There's even a library to one side with a copy of Boyle's The Sceptical Chymist in a place of honor behind a small window. The bar looks like you walked into a druggist's circa 1900. This idea allowed someone to go ape with the apothecary theme, and buy up all the bedpans, mortars and pestles, scales and old glass bottles they could lay hands on. Overall, when it comes to Valley restaurants, FM has made one of the more sincere stabs at including Irish comestibles on its menu, and in doing those same dishes well.įibber's has the atmosphere, of course, and so does this new venture, its name swiped from some centuries-old tome by Anglo-Irishman Robert Boyle, a key figure in the transition of the pseudoscience of alchemy to chemistry. But manager David Maxwell promises there will be, and I believe him if only because Skeptical Chymist is owned by the same moneybags who own Chandler's Fibber Magees, a spot that has its boxty down. There's got to be some middle ground, and the team behind Scottsdale's weeks-new Skeptical Chymist is making the effort to locate it. of merchants, why try to hawk a bunch of weird stuff that you'll just have to explain ad nauseam to twits drawn in by the repros of ale adverts? All they want is nachos, burgers and quesadillas with their Guinness, anyway. Seen the current cover of that pinkie-wagging foodie rag Saveur? The editors dedicated the entire issue to "Delicious Ireland," to the country's cheeses, butter, seafood, soups, and - get this - tapas! They take Colcannon cakes and soda bread seriously, and I could kiss every one of those slow food nut-job scribblers for doing so.īut then we arrive at the matter's crux: Why bother with Gaelic grub when you'll be hard-pressed to even find a decent boxty at many of the places that lay claim to Aah-rishness? Boxty being that versatile tuber pancake, so satisfying when stuffed with beef, lamb, or even corned beef and cabbage. And for Yahweh's sake, don't throw that Irish-pub fave the Reuben sammy at me, because that's as Jewish as Larry David in a yarmulke. It still tastes savory when done well, even if the best corned beef and cabbage in this burg tends to come from decidedly non-Irish outlets.įorget the brined brisket for minute. Boiled cabbage goes back to the old country, but corned beef is something Irish immigrants bought from their Jewish neighbors on Gotham's Lower East Side. That's the origin of The Pogues' original name, Pogue Mahone, a phrase I like to loosely translate as "butter my buns with your lips." See, corned beef and cabbage is an American-Irish meal. ![]() Well, pardon my Gaelic, but Póg mo thóin. No one really wants to eat Irish food, right? What is that, anyway, corned beef and cabbage? Hell, I could design a successful Irish pub: Make sure there's Guinness and Harp on tap, keep the lighting low so the patrons can't tell that all that "antique" furniture is just crap you bought at IKEA and stained dark brown, and put at least one "traditional" Irish item on the menu, like, um, fish and chips - yeah, that's the ticket - along with plenty of burgers, nachos, and quesadillas. ![]() I'm as susceptible as the next person to all that Emerald Isle shtick this time of year, though in most cases it's as authentic as a big bar of Irish Spring. And if a little green man approaches you in one of them and offers to show you his shillelagh, chances are you've had one too many jars of Guinness, boyo. Hard to avoid 'em in this town or any other American city. Actually, I'm as sure that Shane MacGowan likes his Jameson that you've been to one.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |