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IRISH PUBS AND GRUB

Over the years, I’ve noted a definite divide in my eating and drinking preferences that, more often than not, require someone to observe me both in the U.S. and when abroad in order for them to detect the difference.

In the U.S., you’re most likely to find me hanging out in wine-tasting rooms (private or public), and/or cocktail lounges, rather than bellying up to the bar with “the boys” in some local tavern. When you’re invited to dinner at my U.S. home, you’ll usually find me serving up more than one kind of wine, but you’ll have to look far and wide for a bottle of beer. There’s just something about the majority of North American beers (and I’m not just talking the watered-down Lites), that, in my opinion (possibly because of my having been raised on the heartier brews of Europe), find me very seldom searching any of them out. Granted, North American stores now provide a whole assortment of imported beers that would likely satisfy even my discerning palate, but somehow picking up a six-pack of Bavarian Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbler at my local U.S. grocery store just doesn’t do “it” for me enough to see beer provide much of an impact on my wining and dining experiences when hunkered down in the States.

However, set me down in any of the great brewing locales of the world...say, in Germany, during Ocktober Fest...and/or in Ireland...at just about any time of the year...and it’s quite another story. Suddenly, I’m thrust into pub-crawler mode that will see me off (always with a designated driver, of course), to check out just about every biergarten or pub within easy (and sometimes not-so-easy) access.

Over the years, I’ve concluded that it’s not just the more intense beers of Europe that so attract me, but, also, the food, by way of snacks, that often can be had in accompaniment, usually far more diverse and interesting than the usual fare of pickled hard-boiled eggs or micro-waved “whatever” that are their U.S. equivalents. By way of example, here’s the recipe of a particularly well-remembered Irish-pub snack that, since my first sampling on-site in Ireland, has, with only slight variations from the original, provided my friends and me with some very choice moments of enjoyable eating.

Open-Face Irish Pub Sandwich

8 sweet or hot sausages—not smoked

2 bottles of Guinness Beer—enough to cover sausages

2 red bell peppers, cored, and seeded, cut into ¼-inch rings

2 yellow bell peppers, cored and seeded, cut into ¼-inch rings

2 TBS olive oil

1 medium onion, cut into ¼-inch rings (prevent onion slices from separating by securing them horizontally with a wooden toothpicks).

2 TBS Worcestershire sauce

2 tsps balsamic vinegar

4 elongated (“hoagie”) rolls

1 tomato, sliced

Simmer sausages in the Guinness Beer over medium-low heat for about 10 minutes. Drain on paper towels.

In a bowl, toss the red and yellow bell-pepper rings with 1½ TBS oil.

Brush onion rings with the remaining ½ TBS olive oil.

Over medium high heat, grill sausages until nicely brown and cooked through.

Grill veggies on well-oiled grill, or in batches in a well-seasoned or oiled grill pan, over medium-high heat, for about 3 minutes, each side. Transfer to a bowl and toss lightly in Worcestershire Sauce and balsamic vinegar. Discard toothpicks from onions.

Halve grill sausages, lengthwise.

Halve buns, lengthwise, and grill, cut sides down, for about 1 minute—don’t overcook or you’ll risk dryness.

Evenly divide sausages, bell peppers, and onions on each halved roll.

Garnish each open-faced sandwich with fresh tomato slices.

Makes four sizable servings!

NOTE: Nothing beats drinking a bottle of Guinness with this, especially when in Ireland. Stateside, I often serve a Washington State Vintner’s Reserve, World Vineyard Collection, Sangiovese.