How the Irish Bred Pub Saved Sequestration

When we think of civilized peoples and foods the Greeks, Italians, French and Chinese come quickly to mind. The Irish, on the other hand, are wild, feckless, charming, morose, repressed and corrupt, but not especially civilized. After all, they believe in Leprechauns and Notre Dame football. If we strain to think of "Irish civilization," no image appears, no Fertile Crescent or Indus Valley, no brooding bust of Beethoven. The simplest Greek restaurateur will name his establishment "Parthenon," thus linking himself to an imagined ancestral culture. A semi literate restaurateur of Sicilian origin will give pride of place to his plaster copy of Michelangelo's David, and so assert his presumed Renaissance ties. But an Irish businessman is far more likely to name his concern "O'Brien's" or "Irish Bred Pub," foregoing all attempts to link themselves to anything but the concept of Guinness Stout.

Ireland is a little island at the edge of Europe that has known neither Renaissance nor Enlightenment.  It is a country which in some ways is a Third World country with a Stone Age culture. However, other than saving western literature by copying the manuscripts of great works by hand in the dark ages, Ireland has had one other moment of unblemished glory: As restaurant after restaurant failed in downtown Montgomery a/k/a "the Gump," as all through the city matted, unwashed barbarians descended on the remains of hole's in the wall, looting artifacts and burning menus, the Irish Bred Pub owners, who apparently were just learning to construct a restaurant, took up the great labor of building a true pub in downtown Montgomery and plastering upon the walls thereof everything they could lay their hands on. As such, the owners of the Irish Bred Pub saved the Gump from sequestration or, at least, the fear thereof.

Picture a beautiful sunny and crisp Sunday in the Gump on March 3, 2013.  Our government, as our politicians bleated, had just self-destructed by imposing upon itself draconian and apocalyptic cuts that would soon cause commercial planes to crash into each other, bears in national parks to starve from the lack of tourist picnic baskets and our military to force women into combat. As you would expect, after the predictions of doom and gloom surrounding sequestration, the already prone to drink repressed Irishman in me, was lamenting my failure to convert all my assets into gold bullion and waiting for the sky to fall. After all, we Irishmen have an abiding sense of tragedy which sustains us through temporary periods of joy.

However, on my way to catch up at work on that same Sunday afternoon, I came upon an oasis on the corner of a deserted block of Dexter Avenue which was open and thriving with a lunch crowd serious about drinking and eating despite the reported impending collapse of our economy.  Yes, acting on intelligence from Squeak and the GGPs (see prior post)  I threw my morose mood aside and, after easily finding a place to park not far away, pulled upon the door to the Irish Bred Pub and stepped into a world where sequestration did not seem so daunting.

At 12 noon on Sundays at the Irish Bred Pub they begin to pour drinks of all kinds.  Guinness, Jameson, Car Bombs, Irish Coffee, Bailey's, Bushmills and, we hope, even the Middleton. The walls of this cozy three-story bar/restaurant are adorned with memorabilia, flat screens showing Tottenham v. Arsenal (English thugs), and Irish sayings galore.  The one that caught my eye as poignantly appropriate: "A politician should always think twice before he says nothing."  Of course, we Irish are a very fair people because we never speak well of one another. Unfortunately, our U.S. politicians are very unfair people because they only speak well of those who agree with them.  Or so says I.

Even the tartar sauce was good (and I do not like tartar sauce).

With a dark and tan Guinness at the ready and a large portion of fish and chips (with slaw) on my plate I struggled to muddle through the various viewpoints that had spewed from by Telly over the past through days.  Fortunately, the only thing on in the Irish Bred Pub was American basketball and English football so I could actually think for myself. The fish was delicious. 

Says I to myself, you know, says I, that if I only had to cut 3% from my budget over the next year I doubt I would miss anything too important. And if, as it appears, that was really only a cut of 3% from the growth of my income over the next year i.e. living without a raise this year, then I am pretty sure I could manage.  Problem is that nobody in Washington wants to lead us right now.  Indeed that is sad but it is definitely not the end of western civilization. It is only the beginning of sequestration.  And, says I, I and my friends at the Irish Bred Pub will survive sequestration.  Now, says I, if we could only get our leaders to become Irishmen.

