Jeremiah captures the spirit of the beloved Blarney Cove on 14th Street today. Another EV Grieve favorite. Reading his post reminded me of one of my first visits, whenever that was. (Also, seems as if my dive-bar anecdotes all involve food.) Three of us went in during some off time in late January one year. Only one other person was at the bar, way down by the door. It was the first time that I'd seen this bartender. And he certainly didn't know us. He was friendly as all the BC folks are. After a few rounds, he asked us if we were hungry. Not really. Still, he said he had some food that he could put out for us. "Oh, thank you very much. That's very nice of you. We're just not hungry at the moment." Perfect! With that, he bolted down the basement steps and gingerly came back up carrying a six-foot party sub wrapped in plastic. Where this thing had been stored (and for how long), we didn't know. With the care of, say, a paleontologist, he unwrapped the beastly thing. I may be wrong about this, but I swear after the unveiling the bartender did a little "ta-da!" Keeping with the paleontology theme, the bread was as hard as a fossil. We politely nibbled at it and thanked him. And ordered another round.
