A few weeks ago, on our way up north, we stopped for dinner at a place that advertised chowder and popovers. Sweet! How could you not stop at a restaurant offering those two iconic New England delicacies? We checked the reviews on Yelp and it seemed to be well loved by the neighboring community, so we popped in. (Ha. Popped in.) I ordered a chicken pot pie popover and Mr. EatDrink got a bowl of seafood chowder and a popover on the side. We really, really wanted to love this place. We wanted it to be a hidden gem, a place to put on our list of must-eats on the way to Vermont. (Like, for instance, Donut Dip in Massachusetts, where you can get a sour cream donut, a raspberry Bismarck, or a donut as big as your head.)
Sadly, though, we thought it was just okay. But Mr. EatDrink made a really good point. “You know,” he said, “if this was a food truck, we’d be all over it. We’d tell everyone about it.” You know what? He’s right. If it was a food truck, we’d give it leeway for the coolness factor. Which leads me to believe that I really do need to start a toast truck.