The only thing more remarkable than the portion size was how quickly the steaming plates, heaped with the sort of fare that personifies comfort food, are whisked to your table, a mere half-conversation after ordering. The bread on the table may look enticing, but my advice is to leave it alone, otherwise you risk either ignoring your entree, toting home a large portion, or deciding to finish the plate then dream of your couch, whose support will be the only thing keeping you off the floor. Having grown up in Massachusetts, the Brick House has that unmistakable charm of starchy staples, frosty mugs, and folks whose look and demeanor smack of someone who donned a football helmet, or clutched a field hockey stick, on a crisp fall day in their youth and can now either put up a sheet rock wall faster than you can say Carl Yastrzemski or teach Spot over at Boston Dynamics to not drop a single thing except that very unnecessary 'r', should it happen to fall at the end of a word. read more