One thing I have discovered, house hunting makes you hungry. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a side effect of staring at so many kitchens without being able to look in the refrigerator. (Are we supposed to be looking in the fridge?) One of the things I stumbled across while cruising a prospective neighborhood yesterday was a new restaurant. Well, new to me anyway.
The Main Street Pub is aptly named and has the potential to be a main staple as well. Hand-painted flowers decorate the windows facing the street luring customers to try greener pastures. Located at 1730 28th Street SW in Wyoming, Main Street has a hardwood character that makes me look around to see if “Norm” is going to walk in and take a seat at the end of the bar. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81QluTS-mWc I believe it is a comparison the establishment fosters because the first thing my waiter, Zack, did was ask me my name. He was charming and attentive. It surprised me to learn he’d only been working there for a week. He too blended right away into an atmosphere that makes you feel as if the place has always been there and always will be, even though the restaurant is only eight or nine years old. And I will bet you a dessert of your choice—and the menu sports quite a few nice looking ones—that you won’t guess Zack’s age correctly if you visit.*
The place is large enough to host fourteen tables in the dining area with additional seating in the bar—nicely segmented by a midrise wooden wall topped by stained glass panels. It is family-friendly while still catering to bar stool jockeys in a segregated area, with a rowdier crowd in the wee hours of 2:00 a.m. (Which I will never be able to describe as that is past my bedtime. Feel free to stay up and let me know what happens.) Although the food reflects much of the standard bar fare, touches of culinary expression make this pub a cut above the rest.
I ordered the portabella club (7.99) and a cup of the tomato basil soup (2.49). I had planned to squeeze in a slice of the luscious-sounding Lemon Mousse Melody cake, but the sandwich came with an unexpected pile of French fries. The meal was more than plenty for lunch. As I ate, I watched the diners who were enjoying friendly conversation—not having to shout over the televisions there for the bar crowd and sports enthusiasts was pleasant. Because I came after the lunch hour, it was calm and yet still had the friendly feeling I look for when I dine out. (If I want crabby company, I can eat alone at home.)
The food I ate was tasty but not too pretentious. The fries were in my favorite, slightly soft state and hadn’t be doused in too much NaCl. Although I suspect the food will lean to the saltier side, so be prepared to drink gallons or just ask if the cook can “Just Say No” to the sodium.
The soup had a lovely tang of fresh basil which offset its salty character. The toasty pita bread oozed just a bit of the aioli red pepper sauce with each bite. If I could change something, I would have preferred a giant portabella mushroom to sink my teeth into rather than the slices of baby portabella. But that didn’t hurt the flavor. I’d also suggest they use a shredded Monterey Jack versus sliced to help better marry the loose lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers—melted cheese makes a terrific mortar. Minor gripes aside, the food comes with the promise of a warm welcome and a hope that this might become a favorite hangout of mine. Just as soon as I can find a house in Wyoming that I can afford.
Asterisk Bedazzled Footnote:
*Yes, the title is about as cheesy as it gets. I like cheese. Get used to it.
**I’m serious about the bet. First person to write in with Zack’s accurate age (as of 2014) will have dessert on me. Well, not on me, on me. This isn’t that kind of foodie site.