Earl and I “dined” – and I use the term loosely because I prefer white tablecloth dining to pub cuisine – at The Library this evening. In a former life, this establishment was called Pauly’s; and we frequented it regularly. But we hadn’t been there in a long-enough while to notice changes in the dйcor, the menu, and the staffing.
I think I wrote about the changeover several months ago, but my filing system for my blogs is unruly; and I’m not up to searching through more than a thousand entries to check what I said. It doesn’t matter anyway.
Tonight stood on its own. Good, bad, and indifferent.
Pauly’s had the best wings around, maybe the best in the four contiguous states. So we ordered The Library’s version for comparison, with the hope that it had retained the previous owner’s recipe. I regret to say it did not. I also regret to say that the addition of Alfredo sauce and parmesan cheese as a flavor option didn’t measure up either.
Undaunted, we ordered one grilled cheese sandwich and one BLT, with the intension of sharing. We were particularly attracted to the fact that The Library was purchasing homemade bread from another local establishment, The Phoenix. In fact, that was probably the clincher for ordering sandwiches in the first place. Bread from The Phoenix is worth standing in line for, paying extra, almost sacrificing your firstborn.
And, I’m pleased to report the sandwiches did not disappoint, other than the fact that the tomato slice on the grilled cheese was so thick that it worked against keeping the sandwich parts together. Still it was filled with grilled onions and creamy cheese on the deliciously toasted Phoenix bread.
The same goes for the BLT. Too much tomato, but adequate lettuce and bacon. We would order both of these sandwiches again.
If I sound like a restaurant critic, perhaps I’ve earned some credentials. I’ve eaten out most of my life, from the time my Mother and I shared a meal (I got the obligatory dessert in the mid-fifties. It was usually tapioca pudding.) through my dating periods until now, when Earl and I enjoy “Date Night” every week as we take turns finding culinary establishments.
You probably know he picked The Library, since there wasn’t a white tablecloth in sight. Still, it was great fun. And it’s my turn next time.
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