The other day I went to the Mill Street Brewpub for an early dinner/ late lunch. I figured that it’d be a great way to get to know my new neighbours and integrate myself accordingly into my new ‘hood. I’m greeted at the door with an ashtray and the promise of great beer. Nice. Maybe I can make a few smoking buddies here before I quit in the new year. There’s something about bonding over a common flaw. Nothing quite like a good old cancer stick bringing people together.
Above: Yours Truly at the Mill Street Brewery’s front entrance. At this point, I’m starving so please excuse the funny look on my face.
If the Mill Street Brewery can be summed up in a word, it would be charming. The waiters were helpful and friendly, in spite of the Scottish kilts they were wearing. To my surprise, the food didn’t take long at all to arrive. Here’s what we had:
My friend ordered the salmon nicoise salad ($17). It’s a blend of beans, baby potatoes, cherry tomatoes, and olives, and hard-boiled egg. The sauce is a tangy lemon vinaigrette, which balances out the salmon nicely. She let me try some of hers, and although the salmon was a bit on the dry side, it wasn’t too bad.
As we enjoy our food, I realize that I chose an odd hour to come to the brewpub. I explain to our very cute waiter that I’m new to the neighbourhood and I hope to meet some new people here. He gives me a sympathetic look like I’m a lost puppy and tells me to come back after 6. “It’s usually a lot more happening then,” he says. He pauses and glances around the tables surrounding us. “Plus, you’ll find the crowd more appealing in the evenings or weekends.”
I’m going to go back this weekend. Though the food was great that day, I didn’t get the opportunity to test out their promise of great beer or a better crowd. But hey. As the new kid on the block, I’m not expecting that much. All I’m looking for is a smoking buddy. And maybe if I’m lucky, that cute waiter will give me more tips on the area….this time without the embarrassing kilt.