These days I have to be careful about what I eat and what I drink. No salt. No alcohol. The wife can't have gluten or dairy. So all of those post about the restaurants we would go to is a thing of the past.
Now my cardiologist is a guinea and he knows what's what. He tells me that generally I have to be strict but once a month I can have a drink or something a little salty. You see we don't eat out because it is very hard to find gluten free alternatives. So the wife gets this app that list all the gluten free joints within five miles of where we might be. That really worked out for us tonight.
We had to go to our new favorite place "U Break I Fix." It is a new chain that fixes electronics. Ipads. Ipods. Computers. Basically anything with a plug. We brought a couple of things that were so easy to fix that the guy didn't even charge us. Today we brought a track pad mouse for an Mac computer. The guy fixed it one two three and we were good to go. We step outside and decide we want to eat out and check out the gluten free app. Low and behold we are standing right in front of the first thing on the screen. Monaghan's Irish Pub.
Now this is the type of joint that Nick would mock as Lace Curtain and as you know I am Shanty Irish on my fathers side. Still and all we decide to give it a shot. It is a traditional Irish pub with traditional Irish fare. Bangers and Mash. Shepards Pie. Blood Pudding. Irish Nachos. But wonder of wonders they have separate kitchen and a full separate gluten free menu. I was chatting with the manager who told me that there were tons of Celiac patients in Ireland so this was common on the Old Sod. They make all of the traditional dishes gluten free. Score.
We sit down and the first choice is what to drink. Now back in the day I was good for 10 to 12 pints of Guinness a day. Yeah I was a fat drunken fuck. Think Jackie Gleason without the talent. A couple of pints at lunch and then eight to ten more into the wee hours of the morning. I haven't had a pint in about two years. I had to take my chance.
Of course the warden got on my case and told me I had to watch what I could order for dinner if I had the pint. I mean shit I nursed the fucking thing but waddaygonnado? So I forgot about the Reuben sandwich or the Bangers and Mash or the Giant make your own burger and went for the rare Dublin Broil. The wife had the Gluten free Shepard's pie that was delicious. It was sublime I have to say.
The place was relaxed and had a great atmosphere. I saw that they had some great deserts but we had to give it a Pasadena since we had had enough rule breaking to last the month.
It brought back so many good memories of when we were helping run an Irish pub in the City. Those were the fucking days. I would call them salad days but we never ate a fuckin' salad for fook's sake.
Still and all I got to have a fuckin' pint.
Sláinte
4 comments:
You always need a little of the bad stuff. That's why some of these weird diets can be dangerous. Some fat is necessary, f'rinstance.
The Blonde is big on what you need in terms of daily and what you can't do without long term.
Glad things are working out. I know it can be tough.
Windbag's words are a replica of what I've had sitting overnight in my unsent comment box:
Looking good TY! I'm glad you were able to have a fine time out.
I stopped eating dairy myself in Feb, after the alternative doc said doing so might help with the arthritis and inflammation I was experiencing, and it has. That along with going GF, which I been doing for 3 years now with good results, has severely limited our dining out options. Not that we can't find something to eat, but it's not as fun, easy or free feeling as it used to be.
To have an experience like this together as you did, reminiscent of old times in a new time, borders on joy, a strange word to use, but a companion to peace and definitely good!
I don't see an old man in that photograph. Weight looks under control.
It's good to find a doctor from your own people. I recently went to two East Indian doctors and there was no connect, none at all.
Who the heck can AFFORD 11 Guinnesses a day?!
At my mothers twin brother's funeral a couple years ago, as myself and cousins carried my beloved Uncle Mike out of the packed church, the choir sang, When Irish Eyes are Smiling. Not a dry eye in the house.
Proud of how you're taking care of body, mind and spirit. You have a good bride. Love seeing that Irish smile.
Post a Comment