Menu from Firestones in Quechee, Vermont
Yes, a Bermudian, a Canadian, a Brit, and two Americans walked into a pub (Firestones) in Quechee, Vermont and we ordered three Dark n Stormys, a gingerale (definitely not for the Bermudian) and a Vermont Ale (for the Brit).
No, this is not a joke. Well what transpired was a comedy of errors, but it was never meant to be. Nope, this was supposed to be my New Year’s Eve.
I had planned ahead. I never do that, but this time I had four other people depending on me. Why? Because I decided to drag two friends who live in Bermuda (the Canadian and the Brit) and my college roommate and her boyfriend to a house in Quechee, VT.
Some skiing, New England quaintness and a place where I wouldn’t know anyone was just what the doctored ordered. I had rock fever.
Unfortunately this ailment is nothing that a doctor can cure. Nope. Instead, it is what Bermudians feel after spending too much time on our 21 square-mile island. That and my travel column every Wednesday in The Royal Gazette, of course!
After Delta delayed our escape by five hours we arrived in Boston by 7 p.m. and began our trek to Vermont. It’s only two hours so it wasn’t too bad.
The Americans had already made it to Quechee and we found them ensconced in beer and nibbles at the Firestones’ Pub waiting for us. It was busy, but our waitress was so amazing it made the time fly.
She even carded me! I felt young again. Heck maybe I’m a questionable 21-year-old at 31? Works for me. This was going to be a good vacation.
Even better, we had a little bit of Bermuda waiting for us on the menu. Yes I wanted to escape, but I always love seeing my home country featured somewhere. Well especially because we’re so small!
There it was listed on the Firestones’ menu: a Dark ‘n’ Stormy. Arguably Bermuda’s National drink, the Dark ‘n’ Stormy consists of our Black Seal Rum (a dark, rich
Quchee's Waterfall/Glass Blowing Company
and smooth alcohol) mixed with Barritt’s Ginger Beer. Any other ginger beer just simply will not do.
I was sure Firestones did not have Barritt’s, but I thought I would give Firestones’ the benefit of the doubt (the friendly waitress who carded me, helped) and we decided to book our New Year’s Eve dinner here.
There were not many other choices. I mean, I love Quechee. It’s quintessential New England. But as far as eating on New Year’s Eve we were at a loss.
Sure we could have chosen Simon Pearce and spent $80 on a four course meal, but that would not have included drinks, tax or service. We didn’t have that kind of money.
The 31st came. We put the skis down, showered and even donned some make-up for the occasion. At 8p.m. we were ready for a good night.
Too bad our Firestones’ waitress wasn’t. Our friendly, first night waitress had been replaced with another.
“What do you want to order?”
Well, hello to you too. Yes, we would love to have a great New Year’s Eve, thank you for asking, I belittled the waitress in my head. I bit my tongue and we gave her the drinks order.
Three Dark ‘n’ Stormys, a gingerale and a Vermont ale.
“Ok, now do you know what food you want to order?”
“uhh, I mean, uh…no!”
She was starting to get downright pushy. I was getting tired of it. She left.
Five minutes later, she returned.
“Ok fine we’ll order.”
That meant our starters. We were still holding out on her. I mean we planned to be there for midnight. We were not going to get so lucky. As soon as she placed the order in the kitchen she was back.
“Now do you want to order your mains?” Not much of a question really. We did. Three Kobe steaks at various levels of cooking, a sea bass and chicken parmesan.
Easy, right? Nope.
The starters came, they entered our stomachs and the cutlery was taken away….never to return. Well not until we’d already had the steaks and the chicken.
Robyn, you forgot the sea bass?! Nope, nope I didn’t. Actually the waitress did.
I remained gracious: “Dig in guys. Please don’t wait for me.”
Drive-by photo of Firestones
“Ugh, mine’s cold. Mine’s not cooked enough,” echoed around the table.
We called over the waitress. Our conversations turned from borderline impolite to downright rude.
Us: “Sorry, but our steaks are all cold and we still don’t have the sea bass.”
Waitress: “What do you want me to do about it?”
I get it’s New Year’s Eve. I get that no one wants to work, but well, we would have spent a decent chunk of change. She would have done all right if she had managed an iota of pleasantness.
“Are you sorry they’re cold?” I asked her.
“Yes, I’m sorry. So what would you like me to do?”
Fly to the moon, solve world poverty, find the cure for cancer, I don’t know, maybe cook new steaks?!
The men at our table decided to confront the manager; I had already tried to no avail.
Manager: “Oh, yeah well I only heard about this five minutes before. I’m supposed to have dinner with my wife of 27-years. Um….let’s see how this turns out.”
It turned out that after fixing the steaks, my sea bass came out colder than before, the chicken parmesan had congealed cheese and we were done.
And so was her tip and half of the bill! We bid Firestone’s farewell.
A quick trip to the gas station delivered a few beers and some wine into our party and as we arrived home fireworks erupted on the ski hill!
I think we had the last laugh!
Robyn's Wanderings 