| rev:text
| - it was a snowy night and all through the danforth there was no one in sight -
except for the dummies like us who went out for a bite to eat.
we veered into here probably because it was the closest pub to pape and danforth which is where we got off the bus. to be honest we probably would have walked as far as broadview, had we not found this place first - there is no replacement for good pub grub.
it turns out that my wife used to hang out here, but not at this location. there is a court jester around yonge and eglinton or yonge and st. clair that she used to frequent in high school.
(ahhhh, those WERENT the days.)
i was pleased to sift through a list of beers on tap, some of which i didnt recognize. i dont remember which one i had, but it was one i hadnt tried or heard of before.
so a few sips of beer and my feet are starting to warm up. my bones are now as soft and supple as bones can be and not feeling like the brittle chicken bones that they were when i walked in from the cold.
we decide to split a spinach salad, my wife gets spicy cajun fries and i get the jester burger. it has cheddar cheese and tomatoes INSIDE the burger. that comes with a heaping plate of poutine....because i ordered it that way (go ahead and say it...piggie.)
well soon enough our friend comes to join us and its a rollicking good time. my wife and i are polishing off this spinach salad that has sauteed mushrooms in it and a nice creamy dressing but falters with its cris de coeur croutons that are drenched with oil. i try several times to eat them (like an idiot - if i cant trust my own goddamn tongue for taste then i have more problems than i know.) and despite how sexy they look i finally decline.
the burger that arrives is large and in charge and juicy. i alternate between that and the torrent of potatoes sliced and diced and drenched in a beefy and cheesy singsong they call The Poutine (because, of course, a burger filled with cheese, literally, isnt enough) and like the stupid croutons, i have to internally wrestle with myself not to commit one of those seven deadly sins and have spacey come in through the back door to make me eat until i explode and so i decide to leave some for the gods. or the kitchen stuff, who knows.
we contemplate playing one of the twenty or so board games they have there, but end up gabbing away, welcoming yet another friend, and taking the occasional android glance at the teevee.
when its time, we trudge out into the snow, bundled up, eyes squinting in defiance at gusts of wind and bid each other adieu.
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