A quick pint in Montreal

So on a Thursday I find myself in downtown Montreal with the Hammer and the LBoH, with a little time to pass in between “Just for Laughs” events. The second show is in a dodgy-looking neighbourhood on Ste Catherine East that turns out to have a hidden gem. We grab a pint at le Sainte Elizabeth to slake our thirst.

Is this a narrow street, or a wide alley? It definitely feels like an alley. The pub seems to be the only actual building front. The comedy venue opens across the street, but it definitely looks like a side door. Le Sainte Elizabeth “Pub Européen” looms out of the darkness, three stories high with a black and white painted sign that might easily be as old as the 19^th century stone building itself.

Inside the pub is dim and cozy, the bar is stuffed in to a back corner near the door. How the multiple bartenders can work in that small space is a mystery. There are three sets of tightly-arrayed taps, all different I think. Lots of domestics, a decent selection of Quebec brands, and a few rare imported drafts. I order a Beck’s, which I like in bottle have almost never seen as draft. LBoH get a Bass, and the Hammer a dull domestic. My eyes make out leather-seated booths, wood panelling, some beaten copper, a row of beer-brand mirrors at the dip in the ceiling, and a huge circular window at the back. It is busy, and the 80’s-90’s music is cool, but loud. We used to say “If it’s too loud, you’re too old”. Maybe they still do. In any case I know I am pretty much there.

The pub looks too small to be this busy. Why are there so many bartenders and servers in a 20x25 room? Then I see that there is a back courtyard, and we take our beers out in to the night air. The two-level courtyard is impressive. It is defined by tall brick walls, covered with ivy and tastefully lit; mature trees break up the dozens of full tables. It’s really cool, but only in the figurative sense. Not nearly as comfortable in the humid summer night as the air-conditioned interior, to which we soon return to find a table and finish our drinks.

I see no evidence of a kitchen, or food of any sort. Not that I am hungry, but pubs by definition serve food, and I am starting to think this place might not count as a ‘real’ pub. Maybe it doesn’t. And maybe it’s too loud. But maybe I will come here again, regardless.

A country charmer

For my birthday, I gathered with some loved ones at The Cheshire Cat, in Carp.  Imagine what a country pub should look like, and you are probably not far off.  The Cat is not an ancient establishment, but it has taken over an ancient building in a way that only a confident feline can.   In this case, a 128 year old former one-room schoolhouse, solidly built from native stone.   Entering, the bar greets you like a lopsided grin on the right-hand side, studded with taps like teeth, and across the main room, a staircase to the upper level provides a tail-like balance to the scene.  

The owners describe their pub as English and it is reflective of Canada’s Loyalist heritage, but I think it is a really Canadian pub.  There is a vintage portrait of HM the Queen, and an endearing and equally large print of HRH The Queen Mother quaffing a pint (at some other pub, alas).   The menu and the beer selection show Canadian pride.  Standard British pub fare is proudly detailed with its locally sourced ingredients, and the beer list also has a distinct Canadian flavour.  The choice includes the UK’s Fullers ESB, and Germany’s Erdinger weissbrau, but from Ontario Beau’s,  Creemore,  Kitchisippi Natural Blonde and 1855, and a full line of Mill Street Brewery products.  All in all, the Cat claims eighteen beers on draught (and one cider), and the most pedestrian of them (Stella Artois) might be the highlight of a lesser place.  They offer one cask ale, changed weekly.   Go early in the week, because it sells out.  As the Kitchisippi did this time, and I contented myself with the regular version.

From the start, the owners of the Cheshire Cat have emphasized good food.  Successfully, I must say.  And it certainly draws a crowd.  The large parking lot was full and I nabbed the last space in the overflow lot, while my friend parked on the road.  We ate a variety of dishes:  steak and mushroom pie, haddock and chips, sweet potato fries, and a mixed seafood dish whose name escapes me.  Everything was tasty (even the cole slaw), and generous. 

What does one look for in a pub?  Good food, good drink, and a friendly atmosphere?  The Cheshire Cat has them all in abundance.  It’s a schoolhouse I’d never dread to attend, and though in the great debate I am firmly a dog person, I do love the Cheshire Cat.

A Brewhouse!

Finding a pub when travelling can be very hit & miss.  In Canada, hotel staff are often a good
source of recommendations, especially if you are specific about what you are looking for.  In
the USA... I wish you the best of luck.  Bobobobob found us a lovely spot via the internet a couple of years ago, and every time we are in Long Island we go back to the Brickhouse Brew Pub in Patchogue, NY.

