Ahh, the Publican. A diamond in the rough. A league of its own. Cool without trying. Every time I go there, I feel like I am in a barn turned restaurant on a family’s farm in France.
Even though the Publican has been around for a few years (seven to be exact), its consistently good food, vast selection of beers, and casual ambiance has kept it continuously bustling with people. On a Saturday night with a group of six, our waiter suggested that we order the chef’s menu; they pick the food, you eat it. Here is what they brought us:
Publican Bread Plate
Dark Chocolate Mousse
We basically had to beg the staff to stop bringing us food. Our only minor disappointment was that we missed out on two of our favorites, the farm chicken and the pork rinds. After the waiter agreed to keep us from unbuttoning our pants at the table, he asked us our favorites of the night. Ironically, as a group, we ended up shouting out everything brought to us. My two best? The Boston mackerel and the fried eggplant.