Sláinte Shenanigans at The Peddler's Daughter

Saturday night, a week before St. Patrick's Day, we find ourselves at the end of the bar at Haverhill's The Peddler's Daughter. Dave is oft a visitor there with other caregivers (aka drinking buddies), so he's well known to the staff behind the bar like Jen (who he calls Erin) and Nick, and to some of the waitresses. And I've been there many times with Doug and family, so I know the place well.

But it was my first time here with my shenanibuddy, and a memorable one at that.

We arrived around 6pm and the bar was hopping but the tables were near to empty. For a Saturday night dinner service that surprised me.

The bartenders hooked us up with black and tans to start, and We watched two people groping each other on the other side of the bar, and the guy they were hanging out with was slamming PBRs in a can and drinking shots of whiskey.

It was an interesting show.


For starters, we ordered wings, pot stickers, and a big serving of Buffalo Chicken Macaroni and Cheese.

Longtime readers know I have a "thing" for Buffalo Chicken Mac and Cheese, having been introduced to it about a year ago at my job at Create a Cook. I like to try it everywhere I go, to see if restaurants can get it as good as Miss Heather down at the kitchens.

The Peddler's Daughter serves up a huge amount of food in this dish, the bechamel sauce was cheesy and good, not very spicy but just right and extremely saucy. The chicken wasn't seasoned too buffalo-ey,  to my to my ability to taste these things.

It was just fresh chicken breast that was probably roasted and then cut up and added into the mac & cheese.

The nice touch was peas. Peas in the sauce. Very delicious. A happy little explosion with each bite. The topping was just right, could have had some more bleu cheese mixed in and toasted on top.

Overall, thumbs up but Heather still wins.

The wings were more like Wing Dings cooked and then Buffalo sauced. They didn't rock my world. The pork pot stickers were lovely. just right. not too over steamed and splitting apart the way I've experienced them at non-chinese restaurants. The dipping sauce could have been a touch more spicy or gingery or something. It wasn't very flavorful. But not something that I'd send back with a wrinkled nose and a "Meh."

We then set to drinking beers. Of course. It being a Saturday night in Haverhill, the police are usually out en force so I know what my limits are and what is acceptable for my body. During the course of an evening like this I will have 2 beers early (with the meal) and then one before we leave.

I don't think that people shouldn't enjoy a beer and then drive, I just think people shouldn't enjoy 8 beers and then drive.

I always let Dave do the "serious" drinking so I can do the serious driving.

At this point, I had my 2nd beer -- a Harpoon Celtic Ale, pictured here.

It was crisp and fresh and very red. Dave had a Smithwicks and then a Boddingtons. Both are classics, we've had them a million times before.

He ordered a Black and Blue, forgetting that the "Blue" on tap here is Sea Dog Blueberry, which he hates. And I failed in my drinking buddy duties to remind him that he would not be happy.

So he drank the black half, and then didn't finish the bottom blue. Very funny.

He wanted to know if Nick the bartender could make a black and tan style drink with Guinness and the Harpoon Celtic Ale. Nick wasn't sure it would work, but it sure did.

It was beautiful, the dark black Guinness just sitting there atop the red Celtic Ale. It was fantastic to look at. Dave loved it. We think it needs an official name though and I may just reach out to Harpoon and suggest Black Irish.


Now, the bar is full, the tables are all full. It is 9pm. And the band comes on.

The Foggy Duo consists of two guys and some guitars, mandolins, a bongo and some other percussion instruments. Dave asked if they knew how to play Sweet Jane, and they did not. So he immediately was a bit irritated. "How on earth could some guys THIS age, OUR AGE, not know how to play Sweet Jane by Lou Reed!"

He wouldn't let it go... he asked them if they had a song list, and they did. So he brings it over to me and starts reading it.

On the list are two favorites that he just HAS to hear.

They launch into some classic Irish tunes, because after all we're at The Peddler's Daughter, it's kicking off St. Patrick's Week, and sure why not! And It's No Nae Never! (clap, clap, clap, clap!) No Nae Never No More!

Dave wants to hear stuff off the list and he is itching for it... he circles two songs. I take the sheet up to to the mandolin player, Joe. And they immediately played both songs.

One was Dire Straits' "Romeo and Juliet" which I know for a fact is one of Dave's very favorite songs in the whole God Blessed and created beautiful universe. If we go somewhere that has an internet jukebox, he will play that song, and play it 10 times until I tell him that other bar patrons may want to beat him senseless if he goes to 11.

The second the first chord hit he was on his feet, standing behind me with his hands gripping my shoulders. I kind of thought he was having a seizure, but he would have hit the ground instead. He starts singing into the back of my head, very happy.

So happy.

I almost started to cry because of how incredibly over the top happy he was. Then, I was afraid he actually MIGHT have a seizure and I started to get nervous.

I have been a lucky kid all these many months to be out in public with Dave and not have him drop on me. So I turned around, and looked at him. One could say he was beaming. Halfway through the song he takes out five dollars and goes to put it up for a tip... then... the unthinkable happened.

No, not a seizure.

He started to play the bongos.

They told him to jump in. So he's singing harmony, he's playing the bongos. He's happy as a freaking pig in a pile of shit, rocking out and singing.

My fears of a seizure are somewhat put away, but ... not quite. I'm afraid.

I took a picture which blinded everyone in the bar, and I am sorry for that. the lights were too low to take a shot without the flash.

But I caught the moment. So he knows he did this.

I texted his wife and said "He's playing the bongos. It's time to bring him home..." but I am laughing my ass off.

He ends up coming back to our seats at the bar, just absolutely ecstatic. They played "Suite Judy Blue Eyes," which was his second request. He has another beer, and I tell him it's time to pack it up and head out of town.

The bar is PACKED there are people pressing up against us. Too many bodies and I stop enjoying myself. Too loud, too much talking, too weird, and then other people are way way way too drunk.

I found 21 dollars on the bathroom floor and brought it to the bartender. I figured that if someone dropped it and that was their pint money, they'd want it. My daughter and I have this running joke when one of us is telling a really not-too-interesting story and we know it isn't interesting that we end it with "And then I found 20 bucks!"

So I guess "And then I found 21 bucks!" is how I will end this episode of Shenanigans with Dave. I hope whoever dropped the money was able to reclaim it, or that the barkeeps just kept it at the end of the night as a tip and rang the bell good and hard. I thought about keeping it but ... I'm rich enough already when it comes right down to it.