The Brickhouse sits in a streetcorner brick building on the repectable downtown strip of Patchogue, not far from the ocean.  It's a busy spot on weekend evenings, and usually has live music.  The front bar doesn't have a lot of seating, but has lots of bar space and the only TV is a pull-down projection screen showing a ballgame.  I spent my time in the very pleasant rear dining room decorated with old-timey murals above the wainscotting facing across the two side walls.  The 1890's beachfront scene draws me in, and I can almost hear the crash of the surf and the chugging steam engine of the tour boat.  I wonder how people coul stand the summer heat in those three-piece suits and long gowns.  A straw boater hat might be nice, though.

The menu is pretty varied, and we all ate something different.  it was all good.  Pasta, sandwiches, appetizers.  You can't really go wrong here.  The beer menu is less varied.  They are honest and justified in their pride of their locally-brewed beer.  There were six draughts available.  Four of their own, and a pair from Blue Point (another LI microbrewery).   Brickhouse's Street Light, Hurricane Kitty, Mugga Chugga (!!!) and Nitro Boom Stout, and Blue Point's Toasted Lager and Blueberry Ale.  I love the whimsical names, and they brew a good enough product that even curmudgeonly patrons must hold their tongues.  The selection varies a bit, but you can check the current offerings on their website (http://www.brickhousebrewery.com/tap-room.html).   I had the Hurricane Kitty, Al and Mr. chris picked Street Light, and Bobobob got a flight with 1/2 pints of all options, and he was kind enough to share tastes.  IMO, stout is an acquired taste, and it was the only one Bobobob did not finish. 

The Brickhouse?  It's worth the drive.  Every time I'm in Long Island, I will return for the fine food and beer, and gay-90's holiday atmosphere of the dining rooom.  I only wish they sold beer as take-out.  

Two for one, or "what's in a name?"

I visited two pubs this week.  Or possibly none, depending on how you count them. 

Liam Maguire's, on St Laurent Blvd in Ottawa, doesn't call itself a pub, or a sports bar, but is
somewhere in between.  It looks and feels a a lot like a pub, though it has a ridiculous amount
of TVs for a bar its size.  All tuned to TSN.  I went there on a Tuesday with the Little Wooden
Boy.  It was quiet, almost serene.  A haven of perfect dark-wood panelling, and comfy seats.

Liam's sports 17 beers on tap.  Sadly, nothing worth noting.  I was considering a Stella
when my friend pointed out that the bottled beer list included Czechvar.  Have you ever had
Czechvar, or do you even know what I am talking about?  it's an awesome Czech beer from a little town called Budweiss.  They're not allowed to call it by it's original name in North America. 
Another lesser beer uses that name.

Food is pretty good.  Much better than  ten years ago when this was a Hooters.  I had a tasty
sausage and penne pasta, and the Little Wooden Boy had a beef au jus sandwich.  From previous
vists I can also vouch for the chicken wings and club sandwiches.  The service was a bit less
than desired, though.  And seriously, should you really hire only  pony-tailed blonde
waitresses?   In plain black uniforms, with sunglasses (they shared the patio)  it was
impossible to identify our server when I wanted a second beer.

- - -

Is a 'bar and grill' a pub?  I'm inclined to say Yes, especially if it is a neighbourhood place.

 On Thursday I stopped for supper at Smiler's Grille and Bar in Dickson City, PA.  Beers on tap?  Check.  Pub food?  Check (and more).  Friendly atmosphere, prominent bar, obvious regulars?  Check, check and check.  It was even in an old house, and divided into several specialised spaces ( front bar, dining and games rooms).  Nice original tin ceiling.   Smilers came highly recommended by the internet, for food, service and beer selection.  My first thoughts?  Wow this place is small; Holy crap what a huge menu; What a stupidly tiny and prehistoric bathroom; And geez, this kitsch is authentic! Photos  of a sponsored local stock car, and hometown boys serving overseas in the army. 

The beer list was not impressive, and we all had the Saranac Summer Ale.   It was perfect for
the season and weather, by all accounts.  There were only six things on tap, and one of them was a non alcoholic birch beer!  Not a bad one, though.  The bottled list was no more impressive,
with only beer I would cross the street to try: Yards IPA.  The Yards was tasty, hoppy with a
hint of citrus, but the 7% alocohol also came through in the taste.  For me, it was a beer I could only drink one of at a session.

