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| - Fish and chips will settle just about any dining dispute.
Don't believe me?
The next time you and your squeeze can't decide where to eat, just say "fish and chips" as non-chalantly as possible.
Nothing can withstand the suggestive awesomeness that is fish n' chips. Not even vegan cupcakes and soy lattes.
I wanted sushi and Misty S wanted Greek. So naturally we ended up here.
I usually have a rule that if I'm not feeling a place within the first few minutes, I leave.
Walking in expecting shamrocks and songs with drinkable rhythms, I found a middle-age grope fest accompanied by the smooth and pedantic melodies of 3 Doors Down and some country singer who sounded like but wasn't necessarily Wifebeater McGraw. If there isn't a country singer with that name, there should be.
Needless to say, I wasn't feeling it.
But there was a feeling inside of me (hunger, perhaps) beckoning me to stay.
Waiting for our potato skins to come, I looked at my glass of water and wished I had splurged on a soda or something. It would make having to hear "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" and watching people older than my parents feel each other up a little more bearable.
At least there would be bubbles.
I wanted to get all indignant about the potato skins taking forever, but when I saw the hostess/waitress/bartender walking out with our skins and realizing she was the only employee on duty, I shut my mouth before I made an ass of myself.
The potato skins were amazing. They were crunchy, creamy, and smothered in corned beef, not those flavorless bacon bits you'll find at Friday's or Applebee's.
I belong at Applebee's? No dude, YOU belong at Applebee's. Because you suck.
The fish and chips were exquisite. So is the word "exquisite". I really need to find a way to work that more into my day to day dialog.
I've never had cod that massive before. It was big like my ego and juicy like my gossip. I know. That second one was a stretch. But seriously, it was fucking gargantuan. As I drowned it in lemon juice and malt vinegar, I shivered to think of all the lesser fish I have been duped into eating.
I was really impressed with the fries, in part because I in my endless skepticism expected steak fries, which are always soggy before you even bite into them. But not today, apparently. Instead I got hot, thick, and crispy chips.
They tasted so good that I felt bad desecrating them with the contents of a two dollar bottle of heinz ketchup left at lukewarm temperature. And not even the good pulpy kind. Seriously, does nobody serve REAL ketchup around here?
So instead I dipped them in tartar sauce. It was exquisite.
I shouldn't comment on the coleslaw, since my taste is admittedly skewed. I like mine with lots of mayo and lots of sugar. Occasionally raisins or pineapples.
But I'm sure if you did the Pepsi challenge with their 'slaw and say, KFC's 'slaw, 9 out of 10 people from third world countries would tell you that Rosie's was fresher and tastier. And that the asshole from Burger King's check still hasn't come in the mail.
I can't wait for me and Misty S to disagree on where to go out for lunch so we can come here again.
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