Dead Horse Hill – #3 on the Return on the Tour

It is Saturday at nine at night and people are eating at tables and at the bar. It’s not packed, but there are still enough people at this hour to make you think they are doing well.

The name of the place is Dead Horse Hill which is a real hill here in Worcester. Of course they are not near the hill, and that I don’t know how excited I am at ordering food at a place that has a dead animal mentioned in its name. Hi mom, let me take you out for your birthday. I know how like unique cuisine, let me take you to the Dead Horse place, you’ll love it.

The bartender recognized from the time I went to Whiskey Tango two months ago for a gin and tonic (I have not written that one up yet, but I was the only one at the bar). We chatted and I asked why he was here and not at Whiskey Tango. “Got to go where the action is. There was no action there.” This is true. I was the only customer at Whiskey Tango.

The place is a nice brick wall high ceiling place with a couple interesting pieces of art on the wall. It is warm and clean and comfortable. The staff are dressed casual, all with T Shirts saying Worcester on it.

The bartender gives me my gin and tonic in a rocks glass and its a good drink. Sweet and floral. Too much ice for me, but still good. The lime was there. The drink with tax was ten dollars and seventy five cents. The most expensive drink I have had in 150 bars and restaurants visited.

The food portions were large and the food was well presented. Large enough to have half the dead horse on a plate with micro greens (kidding, it would only be a quarter horse, I mean come on)

Not a bad place for a date, not a bad place to have a dinner by yourself at the bar. Pricey, and how, but a good place. The staff were attentive and nice. Not a lot of snark going on this entry, but it was a pleasant twenty minutes sitting with a good drink in a place that will allow you to sit by yourself.

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Wicked Wing Co. -#2 on the Return Tour

The chalk board in the front of the place thanks their customers in voting them the best new restaurant in Worcester.

It is Friday at eight and it is mostly full. I get the last seat at the bar.

It is quiet for such a full place. The Sox game is on, but no music is playing. People are speaking in muted tones, as if this was a church with Jalapeno Buffalo sauce.

The gin and tonic is five dollars and thirty five cents and it tastes of syrup. It is alright. Alright, like getting out of the Registry of Motor Vehicles office in under and hour. That kind of alright.

Large platters of wings dressed in different colored sauces are paraded out to the tables.

I am trying to wonder why I feel so unengaged. It is Friday. There are wings. There is beer. Where is the joy? I check the menu, both side. No joy.

I get it.

The bartenders, two women moving and shaking and stirring, do not smile. They have stony faces. They are concentrating for the exam. They are waiting in line at the Registry. They are anywhere but at a fun place to be.

I look and the other staff also have that same serious face. Buffalo wings is serious business.

I realize that at any bar, I want the bartender to be happy to be here. I don’t need a flirty bartender, or my next best friend bartender. Just some one who seems pleased that they are here surrounded by alcohol and people. And pleased that I am one of them.

As I leave, I see one of the bartenders smile for a regular. It’s nice that she can. Maybe I need to be here for four weeks in a row before I earn a smirk. Things to aspire to.

I am sure the wings are good. Why wouldn’t they be?

The Wicked Wing Co is located at 321 West Boylston Street.

I

The Hangover Pub – Return Tour #1

The bar is the Hangover Pub on Green Street. It used to be the bar for the Banner, and then it was the Bar with the worst name ever Primo’s Extention. It is now a fancy kool kat joint. A friend said of it, “It’s a hipster bar two years too late.”

Let’s get the gin and tonic out of the way before I get all mean spirited. The drink came in a nice tapered high ball glass, the gin was Damrak. She put the lime in without me asking. It was a fine drink. Sweet and balanced. The damage was seven dollars and forty five cents. The forty five cents is to piss me off. I know I know I know, it’s for the tax. But I can’t explain it but I would have been happier if the drink was seven fifty. Round up or round down, but hide the damned tax please. (wow, six months since I was doing the tour and still this bothers me)

Let’s talk about the positive. I went at eight thirty on Tuesday and there were people there. About twenty or so. Some eating. Some failing badly at dates. Most were drinking strangely hued drinks. The place was clean and well set up. Nice designs. Decent selection of bottles.

Let’s talk some shit about the place. If we must. For those who read the blog, you know that I don’t like TVs in the bar. I want to be in a bar, and not focus on the game or the game show. My bartender friends think I am an idiot about that. TV keeps people at the bar. And that means they drink more. Bartenders like that dividend.

Let’s talk about it’s name. Do we really want a bar called Hangover? It’s a stte of pain and discomfort, right? Shouldn’t we just have the Cirrhosis Saloon?

The thing about the Hangover Pub is that they have TVs, but they don’t. They have two flat screen TVs installed over the bar, but they don’t have programming. They were showing a slideshow of photos. Photos of the bar the Hangover Pub. There was some Worcester color photos, but mostly it was shots of the food being made in the kitchen and shots of the bar. The bar that I am in.

Why do I need photos of a place I am currently in. Hey, look, that’s the bar stool I’m sitting in! It’s like I’m famous or something. My bar stool is on TV! It’s like being forced to look at vacation photos from someone with acute agoraphobia. “That’s when I made it to the living room. That’s when I was able to run into the kitchen for a few minutes, it was tough, but man it was fun. Another shot of my armchair. Doesn’t it look pretty in the late day sun?”

Usually I might write about all the things I noticed, but I was transfixed by the slideshow. My favorite shot was when it showed a black and white vintage photo of what I believe was the old Worcester Mental Hospital, and that was followed by a beauty shot of a shrimp appetizer. “I’ll have that and a lobotomy please.”

Let’s talk about how I feel about the place. Bars that try to catch a set vibe might work for a while, but it deprives it from creating its own unique vibe. It’s a look how hip I am kind of place. It wasn’t bad. And if I was trying to impress the stray lumbersexual, I would go there.

The Hangover Pub is at 102 Green Street

 

 

 

Sorry, Life Interrupted

Got a comment from bob asking why I haven’t started the new mini tour. I have, but life got in the way, and I haven’t written them up. I will get the first three going in the next week. Hope you are well and drinking things other than well.

Dante