Global rewards

When you frequent a restaurant, there’s something magical about the first time you’re recognized as a regular.

We often stroll up to Limericks Pub and Grill on the top floor of Fitzgeralds for its prime rib special ($8.95), which includes a sizeable cut of top notch meat; a potato the size of your forearm, with more butter, sour cream, chives and bacon bits than you could ever need; honest-to-god, freshly cooked vegetables; a bottomless basket of sourdough rolls; and a dinner salad with a variety of greens, croutons and mandarin oranges.

We always request a booth so we can take in the whole scene. Limericks is a dinner house, and if it weren’t for the bright KENO signs, you wouldn’t know you were in a casino. Plush, velvet booths line the room, which has a medieval, castle-ish feel, with maces, swords and tapestry hanging on the walls, a tin ceiling, faux painted bricks and pictures of pastoral Ireland—full of cows, thatched roofs and blue seas. Eclectic music quietly fills the room as the kelly-green-shirted waiters go about their business.

Besides the fact that the prime rib special is a steal, we’re always noticing the wait staff. Face it, you might as well get your order to-go if the service isn’t good. There’s one particularly all-smiles-and-business, red-headed waitress. She’s a pro. The other night, when we weren’t seated in her section, she recognized us, paused at our table, and with a genuine smile, asked how we were and said it was good to see us again. We got a kick out of this. This night we were going to explore the full menu.

We started with Foley’s guacamole ($7.50), a menu-specified “must try,” which included a ton of lightly fried chips with a big helping of pico de gallo for crunching on. We washed it all down with an authentically poured Guiness—correct temperature with a beautiful, creamy head.

For dinner, I had O’Sullivan’s shepherd pie ($9.95), a recipe, claims the menu, straight from Dennis O’Sullivan in County Kerry Ireland. A good-sized crock full of hunks of beef, carrots, potatoes and a big biscuit puff on top made a fine dinner for me.

I felt like going international, so I also ordered a bowl of French onion soup ($4.50), homemade with a touch of brandy. How can you go wrong with thick, beefy broth and an endless supply of fondue-like cheese?

Michael navigated his way through a good old red-white-and-blue 20-ounce, perfectly medium-rare porterhouse with the traditional massive potato, fresh veggies and salad, washed down with an award-winning New Zealand 2000 Gibbston Valley Central Otago red wine.

You could travel the globe through Limericks’ surprisingly vast wine list, which includes wines from California’s Russian River, Argentina, Australia, South Africa, Portugal and the north highlands of Scotland. From there, it’s just a short excursion to the Irish vodka (yes, Irish vodka), the Puerto Rican rum and, of course, all those single-malt Scotches. Did I mention that Limericks has a happy hour?

Dessert took us to yet another country: we indulged in rich, delightful German chocolate cake.

One of my favorite things about Limericks is how coarsely they grind their pepper—you can bite into the pepper like it’s part of the meal.

We’ve been back since, but our red-head wasn’t working that night.

Nonetheless, it’s our neighborhood joint.