I really do.

I’m too old to properly enjoy MJQ though I have danced my ass off there in the past, I have forded past the questionable squalor of their bathrooms, and have marveled that I don’t have a drug problem because dang, those bathroom countertops and toilet edges are perfect for snorting drugs! Whatever. I don’t really care…because frankly even at 31, I feel that grumpy.

Murph, the main awesome really TALL guy, decided with his partners to open a grown-up post-MJQ place, the Bookhouse Pub. And I will say that it’s beautiful; it’s all lacquered wood, sleek proper coziness, and frankly, it’s a place that I totally would want to get tipsy and fun in because it’s an adult bar. I love being in there, but I’m here to talk about the food.

The LSC and I ordered two apps—and don’t you hate that term?—off the menu, and both entrees we also ordered from the specials menu. Above you see is the fried dill pickles; the LSC liked them well enough, and heck, even I ate some and I effing hate pickles. He hoped for deep-fried dill spears that he has been familiar with, but ate up these chips. They did indeed have some beer-soaking yum.

I am actually really simple when it comes to food. More so than I lead most to believe. Being a Southerner, I think of pimento cheese as chunky, lots of mayo, and honestly, lots satisfying. The pimento cheese toast offered by the Bookhouse Pub was not quite what I expected; it was a totally whipped (like light, like near frothy) version pressed between eight overly buttered toasted pieces of…well, toast. The grilled bread was too buttery, was too salty (I have always claimed to be salt-sensitive, so go me, wussy!), yet I devoured it anyway.

I now give you one of the specials—and the last dish was also another special on the menu. This is the Smoked Chicken Salad Sandwich.

I didn’t expect warmth from the chicken salad itself but it’s a bit disconcerting when the foccacia bun is warm and the filling is very chilly. I didn’t finish it, and the LSC, who is not plump, whom finishes my leftovers, declined because he didn’t care for the contrast.

The LSC kind of lied to me with this special. He said it was ace, but later said—in the SAME MEAL–that the pesto was good but sort overwhelmed the sammich. I have always found that this is the case with pesto.

Listen, I ain’t saying the Bookhouse is bad. I’m just saying that for apps and snackies and nice beer list I’m all about it. It’s not fine dining; heck, it doesn’t even have spitting distance for the Porter.

I hope that the menu gets better than somewhat fancy bar food—and that’s what it is, don’t fool yourself cause I won’t fool myself—until I think I’ll just eat at home.