The Three Ducks

Zack Bethany didn’t like bad news.  As president of Downtown Greensboro, Inc., mostly a passthrough for Business District tax revenue, his opps for relevance were limited, but he was making the best of it.  Currently, one project or another rendered downtown a veritable disaster area of construction.  The district had long ago become a graveyard for businesses, especially restaurants.

For years Zack had secretly harbored the notion, continually backed up with empirical evidence, that the businesses coming downtown were ill-designed, if not operated.  So it was that the most recent fetching daughter of the ruling class approached Bethany with the latest tragedy.

Greensboro is the one place on earth most likely to serve food with fries.  In some places, they have been fried in duck fat, but remain fries.  You’ve got the upscale fish house, where punters are put together in small tables for tuna with two sauces and the dreadful lime cilantro diarrhea on the tasteless fish tacos.

The Three Ducks is ensconced in Greensboro’s latest developer abortion.   The proprietor has had some success with another restaurant where the sandwiches taste of burned butter, not that the cultural Marxists who patronize it know better.

There should be a law against Panini presses.

The Wife and I hit The Three Ducks on a Sunday a few weeks ago, after a ride in the Fun Machine.  The menu was fowl, but I was completely put off by a 20 x 100′ B&W mural behind the bar of a leafless swamp in winter.  WTF?

Greensboro is Disneyland for stupid people with money.

Restaurants in downtown W-S are also dying like flies.  It’ll be interesting to see how our local upscale taco joint fares with their second location.

LGBT people are just as stupid as everyone else.

There’s a place in the W-S West End which is run by a bunch of clueless hippies, but the food is great.  The lines are long, but it’s worth it.  Even the failed items are inspired.  And their motto is “No Fries.”

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