for seven. you can get that for us inside? thanks, sweetheart."
the benefits of working in the 1950s is that I have absolutely no grasp of what it means to be PC.
the final stop on our Cleveland Crunk Crusade happened to be this place. it's listed as Bar Cento and Bier Markt at the same address, but it seems Bar Cento is the more upscale bar/restaurant area, while Bier Markt is the bar area which happens to have food too. sounds confusing, especially when you've been drinking for several hours and the waitress hands your table BOTH menus...but yeah.
excellent list of import beers here. I made a beeline for the Delirium Tremens Nocturnum, as that stuff is ridiculously delish. that was my only beer here, as I had had a fair amount to drink already at the three previous bars, and needed to prepare my liver for Jen's birthday party on Saturday. they also had a wine sampler which my cousin Anna tried.
one of my cousins ordered a cheese and fig plate...okay, kinda random, but he enjoyed it. another one ordered pommes frites, which - and this sounds hard to believe - were about on par with the infamous Pommes Frites here in New York. damn son!
atmosphere was a bit of a cross between a lounge and a nice sports bar, if that makes any sense.
highlight of the night: a somewhat drunk Mike B teaching Italian to some random shmucks. I started out teaching them how to compliment their girls, but they didn't seem to like that. this is why I have cousins who are bigger than me. frisk 'em, Big G!
you can't take me anywhere.
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