Saturday, June 13, 2009
The Wife and I have decided that to make better use of our motorcycles, we'll start looking for small, independent bar and grill/cafe places to eat. Number one, where we live is really, really flat. Which means there's not much of a reason for roads to twist and turn. So, once we're out of town, everything is pretty much straight, with the occasional stop sign. Riding for the joy of scenery is pretty much a no-go. Secondly, riding to the same three food franchises gets boring fast. So, we will now seek out heart disease in new and exciting places.
Tonight, that was Tank's Bar and Grill. A small hole-in-the-wall bar on a dying main street. But it was full, as the local farming population was coming in for beer and ribs. And the ribs are worth it; a foot-long rack of falling off the bone, smothered in BBQ sauce, delicious pig. Not usually liking ribs (too many fat-filled, leathery meat experiences), I'd ordered the grilled sixteen inch taco. Which was fine, in a "meh" sort of way. Basically, the Old Milwaukee beer I chose for the hell of it (memories of high school keggers past) was entirely appropriate for the taco. Not that great, but better than nothing. The ribs though; I'm going to steal The Wife's leftovers and figure out what beer goes with them. It's going to take a lot of ribs, I'm thinking.