Off to the Pub

After my annual pre-birthday trek to Jake's in downtown Portland for raw oysters and an icy cold vodka martini...I decided to trek some more over to the pub just down the street from home for a bit of music and cheer. I have come to the decision that a real neighborhood pub just two blocks from my door is officially going on my "must-have's in life" list. (right behind espresso, bordeaux and chevre)

From my vantage point in lovely LO I have several bars within easy walking distance, however, there's something about Maher's that always makes it my first choice. My pub is owned by real Irish people...you know, like, from Ireland. Can you imagine? In an age where most restaurants and "pubs" manufacture their atmosphere (think Applebee's or Olive Garden...wait, on second thought...DON'T) it's wholeheartedly refreshing to know people who bring to life simply what they do best. Which in this case is great food, a genuinely warm welcome and, of course, a perfectly pulled pint of Guiness...every time.

Maybe it's the lure of perfectly prepared Steak and Guiness Pie or colcannon that calls me. More likely, it's the family friendly atmosphere where you can catch up on the local gossip with your neighbors, and wind down after work without breaking the budget. Now, lest you think me the gullible type...well, I am, but that's another story...I dragged my "real" irish friend currently living in the horrifying suburbs of Beaver-killmenow-ton to join me and evaluate the authenticity of the experience. In no time at all, Carl and the Maher's were swapping stories of home and the next thing I knew I was joining in with the musicians singing Dirty Old Town, and all before the first pint was done.


I began to wonder why there are so few "Maher's" in the US, thought better of it, and ordered another beer.  Cead Mile Failte!