Me, the Blind Butcher and the baguette

Sometimes all you need is a beer, but you don’t know you also need cured meat. Enter the Blind Butcher on Lower Greenville.

The first thing I notice when I walk into the dimly lit urban-grunge tavern is the black-and-white hexagon tile floor. The bar has a marble countertop, and the tap handles are all a smooth dark wood on brass. A bearded bartender asks me what I’d like to drink. I like my beer like I like my coffee – dark and bitter. He poured me a full glass of something stout-like from one of the anonymous taps. I still don’t know what the beer was. Just keep your facts straight and say you want something darker, and more bitter than malty. It reminded me of a Franconia Dunkel; and who knows, maybe it was.

Beer

It was the first non-rainy Friday in recent weeks, so I was sitting outside. Going off the grid meant waiting for a glass of water meant beer on an empty stomach. Oops.

I wanted duck pastrami with chips and drunken goat cheese. That’s how I spell my name. But when my lumbersexual-looking waiter finally returned, he suggested the duck pastrami egg rolls. I couldn’t decide, so I asked for the salad with the duck fat vinaigrette (about $10).

It’s nice to see so many preparations of duck on one menu. Duck pastrami, duck foie gras, duck confit, duck fat everything.

Duckfatsalad

I was able to have my duck and eat it too with the spinach salad. Fresh leaves were sprinkled with roasted candied pecans; slivers of red onion; and a precious few delicate little orange pieces. And duck confit. Obviously. The duck fat vinaigrette was savory and rich but light. They should put it on the beverage menu.

I had to stop myself from ordering a plate of duck fat fries the size of my face, so I got out of there for about $17 without tip. But I was still a little hungry.  So, I did what any self-respecting foodie would do and went directly next door to the French-style bakery, Boulangerie by Village Baking Co., for a sandwich.

Fast forward to me, shamelessly hiding behind a window divider from my ex-waiter at the Blind Butcher patio, stuffing my face with a turkey and havarti sandwich with the works on focaccia (sandwich of the day, $8.50). The bread was perfectly crusty and soft on top, if not a little mushy on bottom. It was the last sandwich of the day, after all.

The bakery also gave me a small pickled carrot and a free baguette as a gift from the just-opened location (the original is on my street, but I like free baguettes?). I ate the carrot. Then I had to figure out how to casually carry around a baguette, as my purse was a clutch  the size of a wallet.  (BYOB – bring your own baguette?) Then of course I had to stop in to Trader Joe’s and get ham and cheese for ham-and-cheese sandwiches on baguette. For tomorrow.

Sammich

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