Two reasons to leave a pub

Waiting for the dentist's practice to open this afternoon, I hopped up on a bar stool in a certain Walkinstown pub and asked for a Rock Shandy.

"Do you want ice in it?" the barman asked. In all seriousness.

I suppose there are people who don't want ice in their rock shandies, but I am not one of them.

Half an hour later and about to serve my second rock shandy, he stood, correctly, sideways on so that I could see the half fizzy lemon drink and the half fizzy orange drink going into the pint glass. All went well until he let a great big

"HARRR-ARGH-UP!"

of a cough go.

He did cover his mouth, I'll give him that. Unfortunately, he covered his mouth with the hand with which he next picked up my pint glass of rock shandy with ice. And picked it up by cupping his hand right around three-quarters of the top half of the glass.

As he'd not had time to take away the empty, I gingerly lifted the germ-encrusted glass and tipped its contents into the first one. Somehow or other, I only had room for about half. I departed, looking forward to having a tooth drilled more avidly than the drinking of that pint. Ice or no ice.

Anyway, the rock shandy cost €6.20.

Bloody hell.

Pub Opening Hours on St Patrick's Day

Intoxicating Liquor Act, 2000

3.—Section 2 (as substituted by section 25 of the Act of 1988 and amended by section 2 of the Act of 1995) of the Act of 1927 is amended by the substitution of the following subsections for subsection (1):"(1) Save as otherwise provided by this Act, it shall not be lawful for any person to sell or expose for sale any intoxicating liquor, or to open or keep open any premises for the sale of intoxicating liquor, or to permit any intoxicating liquor to be consumed on licensed premises—(a) at any time on Christmas Day or Good Friday;(b) on any other day, as specified hereunder, outside the times so specified in respect of it—(i) Saint Patrick's Day: between 12.30 p.m. and 12.30 a.m. on the following day;(ii) the 23rd December: if it falls on a Sunday, between 10.30 a.m. and 11.30 p.m.;(iii) Christmas Eve and the eve of Good Friday: between 10.30 a.m. and 11.30 p.m.;(iv) the eve of any public holiday (other than Christmas Eve):(I) if the eve falls on a weekday, between 10.30 a.m. and 12.30 a.m. on the following day, or(II) if it falls on a Sunday, between 12.30 p.m. and 12.30 a.m. on the following day;(v) any other Sunday (except a Saint Patrick's Day which falls on a Sunday): between 12.30 p.m. and 11.00 p.m.;(vi) any other Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday: between 10.30 a.m. and 11.30 p.m.; and(vii) any other Thursday, Friday or Saturday: between 10.30 a.m. and 12.30 a.m. on the following day.(1A) The hours specified in paragraph (b) of subsection (1) in respect of any day specified in that paragraph are in addition to the period between midnight and 12.30 a.m. on that day where that period is included in the hours so specified in respect of the eve of that day.

Got it?

Pub Grub is alive and well

Over the holiday, Herself and I had the pleasure of dining out more than once. We're not foodies and we don't do the posh restaurant thing. Our local, The Old Mill, is quite good for carvery at dinner hour, but our travels usually meant that we missed this and had to rely on the "waitress service" alternative. This doesn't differ much from the carvery, and in fact has some advantages. No queuing. Also, while the Mill's grub is good and comes in generous amounts, I've always found the veggies to be on the chilly side. It's difficult to keep food hot when it's been pre-cooked.

The waitress service comes with a set daytime/evening menu but there's plenty on it. The 8 oz sirloin appears still sizzling on a small platter of its own on a bed of sweated onions and mushrooms. Chips make up the rest on a side-plate. Although it looks smallish, there's enough in the whole to make a decent meal. And it's been made on the spot, so everything is piping.

We did the Burger King visit this holiday too. The drive thru on the Belgard Road produced a semi-defrosted bun between whose halves over-chilled salad bits sucked the heat out of a wafer-thin piece of beef. This was called a "Whopper". The fries, so thin they could do nothing but go cold and hard, scratched about in their cardboard.

Somewhere in between, we found two pubs serving sandwiches in a way that doesn't seem to have changed much in the past thirty years. Delaneys, in Firhouse, displays the sambos in wrap, then performs surgery on them with little plastic skewers in the shapes of sabres. This took me back to my childhood, as my father used to bring these home. He obviously drank in Delaneys too.

The other pub, The Coach House, in Roundwood, Co. Wicklow, served up our sandwich orders on huge white porcelain platters and provided a good sized teapot.

Both Delaneys and The Coach House had one extra ingredient served on the side of the plate which caused me some small surprise. The contents of a bag of cheese and onion crisps.

I'm not a foody but I've obviously been watching the wrong food programmes on the telly. I haven't seen the freshly made sandwiches being arranged nicely; the few leaves of exotic lettuce, the sliced greens, the onions being arranged as an optional salad or garnish. The chef, I know, went to some trouble to stir up a light vinegrette and drizzle it over this. But at what point does the waiter say:

"Open another bag of crisps. A customer wants a chicken salad sandwich"?

Are they being served as "Traditional Fare"? Any thoughts?