A jolly green weekend came and went and I’m left with partial memories of gleeful celebrations from the North Side to the South Side. I gathered with my Irish cousins and started the day with the (inappropriately named) homemade Irish Car Bombs. You can tell my sister Meg is unconvinced of cousin Conor’s recipe:
Wells Street was predictably packed with lines at every bar:
We found a vacancy at Suite Lounge and sampled a shot of the Proper Twelve whiskey Conor McGregor just started advertising:
From there we wandered to Conor & Annie’s corner tavern, Sedgwick Stop. I’d never eaten there and Annie reminded me the next day I wouldn’t stop raving about their burger:
It was darn good, though, with a fresh pickle. And the fries I found to be unique and textured. There were bags tossed outside at Sedgwick Stop, but I don’t think I actually ever played:
The rest of the night is a bit of a Jameson-flavored blur.
We rallied the troops for an early Sunday drive down south to Aunt Bird’s. She hosts a famous South Side Irish Parade pre & post-party complete with Russell’s BBQ beef, corned beef and a roomful of green hats, sweaters, socks, gloves and other assorted flair for anyone who wants to add to their outfit throughout the day. My mom & sister got all decked out:
The parade is always a blast, especially on a sunny day like Sunday. We set up shop beneath the banner honoring my late, legendary Uncle Tom Leonard – occasionally stopping in for liquid refreshment at his preferred watering hole, Ken’s.
Sure, it’ll take a few days for my brain to fully recover from all the times I uttered Slainte and raised a glass – but I wouldn’t trade St. Paddy’s Day for any other holiday. May the road rise to meet you…now enjoy the bagpipers:
Do you kind of want to go to Mr. Sub right now? I feel ya.