The Couch -- Western & Grand

So, still vibing off the high I felt from starting this kicky new blog, I decided to drive around the perimeter of my new haunt to get a feel for the businesses and see what was doin. I was also hungry as hell. While driving around, I saw that some gallery is having a pottery class tonight and tomorrow. Score. Also, there are a bunch of other shops that I never saw before like florists and clothing stores. Man, I was really in my own bubble!

So I stopped at this spot on a dark corner of Western and Grand called The Couch (see pic from outside my car window). I walked into the little bar & grill and was greeted by a really jovial guy seated at the bar. I said my hellos and proceeded to the back part of the bar, away from the door, closer to the kitchen and nearer to the girl at the other end (comfort zone). I took my seat directly in front of the bar with a huge gator stretched across it (see photo bottom). The walls are adorned with black & white framed photos of oldies like the Rat Pack and some Italian boxers. Sinatra too.

There was freshly popped corn on the counters (butter flavor oil). I looked around to find out if this place was called The Couch because they had one. It is not. There are long wooden benches with tables and chairs along the wall. It would be a dive if ... meh, it's a dive. But one with an espresso/cappuccino machine! LA DI DA! They have Karaoke every Saturday night, $0.25 wing night every Wednesday (a $0.15 raise since last year AND they charge for dips--blue cheese, ranch--and extra buck!) and 1/2 price burgers on Saturdays. Or was that 1/2lb discount burgers? I dunno. The bartender said "Angus" like she had a love affair with it but it hadn't called her in three days.

They had $2.50 domestic beers this night, Monday, the slowest. I ordered a Sam Adams ($2.50), an Italian beef ($5.50) with hot peppers on the side ($0.50) and a shot of Jack Daniels to take the cold outta my bones ($4.00). The bartender was nice--she told me that the place had been open for 6 years and that she just started working there last month. It was her friend who was seated at the end of the bar. They had a discussion about the waitress's Italian Dad saying "Marmalade" and her saying "No Dad. Jelly." Soon as I laughed, my meal was brought out by the happy guy seated at the front bar! The fries were hot and crisp. The beef was piled high, hot and served with au jus...which wasn't the greatest (meaning I didn't want to drink it straight). Some college football game was on as well as kickass rock music (the Juke box has everything from Pearl Jam to Pink), but I still overheard the bartender say "He's such a Guido!" This is what 'Jersey Shore' is doing to America.

I ate half my sandwich and some fries, but there was a lot, so I took it home to my gf. I guess this place was pretty okay. I mean, a $4 shot of Jack is completely fucked, but the food & company were good. Came to find out that the guy who greeted me, brought me the food, and helped out in the kitchen was the owner, Bob. They do what they want in there. It's so not pretentious. So all in all: Good milk.

That 2%: the ketchup bottle popped when I opened it. I mean, when was the last time you had catsup that wasn't refilled from some other bottle?? Man. *sigh* It's the small things.