Finished up the panto, last night, at 9pm and I was dying too wined down. Sadly, I was being asked by pretty much all my colleagues if I fancied a karaoke night in Sinnotts. Now, me and karaoke have never gone hand and hand. I used to go out to these ones over in the woolshed on Parnell St. with a few mates until I realised it was shite. When I am locked the last thing I should be doing is performing, I can just see it, my name being called, everyone screaming with enthusiasm but, in truth, lowly chuckling in excitement for the fact that they are about to witness one of their mates drunkenly get up on stage and sing his own horrible rendition of ‘Let’s Go Outside’ by George Michael. No thanks!
As I left i was ‘Yeah, just popping out to see Tara, I’ll catch you in Sinnotts.’ Yeah, right. Myself and Tara meet up and it is official, we both could not get any more starving if we tried. I ask ‘What do you reckon?’ ‘I don’t know,’ she says ‘I don’t want another burger or Chinese or Italian, where can you get a good steak?’
As soon as the word steak was spoken that was it, we were having steak. The finest steaks known to mankind. We started racking our brains where to go, it had to be the perfect place, we were gonna go hell for leather. Where was a place that could possibly serve up the type of steak that could measure up to the flavour that was being imagined in our mouths already, and as we got to the corner of George’s St., Tara spoke just 3 letters
FXB
The two of our eyes lit up
Yeah, we used to walk by it when we lived in temple bar, strolling by it and never had the fundage or balls to head in and spend a fortune. Everytime we passed it one of us would always say ‘FXB, we’ll have to in go there sometime.’ And the other would sing back ‘Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I love you, Tomorrow, it’s only a day away.’
And let me tell you all, tomorrow has arrived
We sat down and we said to each other ‘Let’s go fucking mental’
Tara ordered mussels to start and I asked for a board of homemade bread with an array of dips.
For the main, I immediately pointed to 12 oz Dry Aged Rib Eye Steak and Cajun String Onions with mashed potatoes, and with fear in her eyes, Tara ordered the 10z Dry Aged Sirloin Steak with chips
To drink there was only one thing that I could think about and it was an ice gold bottle of Budvar, Tara asked the waitress what red wine she would recommend and the she seemed to know what she was talking about, fucked if I did.
At this stage, both our mouths were watering to a point of dribbling, the gargle arrives and I nearly neck the bottle, it was that tasty. Tara seems to be enjoying the wine and was begging me to try some but I hate red wine, and even if it is good, I’ll probably still hate it. . . . . . I tried it and hated it.
I then have one of those Pulp Fiction moments where you come back to the table from having a smoke and the food is awaiting your return. Tara is digging into a surprisingly large bowl of mussels that she claims are the best mussels she has had in a very long time. She is mad for the mussel, on many of occasions we have travelled the length and breath of Dublin looking for a place that serves decent mussels. I do not see the attraction; I think it looks like snot or something.
I sit back down and start to nibble into my beard and dips, about 5 slices of brown and 5 slices of white surrounding three dips, humus, pesto & some blackcurrant sauce which I wasn’t mad on but the humus & pesto was the shit, especially the humus. We both had to stop our starters in fear that we might be full for our main course so I ordered another beer just to make things interesting.
Anyway, the moment came . . . . . . The main courses . . . . . . . the plates were presented with the meat lying on there own in the centre, and along came the side orders and the sauces. Jesus, my mouth is watering just writing this shit. My fried onions was covering my steak and Tara was eyeing them up as hers wasn’t served with them. I through her a few fork fulls of them, poured out some pepper sauce and I carve my off my first piece. I was borderline turned on with the flavours. Even though I was sitting down, I can assure you, I was giving a standing ovation.
We didn’t talk much for the meal, just moaned occasionally in sheer pleasure or maybe say how much we were enjoying it to ourselves. We weren’t rushing it but just giving it 100% attention. The pepper sauce was amazing aswell and went perfect with my budvar.
When the bill came we were pleasantly surprised when it can to €75. Dear for a random Thursday night but it was well worth it. We swiftly got a cab home, excited to hook up a new bought DVD player but sadly we were asleep as soon as our arses hit the bed – a deadly night all round
Meal - €90 Taxi - €12 Jacko Snuggles - Priceless
No comments:
Post a Comment