In the end, it always comes down to Bass Ale.
For relief and reassurance I turn toward trusted friends and cold pints of Bass, to lick my wounds or revel in good times. The sturdy amber color, the clean, bright taste that leaves a softly bitter trail, these have comforting and restorative powers. That’s how I found Molly Maguire’s–I was in the area and desperately craved a Bass. I ducked in for a pint, but ended up staying for the grub.
I never would have guessed that Molly Maguire’s could offer more than Bass on tap and baseball on TV. The kitchen is in back somewhere, and all I saw were regulars hunched at the bar, some elderly guys shooting the shit over frothy pitchers, and a college-age couple at the pool table. But this friendly neighborhood pub, located on a quiet street in Ballard where J & J Collision auto shop has stood since 1955 (and where you still might get dirty looks if you’re caught yammering on a cell phone), also features hearty nourishment in the form of lamb stew, shepherd’s pie, thick soda bread with generous pats of butter, and other soul-warming Irish favorites. Sleep late and show up on a Sunday afternoon and you’ll be greeted with Irish-breakfast classics like back bacon, Irish or pistachio sausages, black or white pudding, and fried eggs ‘n’ baked beans.
Prices are gentle, the food is simple, and the hot meals stick to your bones. What more do you need to know? Even on a mild summer night, with the sun stubbornly hovering at 9:00 p.m., a delicious shepherd’s pie ($6.50)–roasted onions and carrots, softened in a swamp of thick gravy with morsels of beef and fresh rosemary (and is that Old Bay seasoning?!… whatever, it works), all under a quilt of buttery mashed potatoes–took me right back to the bitter winter of ’96, when I habitually had late post-shift suppers of shepherd’s pie washed down with (yup) Bass Ale at a pub across from the restaurant where I worked. I would eat with Niall Grant, an Irish busboy I had a huge crush on, who taught me how to stack five plates across my arm. (He also taught me about mixed signals and profound disappointment and slurred confessions in the back seats of cabs. But that is another story.) And shouldn’t good food bring back a memory, as clear as if it were just last week, the specific ingredients stimulating your cerebral cortex as well as your tongue? A properly rendered shepherd’s pie always makes me kind of weepy.
The lamb-chipotle burger ($6.50), however, returned me to the present-day. Broiled lamb (not ground meat! an actual hunk of lamb!) with appropriate fatty bits and gristle (to make it a true juicy burger and not a lamb sandwich) was stacked with fresh romaine and tomato, then smeared with lime-ginger mayo, a great partner for the lamb’s barely-there hints of smoky chipotle seasoning (there’s also a one-pound double lamb burger for $9.50). Satisfying and robust, it’s the perfect thing for those who want something different, but who are normally afraid of the stronger, gamier taste of lamb; here it’s soft and subtle.
I went back to Molly Maguire’s a few evenings later feeling much less melancholy, this time with giggly girlfriends in tow. As we planned a road trip to Vancouver, we sampled each other’s dinners: tasty Irish stew with simmered lamb shoulder, potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, and cabbage, all in brown gravy enhanced with fresh thyme; a hefty rib eye sandwich with caramelized onions and melted cheese; and fiery tandoori chicken with lots of coriander, served over basmati rice (all $6.50). I swooned over the Jameson’s-cured smoked salmon ($5.50), which was amazing–if this is any example of what Irish whiskey can do to salmon, the Jews had better watch out–and served with warm soda bread and crumbled feta. Over the girls’ chatter, Johnny Cash was singing to Folsom State Prison, and our sweet, sunburned bartender brought me another pint of Bass.
Molly Maguire’s
610 NW 65th St (Ballard), 789-9643. Open daily, dinner 5-10 pm; Sunday breakfasts noon-4 pm; live music Fri-Sat nights.