The Bigger They Come - Well you know the rest

With St. Patrick's Day coming up and our tasting this weekend (Saturday 3-6pm 132 Front St. in Greenport) our thoughts turned of course to a wee dram of Irish Whiskey and perhaps what we found fitting was something of an American inspired spirit. (excuse the play on words).  We,are intrigued by the portrayal of the Irish in our society and applaud the yearly celebration.  It is fun and most of us just put on a smile and some green and wish that proud nationality well.   John L. Sullivan, the bare-knuckle brawler, came to mind as there is a very good Irish Whiskey that bears his name.  We innocently mentioned this to one of our friends who was all full of JL Sullivan lore and we found it very interesting and researching some,  the Wiki article had a lot more to add so were are "thus armed with a pittance of knowledge" making us completely dangerous.  We found that John L. enjoys a Facebook page and that the whiskey that bears his name is aged in Kentucky white oak barrels - ‘Product of Ireland’, but ‘Aged in America’ as the company proudly proclaims. 

Come share some Irish Lore. We will put out some soda bread, pour a wee bit and hope to see you.  No fightin' though.

Never share the stage with a dog

A friend of ours came in at the opening this morning with his Boston Terrier in tow.  Knowing that this Saturday we were going to taste some Irish Whiskey in honor of St. Pat's, (3-6pm) he was all full of good cheer because as he put it, "nothing can be more Irish than a dog bred first in Boston".   We thought that was a bit of a stretch to say the least but he was proud as punch over his 4 legged friend. 
We pondered on the visit for a bit when yet another of our buddies popped in from his morning tussle with the Post Office. He wasn't happy over something and then, when we told him about the visit of the Boston Terrier to our shop and showed him a picture, he got all sentimental on us - he had one as a kid and as we all know, those of us who have lost a pet, there is very little that is harder in life.

To break the rather somber mood, he proceeded to one of his long litany of jokes for all occasions - and with St. Patrick's day coming up, well here it is as best we can remember:

Muldoon lived alone in the countryside outside Boston with only a pet Boston Terrier for company. One day the dog died, and Muldoon went to the parish priest and asked, “Father, my dog is dead. Could ya’ be saying’ a mass for the poor creature?”
Father Patrick replied, “I’m afraid not; we cannot have services for an animal in the church. But there are some Protestants down the lane, and there’s no tellin’ what they believe. Maybe they’ll do something for the creature.”
Muldoon said, “I’ll go right away Father. Do ya ‘think $5,000 is enough to donate to them for the service?”
Father Patrick exclaimed, “Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus! Why didn’t ya tell me that noble beast was Catholic?