God, I could go for a pint of Stella Artois, or "wife-beater," as it's sometimes referred to in merry ol' England. I'm in a black-and-white box of an eatery, surrounded by photos of Cornish tin miners, reading a biography of Hermann Goering. Halfway through my midday meal, it hits me that this would be the perfect time to quaff some lager and thus wash down this marvelous mixture of potato, rutabaga, onion and steak now vacationing in... More >>>