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A D V E R T I S E M E N T
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A D V E R T I S E M E N T
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When Irish Eyes Are Crying
Let’s deal with the Burning Question first: Yes, Guinness tastes better in Ireland. Amazingly better. Part of this is simply freshness, explained the publican at Mulligan’s, which is a mile or two from the Dublin brewery; but it’s also because the Guinness Police make regular visits to every pub to flush the lines. So your pint is always as clean and fresh as an Irish spring. Chow, Baby had many, many pints during its week on the Emerald Isle.
No surprise that Dublin is a drinking town, but sadly, it’s far from a foodie mecca. Plus, given the weak dollar, every not-great meal was also heart-stoppingly expensive. Just for perspective — Chow, Baby of course didn’t eat there — a Burger King combo meal costs about $12. For about the same price, Chow, Baby had a very good burger at indie Bóbó’s Gourmet Burgers, whose “top quality prime young Irish heifer meat” was quite flavorful, particularly with a thick slice of Dubliner cheese, but was as dry as Irish wit. Up against the likes of Fred’s, Star Café, and the Love Shack, it wouldn’t even be in the running for Best Burger here. Poor Dubliners.
Well, you’d expect Texas to have the burger edge, but what about a real U.K. specialty? At Burdock’s, Dublin’s most famous fish ’n’ chippery, $16.50 will get you a foot-size piece of fresh-fried, never-frozen cod and a mound of big, thick, soft potato chunks, all delightfully greasy. But they’re not beer-battered with small-batch Amber Ale, like the nuggets in the Covey’s fish ’n’ chips ($20; 3010 S. Hulen St.). Plus, on Chow, Baby’s last visit the Covey even had quite the Irish pub atmosphere going, first because the dining room was closed and we got to eat in the noisy bar, and then because our server was as lackadaisical as though she were making a livable hourly wage and didn’t depend on tips — the European server-paying system, which Chow, Baby supports in theory (it’s the fairest way) but hates in practice (for the third time, where’s my malt vinegar?). Chow, Baby will stick with cheap, delicious, and purposefully informal Zeke’s Fish ’n’ Chips (5920 Curzon Av.).
By far — by far — the best Irish meal Chow, Baby had was a $10 gyro (they call it by its Turkish name, döner kebab), at a quick-service Middle Eastern place called Sultan. Though the meat is shaped into a cone and roasted on a vertical spit like we see here, in Ireland the meat is all marinated fresh lamb, not a processed-beef-and-lamb mash. The meld of burnt-edge flavor crystals and juicy medium-rare meat on a huge soft pita was pure glory. Chow, Baby, who rarely revisits, went back to Sultan twice, the last time on the way to the airport so it could taunt the other Aer Lingus passengers. Back home, Chow, Baby’s lamb source is Beirut Rock Café (1201 S. Cooper St., Arlington) for their housemade hummus topped with ground lamb ($6.99); cute little lamb meat pies (four for $4.49); lamb shish kabob ($9.99); lamb shank ($9.99) that’s better than the Irish stew at Dublin’s Hairy Lemon; and Chow, Baby’s newest addiction, grilled lamb chops ($13.99). (Beirut’s default doneness is medium-well; speak up if you want different.) If only Beirut Rock served Guinness, Chow, Baby’s little corner of Ireland in Texas would be perfect.
Contact Chow, Baby at chowbaby@fwweekly.com.
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