Memories of Ireland

Had lunch at the Holy Grail, “where your quest for great food ends,” a grand pub in Epping. It’s an Irish establishment so naturally I ordered the chicken picatta with penne. Delish! Loaded with capers and artichoke hearts. John had fish and chips. Also delish. And our friend Erin O’Halloran, an Irish gel herself, chowed down on bangers and mash. Our tummies were happy.

Just as good was the ambiance (that’s French for “this place is super cool.”) It used to be St. Joseph’s Church, built in 1896. Lot’s of churchy touches, including the original stained glass windows and a mural. It’s got a definite medieval flair as well. A larger-than-life monk statue greets visitors.

The visit reminded me of the few glorious times I’ve visited Ireland. A couple of memories. One is simply directions given in a village: “Drive down this road just a bit, then turn left at the Holy Virgin.”

The other, when a native was asked what a yellow line by the curb meant, he said: “No parking a’tall.”

Asked what two yellow lines by the curb meant:  “No parking a’tall a’tall.”

Here's Erin entering the Holy Grail:

Comments

[Brendan Cahoon]

NH Chronicle just did a story on the Holy Grail a few weeks ago (I was one of several people with their hands in it). Gotta head over there myself sometime.

[rebecca Rule]

It's completely worth the trip.