Friday, February 13, 2009

No Place

Bob and I discovered too late into the Winter season this unassuming local bar and eatery. Usually I've been cawing about Big Owls as a great place where Bob and I mingle and drink but No Place is our newest favorite place to wander to. No Place is a die-hard Steelers hive where the wonderful local gentry come to hang their hats and hide from the Winter cold and is located in historic old Stevensville. Lori is the consumate bar maiden who is attentive to all the customers seasoned and new (like we were) and Bob and I really feel welcomed and taken care of every time we sit down at the bar. Lori really is the hidden Patron Saint of the Eastern Shore. Sexy, kind, great sense of humor, and honestly loves her family above all else. We met her daughter and her grandson yesterday and really felt the love and pride ooze from every pour in her body and she couldn't wait to introduce her beautiful family to us newbies or anyone else for that matter.

The local's we meet every time Bob and I go in there are very friendly and welcoming. Never once have we felt out of place or snubbed because we were the new kids hanging at their place at the bar. Space is always made for new arrivals with a friendly smile or a "hi, how you doing?". Bob and I met "Pepper" as I noticed him slurping down a shot of xtra-hot wing sauce. He just smiled when I questioned him with an astounded "what did you just do?". "Pepper" obviously got his nick-name honestly but his real name is Chad Marshall and is a local DJ who seems to be well known and liked. He was immmediately nice to us and wasn't hestitant to introduce himself to Bob and I even after I seemed a little shocked from his hot sauce slurping habit. As for the saloon patrons though just leave any attitude or "airs" outside or, better yet, locked in your car. This isn't a space for golf pants or bragging about your wine collection. To be clear though, I definately get the impression if your kid is doing well in the military or was lucky enough to get accepted into an Ivy League school no one could be happier for you and geniunely so. Humbly brag all you want and they will lend you an ear.

Since I'm always intrigued by food, any food, I "borrowed" into a conversation with a gentleman about cooking wild game. ANY wild game. Muskrat, goose, venision, and any other Eastern Shore game I've failed to name. Apparently Bob and I just missed out on a pretty big event in which many wild games are prepared and eaten. Being that I grew up on the Shore with a daddy who hunted I can say I miss a dinner table with goose or venision as the main course. My daddy has since retired to Florida and no longer hunts but my fascination has always remained and I will always feel a certain affinity towards anyone who can bring an Eastern Shore classic to the table. I love the whole process from the field to the table and will definately not miss the wild game bonanza that happens every February next year. I'm just glad that the wonderful saloon patrons are patient eneough to put up with my incessant questioning and evesdropping!

I tried to find a link on the Internet that could make it easy to locate this new favorite of ours but it seems there is no website for this wonderful local haven. I'm assuming that perhaps there's a reason for this and decided that, maybe, the charm of it is that, number one, it isn't a chain and number two, advertising the hell out of it isn't necessary. If you're lucky enough to know where it is then you have found a true treasure indeed.

No comments: