Hey, remember when we ate off of real plates out in public places? This feels so 2019.
So, yeah, we’re back to dining out again! Woo Hoo! OK, honestly we’ve been back out and about for the past month or so now, but in the effort of taking some time to get back into the groove of this whole public dining thing again we kind of limited our “re-emergence” to places we knew and had been to several times in the past. I mean, let’s face it, very few people have even seen our mouths out in public in the past year, much less watched us shove food and drinks into them, so there might be a bit of a cultural re-learning curve there, no?
In any case, we figured you probably no longer cared about our opinions of said places because, well, we probably shared them several times previously. I mean, I get that hasn’t necessarily stopped us in the past, but hey, fresh start, I guess. *insert shrug emoji here*
Speaking of fresh starts, it also seems as though Mother Nature maybe decided to put a pause on her intense hatred of us. Or perhaps she just forgot that she’s supposed to unleash thunderstorms and intense heat on summer Wednesday evenings since we gave her the past year of nonchalance toward the weather? Regardless, we decided to take full advantage of this rare glorious patio weather evening to check out a place that 2/3 of us have somehow continued to miss out on because we were waiting for a night like this to visit.
Part of that stems from the fact that we know firsthand how coveted the patio is at Missing Mountain, and how difficult it can be to claim a table on a night like this one. Fortunately Ted was able to get there a bit early to scope things out and lay claim to a patio table.
So clearly the gods were smiling on us all around this evening. I guess this means we’ve been missed?
We devised a little theory on the ability to get a “good” patio table (read: one closer to the view of the river) as pertaining to the ability to get a “good” parking space (read: one closer to the building and not, oh, I don’t know, across the busy road). So tonight Shane and I arrived separately from Ted, and both cars were parked directly in front of the building. Shane and I also especially lucked out, turning into the lot just as the previous occupant of that parking space was leaving. But the tradeoff from that was that our table – while still on the patio – was on the upper deck, and not close to the river. Ted said that the only time he has been able to sit close to the river, he unfortunately had to play Frogger across the street to get there.
So the moral is that if you have to risk your life to get there, you will likely get rewarded with a good table. But if you have to only walk a few feet to the entrance then you get upper deck. Sounds like a plausible theory?
I mean, keep in mind we’re basing this essentially on two visits. So statistically maybe not the *best* working theory, but hey, I’m a communications person, not a physicist, so take that as you will I guess.
The beer menu at MM includes lots of IPAs, which we all know is Shane’s most favorite thing to drink … if “favorite” actually means something just slightly more tasty than motor oil mixed with cat urine. And the best part is that he KNOWS he doesn’t like them, but yet he claims that when he reads the descriptions in the menu it tricks him into thinking he actually *might* like them this time around. Personally I think he just likes to entertain us making bitter beer faces whenever he tries them and we all know what the reaction will be.
Case in point when he went up to the bar to order and returned with something called a Zwickel Trickel, “because the name was catchy.” We all see where this is going, right? He then made the infamous face and claimed it was too “hoppy” after the first sip. Ted and I then pointed out that the word “hops” is right there in the description, which probably should’ve been a clue as to what the taste would be once he tried it maybe? Just a thought.
I was happy with my “fruit beer” selection of You Just Hit G8. Plus it came in this fancy glass.
Because he’s convinced he’s eventually going to find an IPA-esque beer that Shane might like, Ted suggested he try the one called 17 Missed Calls. Ted ordered it for himself and let Shane try it.
Welp, make that 18 Missed Beer Attempts, because Shane was definitely not a fan.
Ted had ordered the Pants Party before we got there and that one was not my favorite. I mean, props for the name … but that was about all I could give it props for. And honestly, all of the beer names are pretty creative. Leave yourself a few minutes just to scan the menu and take all of those in.
The food doesn’t have catchy names, but honestly that’s probably for the best because when you order something called a Hot Italian there are plausibly about a thousand ways that could go wrong rather quickly.
Fortunately for me, there was nothing wrong at all with this sandwich. It had really good flavor and was a large enough portion that I wasn’t hungry at all afterwards but also didn’t feel like I needed someone to roll me out to my car either.
Because we clearly love carbs, Shane and I also got a giant soft pretzel to share.
We’ll call this photo the visual version of those pesky beer descriptions. Because I’ll admit when looking at this picture, I feel like this pretzel should be delicious. It looks doughy and salty and like you’re going to dig in and get a little buttery pillow of dough with a crispy outside.
But fortunately my memory serves me well enough that I know that’s not the case. It was actually kind of dry and not as doughy as I would’ve liked, and not buttery at all. The chees sauce helped a little, but that’s kind of like putting the cinnamon sugar rim on the beer glass to disguise a Christmas ale with too much nutmeg.
I’ve really embraced this whole beer description metaphor thing, I know. Just run with it. We’re almost done here.
Ted and Shane both got the brisket sandwich.
Shane liked his sandwich. Ted, on the other hand, said it was “just OK.” He said he would’ve probably been happier with the chicken sandwich that he has had before and had wanted to order again this time around but they were sold out of. So good runner up option, but not his first choice. Noted. At least he didn’t rate it the same as Shane rates IPAs.
Hey, I had to keep the game going. We’ve come this far, people.
Overall I believe a return visit to MM will be in our future. The food was good, the beers take a little weeding out to find the ones we like – and by “we” I really mean Shane, because as long as we kept him away from the IPAs and creative descriptions we seemed to hit the mark. And the patio is definitely one of the best in the area. Despite our rating system there’s honestly not a bad seat anywhere on the patio – unless of course you definitely wanted a view of the water. But if your goal is just to be able to be outside enjoying a nice summer evening with friends and some creatively named beverages, then this is better than stumbling across Summer Shandy still on tap amidst the pumpkin beer haven of October, my friends. Or that elusive “caramel flavored light ale with hints of chocolate and hazelnut” that actually doesn’t taste instead like you just swallowed a mouthful of peanut dust covered in pine needles.
Sorry, I’m done now. I promise.