CrockpotDaddy

With 405 PUB & GRILL – I just got recognized as one of their top fans! 🎉…not surprised 😂😂

I went into 405 Pub & Grill thinking I was gonna have a normal, respectful lunch…

This meatball sub said, “Nah, f**k that — we’re ruining your whole afternoon.”

First bite had me rethinking every life decision I’ve ever made. The cheese pull was longer than the list of red flags I ignored in my last relationship. I’m talking stretchy, clingy, won’t-let-you-go-even-though-it’s-bad-for-you type of mozzarella.

These meatballs weren’t just juicy — they were suspiciously juicy. Like… “why is this so moist?” levels of concern. I felt like I needed an adult present. Every bite was just sauce dripping everywhere, cheese melting down the sides, me sitting there making noises I absolutely should not be making in public.

And the bun? Toasted just enough to hold everything together like the one friend who’s barely keeping the group from falling apart at 2am.

Meanwhile the onion rings in the back were crispy as hell, just sitting there like:
“Yeah… you’re about to do something you regret after this.”

Golden. Crunchy. Seasoned like someone’s pissed-off grandmother made them with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. And that boom boom sauce?? I dipped one time and immediately understood why people ruin their lives for temporary happiness.

By the third bite I wasn’t even chewing anymore, I was just staring at the plate breathing heavy like I just ran up a flight of stairs.

10/10 would let this sub f**k up my emotional stability again. 🍽️💀

After years of coming to 405 PUB & GRILL, I finally walked back in like a war veteran returning to the battlefield.
Not because of the food.
Because of my exes.

Yeah… this place used to be emotionally dangerous territory.
Every time I thought about coming here I’d picture running into an ex and choking on mozzarella sticks like a sad country song.

So I avoided it.

But tonight?

Coast was clear.
No exes. No awkward eye contact. No “hey… how’ve you been…” trauma.

Just me, freedom… and the chicken pot pie.

And let me tell you something…

This pie healed more than my therapist ever has.

They brought it out all hot and puffed up, golden brown, flaky, looking thick as hell like it had something to prove.

I stared at it like,
“Damn… is this legal?”

First bite?

I audibly moaned.

Like… not cute either.
Full grown-man, lost-my-dignity moan.

The crust shattered, steam hit my face, creamy filling everywhere — I forgot my ex’s name mid-chew.

Didn’t even care if I burned my mouth.
Pain is temporary. Pot pie is forever.

At one point I caught myself hunched over the bowl, guarding it like someone might steal it.

Fork moving fast. No eye contact. Pure animal behavior.

If this is wrong, lock me up.

I didn’t eat that pot pie.

I violated it.

And honestly?
Best relationship I’ve had in years.

10/10
Would risk third-degree mouth burns again
Would ghost every ex in a 10-mile radius just to come back for another one

405 Pub & Grill — thanks for the therapy session disguised as dinner.

Looking to level up your next event?
The Dirty Pour Mobile Bar has you covered. You bring the bottles, they bring the energy, talent, and unmatched service that turns any party into an unforgettable experience. Give them a follow!

The Dirty Pour Mobile Bar Co. The Dirty Pour Mobile Bar Co. Now serving New England� Poured with purpose crafted for connection �