The Old Toad

(Note: Please read the following in a Cockney accent)

'eaven and 'ell I ain't posted in a while 'cause I ain't been travelin' but Present and Past night I 'ad a 'eck of an adventure wite 'ere in Rochester that I just 'ad ter share. For those of ya 'oo daan't kna, yesterday was Openin' day for 'untin' season. that's chicken pen the bloody men leather boot and kill deer and Scapa Fla up ter the local Peas in a Pot cross ban Rub-A-Dub ter boast and feast on the innards. Us ocean pearls usually get ter Scapa Fla aahhht ter a restaurant (a rare treat). 'eaven and 'ell normally mom, amber and I consider a trip ter 'Henrietta an exotic dinin' experience but I 'ave been cravin' mexican lately (thanks ter livin' in colorado) and I 'ad 'eard of a 'eaven and 'ell Robin Hood mexican restaurant in the city. So we crossed the Canal and went downtahn ter Salena's. We went in and were told it would be an 'our wait. Forget that!! I walked aahhht yellin' "this is why we leather boot In The Nude in our backyard-na waitin'!". at a loss we 'eaded Hammer and Tack towards Pope in Rome. I remembered passin' by a Drum called the french Farmer's Daughter Colonel (and fondly thought of new orleans food) so we did a Bee Hive by and realized it looked loike someone's dorm va va voom wif Bo-le of Glue tables in it. Forget that!! We came upon Noah's Ark ave (the ritzy part of rochester) and thought we'd cruise daahhhn there lookin' for summit. 'eaven and 'ell we someha got Frank Bough Noah's Ark ave and on ter a gravel alley by the 'ighway. after gettin' Hammer and Tack on the streets we came across a british rub-a-dub called The Old Toad. That sounded quaint and british rub-a-dub In The Nude sounded delicious on a Harry Kewell night. After parkin' in a questionable Randolph Scott we 'eaded in and a lovely jubly Heap Of Coke sat us wite next ter the Dorothy Lamour. The Drum smelled loike pigs ear (hops, barley, etc.) and the Me And You 'ad charmin' british things loike boar banger, bangers and mash, shepards london mince pie and Lilian Gish and jockey's whips. We put in our order and a Ca and Calf 'our went by and the charm of the Old Toad was quickly wearin' Frank Bough (i could only fin' of so many british things ter Pope in Rome on the range consistin' of pip pip, right-o and tallyho. Finally the chap came aahhht and informed us that the kitchen 'ad an equipment malfunction and offered us a Tiddley Win'. I got sum alcoholic Easy Rider that was whistle and pop notch. On The Floor amber soon got 'er broccoil and blue Cheese Loop de Loop that she thought would be akin ter broccili and cheddar but was instead pureed broccoli and blue cheese. Ter whistle and pop it Frank Bough, it was Potatoes in the mould. After an 'our 'ad passed we got the George Best of our In The Nude and scarfed it daahhhn loike feral frogs and logs . I 'ad gotten the shepards london mince pie and it was delicious. At least I fin' it was. I was Pear Halved and Ca and Calf Billy Monk by this point and I kept shoutin' "tallywhacker!" and laughin' at the absurdity of the situation. The jockey's whips were delicious and I 'ad parsnips for the Damien Hirst nickle and dime (interestin' root vegetable that i'm not Bobby I like). After a quick stop at the loo we quickly paid and went ter clock if the Jam Jar 'ad been alf inched or put on blocks but nah it was there. We did clock men exchangin' Bread and Honey outside which i'm pretty Bobby was a drug Ian Beale. aw in aw, an excitin' night in the city and more proof why we should just stick ter the countryside where we belong.

(I couldn't resist translating my post to Cockney. Please see below for the English version)











Well I haven't posted in a while because I haven't been traveling but last night I had a heck of an adventure right here in Rochester that I just had to share. For those of you who don't know, yesterday was Opening Day for hunting season. That's when the men shoot and kill deer and go up to the local gun club to boast and feast on the innards. Us girls usually get to go out to a restaurant (a rare treat). Well normally Mom, Amber and I consider a trip to Henrietta an exotic dining experience but I have been craving Mexican food lately (thanks to living in Colorado) and I had heard of a really good Mexican restaurant in the city. So we crossed the Canal and went downtown to Salena's. We went in and were told it would be an hour wait. Forget that!! I walked out yelling "This is why we shoot food in our backyard-no waiting!". At a loss we headed back towards home. I remembered passing by a place called the French Quarter Cafe (and fondly thought of New Orleans food) so we did a drive by and realized it looked like someone's dorm room with 2 tables in it. Forget that!! We came upon Park Ave (the ritzy part of Rochester) and thought we'd cruise down there looking for something. Well we somehow got off Park Ave and on to a gravel alley by the highway. After getting back on the streets we came across a British Pub called The Old Toad. That sounded quaint and British pub food sounded delicious on a cool night. After parking in a questionable spot we headed in and a lovely bloke sat us right next to the door. The place smelled like beer (hops, barley, etc.) and the menu had charming British things like boar sausage, bangers and mash, shepards pie and fish and chips. We put in our order and a half hour went by and the charm of the Old Toad was quickly wearing off (I could only think of so many British things to yell and they consisted of pip pip, right-o and tallyho. Finally the chap came out and informed us that the kitchen had an equipment malfunction and offered us a drink. I got some alcoholic cider that was top notch. Poor Amber soon got her broccoil and blue cheese soup that she thought would be akin to broccili and cheddar but was instead pureed broccoli and blue cheese. To top it off, it was cold. After an hour had passed we got the rest of our food and scarfed it down like feral dogs. I had gotten the shepards pie and it was delicious. At least I think it was. I was starved and half drunk by this point and I kept shouting "Tallywhacker!" and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. The chips were delicious and I had parsnips for the first time (interesting root vegetable that I'm not sure I like). After a quick stop at the loo we quickly paid and went to see if the car had been stolen or on blocks but no it was there. We did see men exchanging money outside which I'm pretty sure was a drug deal. All in all, an exciting night in the city and more proof why we should just stick to the countryside where we belong.