The burgers arrived on small pewter plates. Juice dripped down onto wedges of thick steak fries. "Should we do it?" my husband asked me between bites. We had just seen a house in Sleepy Hollow, and our hearts were racing. One look at Horsefeather's mahogany bar, the rows of old books and cozy pendant lamps and we knew we could live here.
We ate at Horsefeathers before our closing and have nearly every Friday night since then. I have sampled the hearty chilis(recommended for babies who stubbornly refused to be born), the ample pub sandwiches (my fave, the englebert pumperdink,) the enormous chef salad with an entire deli case on top of the greens, and most of the Harry Potter-themed children's menu. My husband never strays from what he still considers to be the perfect burger.
The place is the epitome of warm and inviting, from the honest wooden tables, to the murals of great writers on the walls, to the wonderful wait staff who we regard as part of our family, mostly because they've made us feel part of theirs.
Make a reservation on weekend nights, especially during tourist season. There is no tap beer, but we got over this once we saw the two-page imported beer list. Some feel that the entrees are. In that case, best to stick with the simpler food that fits the vibe.
Kids are more than welcomed. They are greeted with a bucket of crayons and a smile. Mine were weaned there. It's their favorite place.
For me, the best thing that Horsefeathers has to offer isn't found on the menu. It's called a sense of belonging. I don't think they'll ever run out of it.
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