The menu was impressive, but my steak and shrimp was pretty bland.  Bobobobob had perogies and calamari.  The latter was generous but swimming in butter.  Uncle Al's prime rib was overcooked.   Mr Chris had no complaints about his steak, but only because he ordered well-done.  The veggies were overcooked.

The service was impressive.  Our friendly unnamed waitress gave us all numbers (1, 2, 3 & 4... "Don't change seats"), and kept it all straight.  She was always there when we needed her attention.  We all agreed we would look for an excuse to add this place our regular road trips. 
But maybe not for food.

Patty's Pub

On Friday, I met two friends at one of Ottawa's oldest irish pubs, Patty's Pub (opened 1974). 
Standing alone in a little  building on Bank street,  between the Rideau River and the canal.  This pub oozes charm.  The seating areas are broken up by walls and high-backed wooden pews and are quite cozy.  There's even a snug.  The lights are dim, and the old-country decor surrounds you from the broad, worn floorboards to the fireplace, to the timber-framed ceiling and the airy skylight.  There was a hum of conversation that masked the low, inoffensive background music.

I was very excited to see the long line of taps at the bar.  I counted 25, though Guiness  appeared twice.  Selections ranged from the very local Beau's Lugtread, and several other provincial choices, to the usual Irish and Belgian offerings, and the slightly less common  Kronenbourg 1664.  I enjoyed pints of Beau's and 1664, the latter in a beautiful glass that a  younger (or drunker) me might very well have tried to add to my home collection.   

I was first to get there, and quite hungry.  One of those facts will be a shock to some of you, and I'll let the rest of you guess which one.  The bruschetta was very nice, and it was a test of will to make sure some remained for the last of my friends to arrive.

Our waitress was very nice, and seemed knowledgable about the food.  She managed to get my  friend Tenacious V's veggie wrap made as a sandwich instead, which was nice.  Lil' Ball o'Hate (LBoH) is a fan of boxtys, and loved the lamb-filled offering here.  I had a philly cheesesteak which I frankly struggle to describe.  There aren't very many fun ways to say 'bland', unfortunately (if you have suggestions, please add them in the comments!).   Eventually, we found a little room each to split a desert.  A well-presented chocolate cake-thing, which we all loved.  Not too rich, not too sweet.

Having not yet visted Ireland, I can't comment on the Irish authenticity of Patty's Pub.  But what I can tell you is this: each of my several visits has flown by in comfort and good conversation.  I'm always surprised by how late it is when I leave.  Is this what they mean by "the craic"? 

The Royal Oak, Sandy Hill

Our first stop (OK, your first stop; I've done about 200 pubs so far) is the Royal Oak in Sandy Hill.  This place has been a pub as long as I've been in Ottawa, though it wasn't always part of the Royal Oak chain.  It's in an old house across the street from Ottawa U, and so has more charm and character than most chain-owned pubs.

I met up with some friends here on a Wednesday night.  We ate, we drank, and we embarrassed a room full of students at pub trivia.  I mean, we beat them.  Nothing embarrassing happened otherwise.  Anyway, the trivia at the Oak is live entertainment, and the weekly Wednesday game is the only weekday entertainment. They have bands on the weekends, but no games, darts or billiards for mid-week patrons.  

But nobody goes to a pub for trivia, right?  At least nobody cool, and especially not with back-episodes of Jeopardy available on the internet. 

The Royal Oak chain is known for having a pretty good selection of beers on tap, and the Sandy Hill location doesn't let the side down, with 18 beers on tap.  (I didn't ask about bottles; no self-respecting pub-crawler drinks from a bottle when there's a decent draught selection).  The Oak's bar boasts not one but two (2!) hand-pumped kegs!  So obviously I had to choose one of them, either the Fuller's London Pride or the Fuller's Extra Special Bitter.  I went with the ESB.  Three times.  Yummy.  

Any real pub serves food.  By definition, I think.  Pub crawlers don't usually take time to eat, unless they are actually crawling.  But we ate, and whenever I can I will comment on the food at the pubs into which I stumble.  I used to think that the Oak's food has deteriorated a bit as the chain has grown, but of the three dishes we tried (fish and chips, quesadilla and club sammich), everyone pronounced it 'good'.  Nothing spectacular, though.  Which is really the final comment about the whole pub.  The prices are a little above average, and the service is not.  I suppose I can't really complain about my $8 beer, since my drunken friend the Li'l Ball o' Hate paid for everyone's tab.