Irish Eyes Are Smiling

I’ve been to Boston, Chicago, Scranton and Dublin. My entire family comes from Counties Mayo and Cork. This makes me somewhat of an authority on all things Irish. I’m here to tell you that O’Brien’s Irish Pub remains the best place to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

Bernie and Teresa O’Brien opened their pub at 11744 North Dale Mabry Highway fifteen years ago. Originally from the Emerald Isle, they add an air of authenticity to an Americanized holiday. I’m sick of Yanks who insist Half-n-Halfs are made with Bass instead of Harp. Spare me the businessmen from Idaho who post pictures of shamrocks, serve green beer and call it an Irish celebration.

Bernie and Teresa built a solid reputation with neighborhood regulars who gather for conversation, true Irish music and artery-clogging cuisine –just like Nana used to make.

O’Brien’s and I go way back. My first St. Patrick’s Day with them was in '92 or '93. Afterwards, friends and I quickly became regulars. We’d spend weekends playing darts and downing pints of Guinness – arguing politics with the best of them. Teresa would let me in even when I wore an IRA hat. We celebrated my conversion to Judaism at O’Brien’s. Of course, everyone rolled their eyes just a little. I felt right at home.

Funny story…

My friends held my twenty-fourth birthday party at the center table like always. While a band played songs from the Old Country, I opened presents. That was the night I received my first Grown-up Toy.

A glorious night.

I held it up for everyone to see. Silence fell upon the establishment and someone whispered, “Behold its glory.” Oh, we did. Maggie, over at the dart boards, clutched her heart and said a prayer. Bobby behind the bar quickly made the sign of the cross.

A magnificent gift.

Then the band stopped playing and kicked us out. Embarrassed, I went home and began a life-long friendship with the best birthday present ever. The following weekend, we all made our way back to O’Brien’s. Bernie approached our table, expressed regret for the band’s behavior, promised the Moral Musicians would never again darken his doorstep, and bought a round for everyone.

Good people, those O’Brien’s.

Since then, I’ve retreated north of Tampa to raise a family and only come back once a year for St. Patrick’s Day. This Friday will be no different. I know you’re probably thinking, “Shabbat in an Irish pub? How does that work?”

It works with a wink and a smile. Once a year is once a year. Let us rejoice and be glad.

For those who reject Bennigan’s version of St. Patrick’s Day – come to Carrollwood (or their Brandon location) and enjoy corned beef and cabbage (get a dispensation first), overflowing pints of Guinness, and music that will melt your heart. Doors open at 10:30am and a $5 cover charge begins at 2pm.

See you there.

Update: Dispensations denied for Tampa Catholics. No corned beef for you!