Our first visit to the Firkin spawned from a little difference of opinion with HR. I won’t bore you with the technical details, but basically we were told we had to be at work when we felt that we shouldn’t. So we thought if we had to be there, we should at least be a bit buzzed for it.

Now, of course, a chain pub such as this wouldn’t be our first choice, however in the characterless Mel-shaped lands of the north, one must make the most of what one has. Much of the food seems geared towards university students who miss their cafeteria grub. It is laughable to even think of complaining about bland, overcooked beef, tasteless canned gravy, or freezer-bag french fries that recall the flavour and consistency of styrofoam. You should expect this sort of thing when you walk in the door.

See I think chain pubs like the Firkins fulfill a certain role in society, and an important one at that. See, there are people who enjoy this sort of thing. They like to go out and eat food that doesn’t taste like food and drink beer that doesn’t taste like beer and listen to loud radio rock all night long. And what’s more, I think there are more of them than there are people like myself, who like to go to a quiet place with handmade food and bitter ale (some of these places have appeared here — 1,2). If I sound like a pub snob, well, I am.

However, none of this means that I don’t enjoy chain pubs for what they are. I think us Torontonians are quite lucky that Creemore has gotten itself into just about all of these places, so you won’t want of a good beer. And, the food, well, there’s usually a lot of it, and as long as you stay in well-ventilated areas afterwards, you should be fine. The thing, really about the food, is that it doesn’t taste bad, it just doesn’t taste much at all, whih is alright sometimes. And let’s be honest, next time I’m sitting in a nice pub with a cask-conditioned beer, and the only music is live, I’ll be glad the hockey fans are all in the Firkin.

Oh, and it met the need for work-avoidance quite well.