Rockin' the South Shore

No truer word has ever been spoken.

In our quest to scour the South Shore for a more convenient home base, we stopped at this unlikely jewel in Hanover for a bite to eat on Saturday afternoon in between house drive by's (not the shooting kind).

Though I am sure some out-of-town motorists driving down Washington Street pull into the parking lot expecting legs and eggs, apparently, The Squires has no connection to the Revere strip club of the same name. I don't know what kind of rep this place has on the South Shore, but don't let the somewhat shady exterior fool you. For $37, we ordered 3 Sam Adams, mozarella sticks, a burger and fries and the best grilled chicken salad I have ever had. At a place with white and red checked vinyl cloths on the tables, I expected iceburg lettuce and a slab of rubbery chicken, but what I got was real Mesclun greens and strips of char-grilled chicken sprinkled with cranberries, walnuts and feta cheese. Rich was equally impressed with his burger.

What the place lacks in atmosphere, (tired knotty pine walls with beer signs hung on much of the available wall space) it makes up for with its food.

"I know this place is so townie, but I like it," Rich said taking a swig of his Sam.

Anyway, it was a good start to our South Shore excursion, which, after four hours of house-gawking, continued with a trek to the City of Champions - Rich's old stomping grounds - to see the Sergi's, then an impromptu party at Stoneforge Grill in South Easton, where Rich was treated to a surprise visit by a couple of long-lost high school pals. His hyena-like laughter could be heard throughout the restaurant as he told stories with Serg and Wayne and sipped his Guinness. After, we were fortunate enough to be invited to crash at the North Warren Inn, especially after my five glasses of pinot noir.

Fun was had by all, and I hope we get to do it again very soon.