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| - I have no idea what in the hell a "Gastropub" is. It sounds nasty to me, like some sort of stomach illness. I don't know why restaurants can't just be restaurants anymore, but I guess we as a society have demanded this sort of "creativity" from our eating establishments, so we need to lie in the bed we've made.
Wow, that was philosophical.
Regardless of all that pointless, stupid banter, I really like District.
When you come in, don't expect to be passed a menu. Why? Because you need to get off your lazy butt and read some of the chalk boards lining the walls. If that sounds like work to you, you're probably gorging yourself on McDonalds, so you don't deserve a place like Distric anyways.
Take a quick hop around the room, wink at some good looking patrons and then make your way back to your seat where a waitress will stop by to take your order. The night I went the place was absolutely buzzing, but our waitress didn't miss a beat. She even let us sit at a table reserved for someone else at a later time if we promised we'd be out of there before they showed up.
Now THAT, my friends, is service.
I ordered a Hairy Eyeball. it cost me $3.75 and came in a mason jar. That's a reasonably priced drink and a by-golly-gee fun way to drink it. It reminded me of being a kid at Montana's, only now I could have grown-up wobbly pops.
Anyways, I had a BLT and fries. Anywhere else, that would be an underwhelming order, but here it was great (with one small exception).
1. The bread was expertly toasted by a toasting wizard.
2. I wouldn't normally call bacon an aphrodisiac, but when it hit my tongue, strange things happened.
3. My lettuce was fresher than the new Childish Gambino album.
4. The tomatoes were juicier than a Kardashian heiny.
5. Chipotle aioli. It was wonderful.
My fries were crisp. Their skin smelled of happiness
.
My ONE and ONLY complaint stems from their ketchup. I am a ketchup purist, and this was some sort of hippy attempt at ketchup which I fully appreciate but nonetheless was not over the moon about.
But that's just me, and ketchup that is not to my liking is not enough reason for me to give this place anything less than a serious recommendation. The food is locally sourced.
They have a bucket of bacon. They apparently have the greatest poutine known to mankind (though I cannot attest to this myself). Apparently the menu is always changing, and that gives me a serious reason to return.
Great service. Delicious food. Creative menu items and presentation.
I'll definitely look past the dorky name and definitely be back here next time I find my stomach rumblin' near 11th.
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