Well, My Captain didn’t take me to Alexanders this weekend to wash the taste of Growlers off my palate, but he did take me to a close second: Dogfish Head Restaurant.
I love that man.
We went with our good friends Dutch and Leslie. Actually, we went with Dutch, and waited for Leslie who was meeting us later. She was coming in from her jet-setting life as an RN, Cystic Fibrosis specialist.
So it was just the three of us walking into a PACKED house. The wait was over 40 minutes for a table, so we took our little magic-dinner-homing-device from the hostess and sauntered over to the irish-like pub. Well, ‘sauntered’ probably isn’t a good description, it’s more like we elbowed and shouldered our way in. People were packed tighter than sardines in a can, man.
This is Dutch, doing his best to ruin any photo I try to take of him. My Captain is laughing on the right, there. You should know that Dutch is a professional photographer, so he delighted in foiling any attempt I made with my little amateur Kodak Easyshare. What a butthead.
So I took this picture of him and am posting it for the world to see.
Love ya, man!
What we needed, besides libation, was a place to sit. Mama Boe does not have knees that like to stand for long periods of time. And there are few things more grating on a man’s nerves than a whiney Mama Boe. My Captain was on the look out, giving the Stink-Eye to anyone who looked remotely like they might be leaving.
We never got a seat at the pub. ***sigh*** So much for his stink-eye.
When our magic wand finally vibrated and lit up, and I won’t tell you where it was when it did so, we proudly walked to our very own table, as if we’d won some kind of lottery. People were jealous. Ha.
“You Da Man!”
“No! YOU da Man!”
This is Tim, HE was totally the Man. The one who kept bringing us delicious goodness after delicious goodness. We love Tim.
And he didn’t bat an eye when the guys kept referring to him as “man-servant”. Had I been their server, I would have spit in their drinks before I served them. And now that I think about it, I am not entirely sure that Tim didn’t do exactly that.
Alright, it’s time to talk food. All you skinny people, you will not understand the absolute holiness of the rest of this post, and might as well move on. And eat a sandwich while you’re at it, please. Thank you.
Here is the appetizer menu…or, at least the part that I cared about:
See that bit about the Andouille Cajun Egg Roll? THAT, my friends, is the nectar of the Gods. I’m not kidding. I. am. not. kidding. Crunchy goodness on the outside, with spicy pork and peppers and all kinds of naughty bits on the juicy inside. OH MY GOODNESS.
But be advised…. you have to guard it. It came to me like this:
I looked away to reset my camera, and then it looked like this:
And Dutch was chewing as inconspicuously as possible. Nrrrrrr.
My Captain always…ALWAYS gets the Crab soup when we go to Dogfish. It’s got ale in it. Say no more:
Wanna see something funny? Dutch ordered a Chesapeake Burger. Tim, hesitated, glanced at Dutch’s empty beer snifter, and then gently said, “We, uh, don’t have a Chesapeake Burger. We have a Chesapeake Pizza.”
To which Dutch replied, “Yes. I’ll have that, and I’ll take it medium-rare, please.”
Tim didn’t bat an eye, bowed slightly as any good man-servant would do, and hustled back to the kitchen to make fun of us. And possibly spit in our food.
The Chesapeake Pizza:
And here is the AMAZING meal that My Captain got. Remember the Shepherd’s Pie he got last Friday at that horrendous restaurant called Growlers? Remember how that disappointed us so? Here is the picture of it if you can’t remember:
(Dry bread, Smooshie taters, way over-cooked frozen veggies in the meat sauce underneath.)
Well, for only two dollars more at Dogfish Head Restaurant, we got this:
Oh. My. Lord.
Huge chunks of fresh veggies. Fresh Mushrooms. Ale in the gravy. BIG chunks of beef. Tater’s mashed chunky with their beautiful red skins still on.
We finished it all. I drank wonderful chocolate martinis, Dutch and My Captain drank Dogfish Head’s own “Heaven and Hell” (a layering of their famous 120 IPA, and their World Wide Stout ), and the “Noble Rot”, which is a blur between beer and wine. Don’t ask me to explain it, other than they ordered it, they drank it, and they were happy. Happy! Happy!!!
Finally, FINALLY, Dutch’s saint of a wife, Leslie, the most unflappable woman I know (I lovingly call her Nurse Ratchet, but that’s another story that involves a fully clothed her and a naked me in the shower post surgery last year) came. Dutch gave her a sloppy, happy-like-a-drunk-puppy-dog greeting:
It’s ok, don’t worry, she did the driving…..
Dogfish Head Restaurant….give it a try! But, er, don’t tell ’em we sent ya. That might not end well.