A Follow-Up: The Firehouse

Go here and eat their fooooood.


Grandfather seen. More adamant now in purchasing a small handgun if I ever get Alzheimer's.

Up-side: Grandma took us out to a little place off Route 9 called The Firehouse Grille, which aside from your typical small town sports bar yahoos also features the most amazing food I've ever found. Ribs literally fell off their bones. I'm not misusing literally either. There were several legitimate moments where I took a bite and the tensile strength of the meat was greater than its bond to the bone, resulting in slow-smoked pig flesh dangling from my mouth like chutney BBQ zombie dinner theater.

Now if you'll excuse me I need to slip into a food coma so I can go through the worst of rib withdrawal whilst unconscious.