McCabe's Irish Pub & Grill

Wrong time, Wrong Place

It was noon, earlier than normal, and McCabe’s was just a few steps away. The menu in the doorway seemed satisfyingly extensive … and it was Irish, reminding me of my Dublin visit last year. I found myself focussed on the menu that was headed ‘Poutine and Spuds’. That should have been a warning, but I ordered the ‘Irish Loaded Spuds’ with the optional pulled chicken … and waited. The pub was not busy, thus the meal’s arrival was extraordinarily slow, and what a ‘showpiece’ it was (For want of a better description). An extremely hot iron skillet under a 12-inch wooden plate tried to contain an astonishing amount of assorted food filling the total area of the plate and, at least, 6-inches high. Presentation was totally absent (It seemed that all ingredients had been prepared in a large bowl with a wooden spoon). The problem being that as soon as a fork touched the mountain of food, there was a mini-avalanche that spread out over the table. Mentioning this to the server was met with a laughing, “That’s Ok, I have to clean tables.” I may have eaten about one third of the dish and, then, sent it away to the cook’s ‘trash’. Remember; It was intended to be a small (I thought) plate of poutine. Walking away, I kept wondering what made me go there in the first place.