Our Emerald Isle - Tour of De'Vere

                  

Our Emerald Isle – Tour of De’Vere

Brian and Traci were ecstatic and thrilled to finally meet Bev.  The three of them took an immediate liking for one another. 

After showing us to our room and allowing Bev and I to freshen up a bit they took us on a tour of the pub and the town.

The pub looked like what you expect an Irish pub to look like.  There was a sign protruding from just over the entrance that had once held the De’Vere Crest. "We, need to talk about that," Brian said.  The inside of the pub had walnut ceiling beams and wall joists were exposed against a white stucco background, there was a dart board in one corner along with a slate blackboard that one could keep score and place P’s and Q’s as the dart throwers drank their pints and quarts.  The tables, chairs, and benches were of dark oak and occupied by characters that must have come out of central casting.  The bar was a long dark wooden affair with several draft handles growing though the top it appeared and the wall behind the bar was lined with every sort of alcoholic beverage one could imagine and the schnapps were of more flavor than I thought existed.

De’Vere itself was just as quaint.  We were shown the post office, the Catholic Church, named St. De’Vere of course, the barbershop, meat and fresh produce market, laundry, tailor shop, bakery, local news paper, and all those who owned and ran such.

At the Town Hall we met the Mayor and Town Council, police chief along with the president of the De’Vere historical society, Mrs. O’Malley.  She had been the driving force in restoring the Pub and was especially pleased to meet us.  Mrs. O’Malley thought that it would be a proper thing for us all to have dinner and a few drinks tomorrow evening to celebrate the arrival of the new co-owners and proprietors and we all readily agreed.  Brian was a little hesitant I could tell but I did not say anything to him at the time.

On our way back to the pub Brian’s mood improved as he waved and spoke to all the lasses that passed.  Traci beamed and kept a coy and flirtatious smile on her face as she only nodded to the lads that seemed to cross the street just to tip their hats and wish her a good day.  It is the McAnally charm I guess.  They take after me.  All the men were good looking and the women appeared strong and I was sure all the kids were above average like in Woebegone.  I noticed Bev reached out and held my hand as if establishing property rights so no Irish winch would think I was available.

As we all four sat in one corner of the pub drinking a black and tan, except for Bev who does not drink often and only then in much moderation, I asked Brian why he seemed a little hesitant about the dinner tomorrow night.  Traci averted her eyes and cast them upon a young man who had just entered and excused herself to speak to him.  Brian looked at me than Bev and Bev got the hint and excused herself and said she wanted to check to see what was in the kitchen and how it was arranged. 

“That’s the problem.” And he pointed to Bev walking away.  “I thought you really liked Bev,” I said surprised.  “Oh no,” he quickly responded, “It is the kitchen or what comes out of the kitchen I should say.  You notice that Mrs. O’Malley suggested we eat dinner and have a few drinks.  She did not say lets get together and have a few drinks then eat dinner.”

“Well,” I replied, “You seem to be making a big deal out of nothing, so we eat then drink or drink then eat, what is the problem.”

He said, “It’s our cook.  He makes the best lamb stew you have ever tasted.  The problem is that that is all he knows how to make.  The town’s people are getting sick of it and have started to bring in their own sandwiches from the meat market and only buy drinks.  Besides I am getting pretty sick of it also and starting to do the same.  Doesn’t make for a good marketing plan when the owner doesn’t eat the food prepared in his own establishment.  I told the Town Council and Mrs. O’Malley that my brother, you, and his new wife, were excellent cooks and would be expanding our menu.”

“Well,” I said, “I don’t think that will be a problem, I have a lot of old Irish recipes floating around in my head that were handed down by our grandfather and Bev is a tremendous cook and can make much out of nothing.”

“It is pretty short notice, you think Bev is up to it?” he asked.   

“It isn’t a problem, take my word for it,” I said emphatically.  “Bar made, bring us another round of Black and Tan and leave that poor boy in the corner alone.”   Traci brought the drinks right away.