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The Brits are not necessarily
known for their haute cuisine. In fact, I took a trip
to London several years back and after fighting for several evenings
trying to find food that was even semi-edible settled on the fact
the only thing even palatable in the entire country was food not even
from there. That being Indian. So why, you ask, would one purposely
head for a night of beers and grub at a joint helmed by a chef who
bases her menu around British food and her time as a cook in the UK?
Well, Mr. Hipster, of course! To call this joint a gastropub is a
little bit of a stretch, but it certainly, with its pressed tin ceiling,
banquets, mish-mash of antiques and low lighting, calls to mind a
less cluttered (and a little more upscale) version of one. The whole
place has a very comfortable, neighborhood feel, bolstered by extremely
pleasant servers and a super mellow vibe. I walked in and just instantly
liked the place--food be damned. So I settled in with a Speckled Hen
and a tasty fried mozzarella, beet and walnut salad. There really
is nothing better than salty and sweet salads--trust me. I followed
it up with another beer and an olive oil braised Salmon, which was
well cooked and tasty if not jump-out-my-seat exciting. And then finished
off the meal with the requisite third beer and a cheese plate (which,
if on the menu, is actually a required order by Ms. Hipster). Overall,
the experience was extremely pleasant, the space cozy and the food,
while not terribly memorable in and of itself, waaay more in line
with what a meal should be given our hideous experience when chowing
across the pond. [MF]
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