I'm Outta Here (But First, Here's A Place You Could Go, While I'm Gone, To Drown Your Sorrows Concerning Me Not Being Around)

MY WIFE and I begin our annual fall vacation this Thursday. It will actually begin this Wednesday evening when I leave work at 5 o’clock and go for a massage. Under the fingers of a trained professional I will shed the previous twelve months of accumulated stress (not that there’s that much of it to shed, since I’m basically a lazy sot who does the maximum to minimize any stress in life, but I love a good massage and anything I can do to rationalize getting one is fair game.)

You may be asking what this has to do with you. That all depends upon how much you love me. If you can’t live without me, you’re screwed. I’ll be away from this space for about two weeks. If you can take me or leave me, it doesn’t affect you at all, really, so just go about your business as you usually do and don’t let it bother you that your admission to not loving me has just taken a buzzsaw to my heart and I will now go through my vacation with severe depression.

Anyway, we decided to get an early start on our good times by visiting one of our favorite places for Sunday breakfast. We went to Donohue’s, a great pub in our home city, Watertown.

(An odd tidbit: The actual incorporated name of our locality is “The City Known As The Town Of Watertown”. I’ve always gotten a kick out of that.)

It was as it usually is, which is to say delicious, a bargain, and served in a welcoming atmosphere by friendly people. While eating, we were visited by the proprietor, J. D. Donohue, a very personable guy. MY WIFE and I had a nice conversation with him concerning his business, in particular an issue he’s currently involved in about his outdoor patio. It’s been shut (at least for the time being) due to some political wrangling. I’m not privy to all of the details, nor the personalities involved, but it seems a shame. It’s a lovely space, appears not to be something that would in any way affect local residents adversely (there is only one house anywhere near the joint, and the patio has been open for quite a while without any apparent complaint), and is an obvious asset to the business. I hope the issue is resolved and J.D. gets to open his patio again.

In any case, I enjoyed my meal so much, I thought I’d republish a previous piece I wrote concerning Donohue’s. If you’re a local, or anywhere near to being one, and you’ve never been to the place, maybe this will convince you to visit. I hope so. While you’re there, ask for J. D., tell him I sent you, and he probably won’t kick you out.

Here’s what I wrote previously.

There is one saving grace when softball is rained out on a Sunday morning. That is going to Donohue's for breakfast. I'll explain.

MY WIFE is a wonderful woman.

(Duh. If she hadn't been one, I certainly wouldn't have married her.)

Anyway, when she sees my pitiful puss moping around the house on a Sunday morning because it's raining out and I can't play ball, she always suggests that we go to Donohue's for breakfast. That helps immensely. The one thing I like almost as much as playing ball is eating.

Donohue's is in Watertown on Bigelow Avenue, just a short drive (or decent walk) from our home. Aside from it being a great place to forget about the disappointment of being rained out, it's my go-to place for sporting events on TV channels we don't receive in our house. For instance, when game seven of the Bruins - Lightning series was on Versus (which we don't get) MY WIFE and I went to Donohue's, had a swell dinner of turkey tips and sides (enough for four meals, actually, as we both took home enough to have another feed), then watched an exciting game on a big screen TV in the midst of an involved and friendly crowd. Doesn't get much better than that, unless you have some good drinks with it and we did. I'll also go there to watch Boston College football one or two Saturdays during their season and maybe enjoy the occasional Celtics game (when we don't have tickets and I feel like being amidst the buzz of other fans.)

The food is top-notch for a bar, there are huge TVs everywhere, the selection of beer is wide and satisfying, and the prices are extremely reasonable.

The owner is actually an Irishman, too (or, at least, an American of Irish descent.) This isn't some damn Fitzi McLeprechaun's chain joint, about as Irish as matzoh and chitlins. This is the real thing - a neighborhood pub, serving good food and drink at decent prices, a fun place to be. J. D. Donohue is the proprietor and a nice guy, friendly, and likely to chat you up at your table. He stopped by yesterday and we discussed his addition of Goose Island to the tap (a craft beer I 'discovered' on our vacation in Chicago, and which I was quite surprised to find in a Watertown pub. Seems J. D. has some pull, so he was able to get it into his place some months before it was to become widely available in the Northeast.)

The best bargain among many, and why this place is almost enough to make me glad when it rains, is the Full Irish Breakfast, served Saturday and Sunday. You get two sausages, a huge slab of Irish bacon, mounds of home fried potatoes, magnificent toasted Irish soda bread, both white pudding and black pudding, beans, fried tomatoes, and 2 eggs prepared any way you wish. The price is an extremely reasonable $11.99. Believe me, I can put some food away, but I couldn't finish the Full Irish yesterday. I came close, but the plate is so loaded...

(You know, this has to have some of you thinking that I was paid off to write this. Heck, it would make me think that if I was reading it somewhere else. Nope. Just felt like writing it up because it's a great place and it was just what I needed yesterday morning. In the spirit of full disclosure, though, J. D. did once treat us to a breakfast after reading a similar review on this blog a couple of years back. I don't, however, have expectations concerning another comp in the future. Just thought I'd make that clear.)

The most amazing thing about this breakfast is that you can walk in and grab a seat on Sunday morning with absolutely no wait whatsoever. It always boggles my mind to see the empty tables in Donohue's on a Sunday morning. Just up the street, there are scads of hipsters waiting to get into a couple of other places that I don't consider near as much of a bargain as Donohue's. Nothing against the other diners and whatnot. I've eaten at those places, too, and not a thing wrong with them. None of them, however, has as tasty an option as the Full Irish, and you don't have to stand in line 20 minutes in the rain before getting your hot and satisfying breakfast. I don't get it. Donohue's is just down the street. Why wait when you don't have to do so?

If you, too, find yourself rained out some Sunday morning in the Boston area, come on over to Watertown and get a Full Irish at Donohue's. Chances are you might see me and MY WIFE. As a matter of fact, chances are better that you'll see us than that we'll see you. Allow me to explain.

We had finished our breakfasts and MY WIFE wished to go to the ladies. She asked me to watch her pocketbook (which she does even if there's no one else within a mile of it, but that's OK. I often ask her to carry stuff in it, so it's only fair I watch it when she's away.) She got up and headed for the restroom. Except she headed straight for the mens room, not the ladies.

I said, "WIFE!"

(No, not really. I used her actual name. If I had said, "WIFE!", I probably would have gotten her attention more easily, though.)

She didn't hear me. I said it more loudly.

"WIFE!"

She was oblivious, and walked right into the mens room.

I started to get up to go get her, but J. D. was standing already so he said he'd do so. Just as he reached the door, MY WIFE came out with a sheepish look and a fair amount of blushing.

(Luckily, there had been no one else in there. Had it been a Friday night, with the joint hopping...)

I said, "What did you think when you got in there? 'Huh! When did they put those in here?'"

J. D. and the waitresses laughed, and MY WIFE blushed some more before going into the correct room for what she needed to do.

So, as I say, you might see us (or hear us) before we see or hear you. Well, at least before MY WIFE hears or sees you. Then again, you can never be sure just exactly where she might see you, so be prepared.

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And that’s it for now. I’ll be back somewhere around the middle of the month. Until then, feel free to send me any spare cash and I’ll have a drink to your health.

Soon, with more better stuff.