How the Irish Saved Western Civilization...and Whiskey Making

St. Patty wondering if you can make whiskey from a shamrock (he actually wore blue you know).

On St. Patrick's day I dined at the Gumpwood CC and Snobatorium where they served an very fine Irish Whiskey dinner. On the menu was a wedge with Jameson Blue Cheese followed by a corned-beef brisket simmered in Jameson Irish Whiskey. Both were positively superb. During the dinner we sampled 12 and 18-year-old Jameson and a single-malt Michael Collins. Dessert was a divine chocolate cheesecake served with hot Irish coffee. After dinner I enjoyed Arturo Fuente 8-5-8 cigars and a ride in a new Porsche Panamera S which was unfortunately not mine. Why am I telling you all this?

Because, my dear, we would be speaking Arabic now but for our dear Irish ancestors and their perchance for copying and hiding historical manuscripts along with making what we now know as Irish Whiskey from barley, yeast and water.

Being a decayed Irish gentleman and our resident snob, I offer the following history lesson as a public service to those of you protestants who wrongfully drink Scotch out of ignorance or spite.

You all probably know that between the fall of Rome and the rise of medieval Europe Irish monks hid the famous manuscripts from Rome and Greece, as well as the new testament from the mongol hordes during the dark ages.  They also copied them adding beautiful illustrations by hand.  My alma mater, Trinity College in Dublin, is the home of the Book of Kells which is one of the earliest such preserved copies of the New Testament. Most copies of historical manuscripts that we have were saved from destruction by the Irish monks.  By the way, the St. Patrick we celebrated today was the former slave who lead the scribes who copied the thousands of Greco-Roman and Judeo-Christian manuscripts which served as the repositories for our culture. Without their brave and devoted service, there is no saying what we would be boring our schoolchildren with today nor what language we would be jibberbabbering. But enough about that,  on to my personal favorite: The Story of Irish Whiskey!

In the middle ages there were over 1,300 distilleries in Ireland making whiskey.  By the end of the 19th century, Catherine the Great of Russia confirmed the general belief at that time that Irish Whiskey was the finest whiskey in the entire world.  Unfortunately, because of prohibition in the U.S. and elsewhere, most of the distilleries in Ireland failed and due to our dust-up with Britain, Irish products were banned from England during WWII so that the American G.I.s were only allowed to drink that disgustingly peaty and smokey product from Scotland.  Hence, millions of G.I.s returned to the U.S. with a taste for Scotch unaware that a finer and smoother whiskey was available across the Irish sea.

Today, there are only three distilleries in Ireland and only one is still owned by an Irishman. Bushmills Distillery (located in Northern Ireland and not something any respectable Catholic Irishman would drink) is the protestant distillery. Middleton (Jameson) Distillery in County Cork serves the good Catholics. The Cooley Distillery in County Louth is still Irish owned and produces the brand Michael Collins, who was a leader in the Irish rebellion which lead to Irish independence from Britain in 1921. The English would call him a terrorist but he is revered in the Republic of Ireland. Michael Collins is generally less-expensive than Jameson or Bushmills and is now available in our state-run liquor dispensaries oddly called ABC Stores.

Scotch and Irish Whiskey are made with exactly the same ingredients. But because Irish Whiskey is made with barley that is mostly* malted in gas-fired ovens (i.e. not fueled with that smelly peat-moss), it has a smoother and less smokey taste. Most Scotch drinkers given a choice and a blind taste test would choose any blended Irish Whiskey over any blended Scotch, I mean those with functioning taste buds would.

*The single-malt Michael Collins is "slightly peated."

If you are currently a Scotch drinker and take nothing from this post I trust you will show some humanity and gratitude for the hard work of St. Patrick and his monks and put in an order at your favorite pub for a spot of the finest whiskey in the world.  And that would be a spot of the Irish Whiskey!

Happy St. Patty's day to the lot of you! Sláinte! (Cheers!).