Bull’s Head Inn – March 2018 (dt)
7.03 – 8, 7.2, 7, 6.75, 6.75, 6.5
The tail end of March found us driving westward to Cobleskill,
with definitely more snow than home.
Half of us had previously experienced BHI on our own, so it was a
nice revisit for four of us and new territory for the rest. BHI
advertises American cuisine and colonial history – a combo of
hearty fare and a good story. And the mingling with the owners
fostered the personal connection.
(Borrowing from online) Entrées included:
A corn prep seemed to be the vegetable
accompaniment, while a choice of starch was available.
All were considered good, with one “nothing special” to a
couple “very good.”
The included soup/salad often supplants any other choice from the
appetizer list.
three of us chose the house salad: a mix of greens, cucumbers,
tomatoes, red onions and shredded carrots, with choice of
dressing on the side
Kerry ordered the chicken spinach salad: spinach topped with
grilled marinated chicken breast, candied walnuts, dried
cranberries and tomato. Raspberry vinaigrette on the side
And Don and Chay ordered a side house salad since their order was
not considered an entrée.
Mark, for a couple bucks more, enjoyed the French onion soup:
Sliced onions in a sherry beef broth with crostini and a blend of
Swiss cheese
The salads were generous, probably affecting a few appetites come
entrée time. Quality was deemed satisfactory to good, an
excellent thrown in.
Two linen-wrapped baskets of sliced loaf bread, accompanied by
tear-off lid, individual packets of butter, arrived with the
salad, a little late but welcome.
Drink orders consisted of a variety of draft beers, a wine, and a
soda. A DP8 date without wine is uncommon but happens
occasionally.
Dessert? The list of three was announced and one of each was set
on the table.
At least two of the three were pronounced
very good to excellent.
And two Sambucas, white, arrived for Chay and Mark.
Kerry abstained, thus earning some kind of points.
And thus ended the food evening.
Service by Erica turned out to be satisfactory to good after an
“interesting” start. And it should be pointed out that she
was handling a full house at our arrival.
The egregious error came during the delivery of beer. Julie was
served something other than the Irish Red she had ordered, and it
was obvious in taste and color. When pressed, Erica admitted to
substituting, without consultation, an IPA by the same company, a
style Julie dislikes. The sound of “clunk” was our jaws
hitting our table. So, that faux pas was addressed, with Julie
insisting on another choice, even if it took three of us coaching
her. ha
And the beginning service was a tad slow. Even if busy, a calming
reminder would have been in order. And then the beers were passed
down the length of the table.
I asked for more information about the special Pot Roast. “Well,
it is pot roast, with potatoes.” Any urge to order the pot
roast died.
Once we got past the first half-hour, Erica proved to be a bubbly
personality and eager to please. Water was filled regularly,
plates removed appropriately, and check-backs made at strategic
times.
Ambiance is modern colonial (how is that for an oxymoron?). The
current owners purchased the business five years ago and
attractively modernized a long-time local establishment.
BHI is centrally located, with a sturdy
door welcoming us into a central hall, with a large dining room
on each side, each capable of holding about forty people.
A light spring-green wainscoting with the
colonial squares filled the bottom four feet of wall. A cream
pastel paint filled the remainder except for one wall of
foot-square wallpaper block. End walls were lit by two sconces
and the full side wall by four, with additional lighting from two
chandeliers. Wide board floors, sturdy wooden tables, and
padded-seat chairs felt Bull-ish. White plating and three piece
settings of two forks and a knife accompanied the silver vase
exuding candle-light through the pierced base. Colonial themed
paintings and prints filled the spaces between the windows and
bigger spans of wall, inviting the historians and artists to look
more closely at evening’s end. Exposed dark ceiling beams added
to the long-ago feel.
Near the end of our stay, we exchanged a
pleasant five minutes with the good-humored owner about the
challenges of this restaurant, the re-shaping of the tavern
downstairs, and his appreciation for our business.
Although the food generally was a notch
below excellent, we agreed that a return visit would be a
pleasant experience.
Pacing actually was near average, once we lolled through the
first half-hour. Even with dessert and a few minutes of chat, we
left BHI fifteen minutes short of two hours
The bill for the evening came to $98 per couple, and most of us
rounded off.
Off we departed to the east, with stretches of fog that made the
drivers appreciate the yellow center line and an occasional hazy
red tail-light in front of us.
Topics included: regrets Joyce was absent, Joyce doing a good
deed in CA, the doings of our kids, exploits of the two real
world workers (another advantage of having Julie present), Spring
weather finally arriving, snow banks still left, the amount of
snow that Schoharie County had, a few dozen deer along the
roadside on the way out, the foggy and dark drive back, Kerry’s
hair growing back (with several positive comments from the
feminine side), a young teaching career, NCAA basketball
playoffs, Loyola, boner barn, boner needing some spiffying (on
the barn!), sleeping passenger in back seat, closing the place
down (hours listed of 5-8), …
…. somewhere near dinner’s end, there
was a protracted explanation of a motel stay near Syracuse, with
guests Mark and Chay, with descriptions of thin walls, creaking
beds, exclamations of Oh God, I’m Your Bitch, and more
unrepeatables. We got laughing hard enough that Erica and the
manager-owner checked on us, so pleased we were having so much
fun. We apologized to Erica for ruining her morals, and then the
twosome would re-tell the story again, even more effectively.
Kriss, you would have been of no use this evening….
… back to our usual selves, Deb K’s
long working hours before the End, cat health, the whereabouts of
the other eight, Spanish food and wine, Texas, Facebook, and more
stuff that I have forgotten from the stress of foggy drive home.